So I joined Tinder, and to be clear I have no idea what I am doing. I have no game and I hate games. But I am being open to the process of these modern forms of getting to know someone. I did not meet The One at Bible College, I have yet to meet anyone through the local church, and Match and E-Harmony have failed me; either there is something tragically wrong with me (that I am unaware of), or Tinder is my last hope (lol).
Wouldn’t it be hilarious if—amid the unsolicited pics—I find a godly man who is looking for a godly woman? The humor of this narrative is not lost on me: a Jesus-loving, city-dwelling, justice-seeking feminist meets guy on Tinder. Such is my life.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. So far there has been no such favor found in the right swipe. I have matched and communicated with a few men, blocked a few pervs (I do not want to see that), and am pretty sure one was a bot… is it possible to have Tinderbots? Nothing has panned out yet.
Truth: I am A-OK with this. I have not felt bad about my lack of connections, I do not feel like I must find the match of my dreams, and I am being honest about who I am. Proclaiming the Gospel is my priority and Jesus must be the common denominator of our lives. I see God’s hand at work actively closing doors and protecting my heart.
Even with Jesus being a requirement, I have had matches who say faith is important but message despicable things. Lesson one for all you Tinderellas: the DM shows who he actually is. Say no, and then block him. Be the woman of standard you are meant to be.
Lesson two: if his kids are his first priority but his profile is all pics of his innocent non-dating kiddos, swipe left. His adorable children should not be the bait that gets you to swipe. I have appreciated the fathers who blur or cover the faces of their children; these are dads that think about the privacy and safety of their children. (To be clear, someone is not a bad parent for putting pics of their kid on Tinder, but it makes me uncomfortable).
Lesson three: If he has more than one gym selfie, he needs to add another hobby to his repertoire. Being in shape is great, and working out all that sexual frustration is fantastic, but I need to see more than that. As we are on the subject of mirror selfies, let’s also nix bathroom selfies. I do not need to see any more urinals on my Tinder feed, just saying.
Lesson four: If it says add me on Snapchat, RUN. If he has a bunch of ladies adding him on Snap, you are one of the many, not The One. If a date turns into something more, you will always wonder who is sending him snaps, who is on the side, who else did he reel in? And if there is a problem in the future, will he run to you or his Snaps?
Maybe this is why I’m still single, but exploring the Tinder culture has shown me new levels of standards I want, and need, to have. To be fair, there are probably a ton of awesome guys on Tinder, you just have to wade through the mass of dudes that are only separated (not divorced), the ones who are in “open relationships,” the ones “not looking for anything serious,” and—my personal favorite—“only here for the weekend,” to find them. Tinder is a tool, not the answer.
So be smart and go with your gut. Modern romance is app-based and lots of people actually do meet this way. Hopefully that means that the God of the universe might use Tinder to hook a sister up.