I Tinder because I’m bored, sad, horny, and lonely
Halfway through a 6 month road trip, I quit Tinder. In Chattanooga to be exact. My plan was to drive from San Francisco to Montreal and to use Tinder and other dating apps along to way to see how women differ from state to state.
Let’s be honest – that didn’t happen. I used it like I’ve always used it . Because I was bored, lonely, horny, and sad. What a stellar combo.
Don’t get me wrong I’ve met amazing women on Tinder (SLC you know who you are). I don’t always use it to escape but that’s how I usually use it.
Here I was in Chattanooga Tennessee. About to meet up with yet another date that I probably didn’t have that much in common with. I’d already spent hours swiping, matching, and chatting with random women just to score a date in a strange town. That’s 4 hours down the drain.
She doesn’t look like her photos
She shows up and of course she doesn’t really look like her profile photos. Old photos, flattering angles, glamour filters. I don’t blame them – they’re just trying to get a date. This place has a lack of quality dateable people. Increase your odds, right?
We spend another hour chatting and of course there’s no chemistry. How could there really be? We’re total strangers that decided to meet up because of a few photos and a few lines of texts. It’s an absolute miracle when you ACTUALLY connect with someone on the internet. It’s just a roll of the dice. Sure I can be attracted to someone but if I don’t like em – well fuck. It’s not gonna last long.
If you don’t have that much in common, you’re probably gonna fuck.
Someone told me about this phenomenon that happens on Tinder. If you meet up with someone and you don’t really have that much in common then you’re probably gonna fuck. What? This concept didn’t make sense to me at the time but it soon did. It’s the sunken cost theory. You already spent this much (time) you might as well get something out of it. Namely sex.
So that’s what happened. Again. I found myself fucking someone I didn’t really want to be fucking. Why not? We’re supposed to be two consenting adults having fun, safe sex. What’s wrong with that?
Nothing. Other than the fact that I’m just doing it because I can, and because I want to change the way I feel. And guess what happens as soon as I cum? I want to leave. Immediately. Toss the condom, wipe my dick off, put on my shoes, and bounce.
Countless hours down the drain
That’s not the worse part. The worse part is the countless hours I’ve spent matching with people that I’ll never see again. The countless hours swiping, matching, and chatting for nothing. Time that I won’t ever get back. Sure, I got a few fun dates out of it. Some casual sex. But at what cost?
There’ve been periods in my life when I’ve used Tinder to find someone RIGHT NOW. I didn’t care who it was as long as they were going to fuck me. That’s not connection. That’s using another human being. Sex should never be about using another human being (unless you’re both aware of it and consenting to it – then HOT).
It was clear to me what I was doing. I just wasn’t ready to do anything about it. I knew I was using people to escape myself but wasn’t ready to face the feelings I was trying to escape from.
Until Chattanooga that is. After fucking two girls in Chattanooga that I really didn’t have a connection with I decided to quit Tinder. I had already made a commitment to a friend of mine that I wouldn’t use pornography either – so substituting Tinder dates with porno dates was off the table too. Oh boy. Things were going to get real raw.
I quit Tinder and now I’m happy. Sort of.
I dropped the pretense that I was using Tinder from a place of wanting to connect with others. I quit Tinder. I started believing that I didn’t need the internet to meet interesting women. Instead of depending on the internet to meet people I was now ready to have the universe surprise me. Guess what? It totally worked.
If you’re open to it – there’s plenty of great amazing people right outside your front door. I was using Tinder because I was scared, and lazy. In the months after Chattanooga I’ve met some seriously amazing women. Women that I probably wouldn’t have met because I’d have my face buried in a phone looking for my imaginary princess to take me away from all my sadness.
All I had to do was put the phone down, and open my eyes to the beauty of the world around me. You can too.
Shaun Galanos is the host and producer of The Love Drive. He lives, drives, and writes in Montreal.