It’s been real…awful!
It’s been real…awful.
It’s been real…awful!
Bumble is trolling me.
I’m just a girl, looking for a boy…and Bumble is trolling me!
I received the message above after swiping (all to the left) through about 20 prospects. Are my filters so limiting that I have filtered myself out of potential matches?
For the uninitiated, Bumble Boost allows you to filter your potential matches by a variety of criteria. Some are dumb (What is their star sign?) and others are more important (Do they have or want children?). In order to apply a filter, you must have answered the question yourself.
One might wonder why apply filters at all. Isn’t the fun of dating learning about the other person as you go? The answer is “yes” if we’re talking about dating in the 1990s before the dawn of the internet and social media. But with everyone posting everything about their lives on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc., why shouldn’t I be able to specify that the next guy I go on a date with isn’t a smoker.
So what are the filters I’ve applied?
Interested in Men.
Age: Between 34 and 45
Distance: Up to 24 miles away (Unless you live in Brooklyn, Queens or Manhattan, because I’m not crossing the Hudson River to get to you.)
Height: Between 5’9″ and 6’2″
Education: Undergraduate degree; In grad school; Graduate degree
What do you want from your Bumble date? Relationship; Marriage
*Note: The other options are “something casual” and “don’t know yet.”
Do they have or want children? Don’t want; Have & don’t want more
Maybe it’s that last one that’s limiting my prospects, but meeting a partner who doesn’t want kids — or more kids if he already has them — is very important to me, because I don’t want to have children. Having that understanding upfront helps avoid an uncomfortable conversation when you’re on the road to a serious relationship and your partner is all goo goo gaga over babies and your uterus has a “do not disturb” sign.
Other filters I have not turned on:
Do they exercise?
What is their star sign?
Do they drink?
Do they have pets?
What is their religion?
What are their politics like?
It’s not that I don’t care about those things, but they’re not dealbreakers for me.
In trying to get over Anthony, finding a limited number of potential matches really has me wondering: should I drop my filters and open up my dating pool to the masses?
Let me know what you think in the comments.
The Magic 8 Ball says…
I met a guy at the beginning of 2019. It was right after another guy I was seeing abruptly called it off. (And by “right after” I mean the next day, because keeping it moving is the only way to survive dating in 2019.)
On paper, this guy — let’s call him Anthony — is nothing like who I would have described five months ago as “my ideal man”:
He is over forty. ❌
He is divorced. ❌
He has two kids. ❌
But when dating men in their early 30s who’ve never committed to anything in their lives including adulthood without roommates, you switch things up.
Anthony and I matched on Bumble, the dating app I believe is the least wretched of the bunch. He had two too many car selfies and incorrectly used “to” instead of “too” in his profile, but I looked past my pet peeves because he was cute and his profile was otherwise amusing.
We hit it off on a Friday and, within hours, we had made plans to meet the next afternoon for drinks. We were on the same page about what we wanted out of a relationship (see actual Bumble exchange below).
Saturday rolled around and our schedules didn’t sync up, but we texted heavily for a couple of hours. The conversation flowed naturally. He was a smart-ass (so am I), but also thoughtful, vague enough to be interesting, and confident. Ding! Ding! Ding!
When we finally met that Monday, we both lived up to the other’s expectations, which when it comes to online dating, are very low. Basically, we both had all of our teeth, looked like our profile photos and could engage in interesting conversation for three hours.
After that first night, we began seeing one another about once or twice a week — a schedule dictated by his shared-custody arrangement. This was great for me, because to know me is to know I am always busy doing something. I have varied interests, love spending time with my friends and playing golf with my dad. A couple of days a week is all I have to give to a potential love interest.
Anthony treated me very well. He told me all the nice things: I made him happy; I made him feel loved and fulfilled; every time we were together was something to look forward to; he wanted to do things with me…in the future (btw, anyone want tickets to a comedy show in April?)! I met some of his closest friends. I even fell in love with one of his dogs (the other one is nice, too). We agreed not to date other people. Things with Anthony were different. I cannot explain it any better than that.
This relationship was headed in the right direction — if the right direction was a fork in the road on a NASCAR racetrack ablaze with heartache and tears.
Two months and 11+ dates later, Anthony hit me with the “I’m not ready for a relationship” text. Yes, text. [Editor’s Note: If you have been on more than five dates with someone DO NOT CALL IT OFF VIA TEXT. It is disrespectful.]
Now, I’ve been on the receiving end of the “I’m not ready for a relationship” text several times before. I believe men think it’s the easiest way out of dating someone — it is not. The easiest way out is to say, “I think you’re great, but I just don’t see a future with us.” Direct, truthful, and less painful than the modern day equivalent of “it’s not you, it’s me.” (No one ever believes that.)
Anthony’s text, though, knocked me over like a Kardashian finding out via TMZ that her baby daddy kissed her sister’s friend. I can’t say he was “The One” but he was definitely the one I could see myself with for the foreseeable future (whether that was short- or long-term was TBD). And I believed he felt the same way about me. But this was an overnight about-face.
I won’t share the exact details of the text, but he made sure to reiterate that he wasn’t interested in anyone else and that he really liked me. He said he just wasn’t mentally ready to give 100% to a relationship.
My hot take: He’s just not that into me.
I was hurt (was everything he’d told me about his feelings for me a lie? I don’t think so.), disappointed (I opened my heart up for this shit?!), and sad (am I really that unlovable?).
I repeat: AM I UNLOVABLE?
On it’s face, this is a dumb question. Of course I’m not unlovable. Many people love me, this I know. Some were forced into the endeavor because we share DNA, others came to the conclusion willingly because I give good advice and always have gum and Kleenex.
But falling in love looks so easy on television and in movies. I’m not naive enough to believe that’s how it is in real life, but I am a 36-year-old woman who has never been on the receiving end of non-platonic love. Cold, hard fact. Also a fact? This never bothered me BEFORE I set out on my dating quest.
Here’s a text thread between me and a very good friend of mine after Anthony broke things off:
Admittedly, that is some sad shit. But it is 100% real. I am tired of the hunt, the catch and the release. It takes a toll on my soul because, for me, being emotionally vulnerable is a Herculean task which requires energy, and I don’t have enough energy stored up to keep being let down over and over again. And even if I did have it, I’d rather spend it doing things I love with people who already love me, albeit platonically.
So…will I keep dating “for love” in 2019? Probably not. Should I? Maybe.
The one thing I won’t ever do, however, is not be “ready for a relationship” and pretend otherwise with the men I date. And right now, my heart is not ready, because it is stupidly holding out hope for Anthony.
What do you think? Should I keep up the fight? Let me know in the comments.
Houston, we have a profile problem.
I have a hard time talking about myself in a positive way. This doesn’t mean that I’m not a confident, intelligent woman who knows she has a lot going for her. (Not so humble brag.) But how does one convey all of that in a succinct way in a forum where good looks are a dime a dozen and, according to reports from several men I’ve dated, crazy lurks behind every 😉 emoji.
For me, the struggle begins with the profile pics, because let’s be real: if you’re “dating” in 2019 and it’s not on a dating app, you somehow exist in a parallel universe only a select few have ever seen.
As soon as that “upload photos” screen appears I start to sweat. Are my selected pics too filtered? (They never are.) Do I look like I’m trying too hard to be cute? Fun? Sexy? (Nope. Probably. Absolutely.) Will all of the white men be really confused as to why my hair is different in every photo? (Is the sky blue???)
But, of course, that’s not the end of it. Now you have to write something interesting about yourself.
Looking for a good guy, not a good time!
No, that’s not it.
Single and ready to mingle!
I’m not your average damsel in distress. I enjoy sports! I’m smart AND funny. Swipe right on me!
In reality, my actual profile description goes a little something like this:
Funny. Direct. Smart.
If all of your pics are selfies and sexy faces, we’re probably not going to get along. Smile!
I spend a lot of time playing 🏐 , 🏌️♀️ and 🎾 , but you don’t have to.
No filters on any of my pics (no makeup either).
Bonus points for messaging me first.
Not the best, but certainly not the worst.
See, I’ve swiped past enough profiles to know what guys say they want. My profile delivers on that: witty, ball-busting, naturally attractive. My matches prove my point — although, my overall relationship success rate says I’m doing something horribly wrong.
The real problem is that most men have shitty online dating profiles. The photos are horrendous (Enough with the car selfies!); the descriptions have grammatical errors (It’s “too,” not “to.”); and they are generally boring AF or stupid AF — the profiles, not the men.
I know this is a generalization, but take the following profiles as examples.
Jeff is bilingual, y’all. He speaks the Español and he’s not afraid to “hola” at you.
Here’s a gem: “You don’t have to be classy, just be cool.” What the fuck does that even mean, Jeff?
“Modern (yet believes in old school chivalry)” So you’ll let me work outside of the home, but won’t let me pay for dinner? On second thought…that’s not so bad.
Also, chill out on the LOLs and JKs, Jeffrey. We get it: you think you’re funny.
Presented without commentary. (Although, you can find commentary in a previous post.)
My advice to men who are in the process of creating or updating their online dating profile: consult your best female friend. Heck, consult the barista at Starbucks. I can pretty much guarantee your matches will go up exponentially. Or at the very least, you won’t be featured on a single woman’s blog about her travails in dating.
Don’t have any female friends? That’s a problem, but not for this blog. Follow these DOs.
DO post solo pics. No one wants to figure out who you are in a group shot. And if all of your pics are group photos, women will just assume you’re the least attractive one.
DO show your full body. So you put on a few pounds over the summer, better to show them off now then on your first date.
DO check your spelling. I feel triggered, so I will not elaborate any further.
DO be honest. If you’re an Uber driver, don’t say you’re a self-employed entrepreneur. Wave that five-star rating in her face!
DO not use too many emojis or exclamation points unless you want to attract someone with half a brain and low standards. (Yup, I’m judgmental. Nope, not adding that to my profile.)
DO not show your dick.
DO fill in the About Me. Sometimes if a woman is on the fence about your looks, a good bio will make or break the match.
DO NOT listen to the advice of a woman who can’t keep a man’s attention for more than a few weeks.
At the end of the day, you pretty much have to DO you.
What are your Dos and Don’ts for online dating profiles? Leave them in the comments.
The award for most strategic use of a hotel towel goes to…
Some of the profiles one comes across on Tinder, Bumble, Hinge and the others are enough to make even the most extroverted person blush.
For the first “Richard pic” of this site, only a true dick pic would suffice. And this one takes the cake — or the towel.
David isn’t looking for a hookup, ya’ll. He is “looking for something serious.” “Serious,” like towel over his junk serious.
Were there no other photo options available? The standard shirtless pic wouldn’t cut it? Was his thought process for forgoing the typical profile photos something like this:
“Photo with my mom? Nope.”
“Playing with my nieces and nephews? Nah.”
”A shot of me smiling on the peak of a random mountain after hiking it with five of my best guy friends, all looking like GQ models fresh off a shoot for the Setpember issue? Wouldn’t work.”
”I know what will make me stand out: my erect penis under a tea towel.”
If these are the options, let’s all remain single forever.