Note: This article stems from my own experiences with Tinder as a cisgender, white, heterosexual woman. It won’t reflect everyone’s experiences.* 

Ahhh, Tinder. How many hours have I spent with you – laughing, swiping, delving into a rabbit hole of the most eligible (and some definitely not) bachelors of Manchester? Too long, methinks. And it might be time we had a little talk because, you see, I’m not feeling that great at the moment. 

Online dating has revolutionised the way that we think about meeting people and the way that we interact with sex. While some argue that Tinder has made our dalliances with others more transactional and less human, others argue that online dating apps have given control back to women, allowing us to choose when, where and who before putting ourselves in that person’s physical vicinity. 

I love being able to weed out the red flags before meeting them in person. Seriously, avoid anyone who actively puts things in their bio that is designed to neg you out or makes negative comments about women’s choices of clothes, makeup or habits (who the fuck cares if you watch Love Island?).

I also feel a little safer knowing that if I do meet up with them, I’ve at least got the option of screenshots of their profile for security and/or contacting Tinder or Bumble to report them if they’re a creep. It’s a bit awkward trying to get a subtle photo of someone you just met in a bar. 

I also love that it’s on-demand and that I can have flirty and social interactions without leaving the comfort of my flat or having to put pants on. It’s nice, especially as someone newly single, new to the area or looking for a way to meet people without the pressure of a busy bar situation. You can take things at your own pace and have some fun and meet new people in a safe situation. 

The dating downsides 

Being able to wear comfortable clothes and initiate conversation in a safe space at your own pace is great. But of course, there are downsides. When you’re knocked back several times in a row it absolutely sucks. I’ve recently been through a patch of meeting some great guys, going on dates and then getting told that they just see me as a friend (even after they’ve seen me naked). 

Sometimes I feel like I am getting nowhere; that nobody will ever love me. This is even though I have several amazing friends who love me dearly and who I can 100% be myself around. 

On the flip side, I’d also get the creeps who ask if I want to go for a fuck as the first message, people who really wanted to look at my Instagram before they’d send me another message and the people who would just smoke bomb or ghost me even though we were getting along incredibly well. 

Experiencing so many setbacks makes me feel like crap and like something is wrong with me. Either I need to change myself, my approach or I haven’t met the right guy yet. So what do I do? Double down. Someone who really understands me should be out there, right? 

This is when the trouble starts. 

I date, therefore I am? 

Hot tip: if something is not working for you and makes you feel like crap, you do not need to continue doing the same thing to prove something to yourself. 

I wanted to know what the problem isn’t who I am as a person. Rather than taking a step back, realising that I’m an ace person and that I don’t need to prove anything, I dig myself in further to the Tinder hole. 

When you’re already feeling low, you need to identify what it is that’s making you feel low. After a conversation with my best friend back in Australia, she asked me about my self-worth. From where do I normally get it? What makes me feel low and what makes me feel high? 

For her, it is her work. Her reactions to things that happen at work can often eclipse everything else. Everything else in her life can be going exceptionally well but if one small thing happens at work then her mood can plummet. 

From her description of that, I’ve realised that my self worth derives from romantic relationships. I’ve had some incredible achievements this year: I’ve moved to the other side of the world with no plan, established myself in a new city and country, been promoted within a few months, made friends and traveled solo. But when something negative happens in my romantic life, my mental health and my self-worth plummets. 

Depressed dater? Try a few other approaches 

So it’s time to take a new approach to dating. If you’re like me and find your mental health plummeting when you’re in the middle of swipe fest, here’s a list of things I’ve tried that have helped. 

• Identify where you derive your self-worth. If, like me, it is romantic relationships, spend lots of time examining why that is and starting to change it. Spend more time with friends, write a list of achievements from this year or start journaling. 

• Delete the app for a while and only download it again when you can engage with it more casually. I’m not here to demonise the app. But if you find that you’re constantly feeling like crap, you spend all your spare time on the app, you’re consistently putting yourself in dangerous situations or you aren’t sleeping properly, it might be time for a break. 

• Create a swipe limit. Sometimes I only allow myself ten swipes before closing the app and do something else. It allows me to moderate my time and place less importance on it. 

• Plan phone-free time. This is a good idea for life in general, but I also tend to find myself drifting over onto dating apps after checking my emails or answering a text. Phone free time means I don’t end up in that social media and dating app loophole where four hours later I find myself on my couch still swiping with an empty packet of biscuits and crumbs covering my sweater. 

When I’m using the apps now, I’ve found that remembering these things is helpful:  

• Not everyone is on the same wavelength as me. My sense of humour can be a bit out there for some people. And that’s okay - they’re not the right person for me (no matter how amazing their cheekbones are). 

• People want different things. I might feel like I’m in a casual mood but others are looking for relationships so they don’t want to invest in time with someone who’s not looking for the same thing. And that is okay. 

• If someone ghosts you, it’s not necessarily a reflection of you, but it is a reflection of them. I hate ghosting, but one of my strengths in life is being able to have difficult conversations. What I’ve found is that people who ghost aren’t necessarily being dicks. Sometimes they are, but sometimes they just don’t know how to say they’re not interested. Don’t take it too personally. You’re lucky to have dodged another bullet. 

• Romance can blossom, but it doesn’t have to. Keep your expectations low and don’t pin all of your hopes on connections you make. Approach it with a “what happens, happens” mentality and enjoy the small moments rather than waiting for something bigger. 

The most important thing to remember is that if you want to meet someone and have a healthy and happy relationship, you first need to be happy with yourself. Spend time with your number one – yourself – before you invest more time into dating apps. 

As for me? I’m doing just that. I’m taking a break because my mental health is shot. Plus I’m working on my self-worth. I’ll go back to living the swipe life when I’m ready, but for now, it’s all about me… until I get bored and horny at the same time and download the apps again. 

Happy swiping! 

*Women of colour, trans, queer, non-binary and more subsections of our community experience more hate speech, ignorance and other negative interactions on dating apps. 

By Rowena Grant

You can read more on her blog: www.theunpreparedtraveller.com