Let me preface this by saying that dating apps are trash. Two years ago, I swiped right for the very last time.
During my foray into the world of online dating, I chatted and sometimes met the most “interesting” cast of characters.
A nice enough man who took me out for coffee; but he had clearly used photos from about 10 years ago in his profile. While he had decent taste in music, it was not a match.
A legit hobo-sexual who was probably one Funko Pop purchase away from living in his car which also happened to be absolutely disgusting. When he learned I was in the process of buying a new house, he was very fast to tell me how “handy” he was. Don’t know what a hobo-sexual is? Heard of Google?
A Q-anon nut case who told me during our dinner that Covid was not real and that it was designed to make sure Americans were all on lockdown while the government tried and executed Bill Gates, Barack Obama, the Clintons and Tom Hanks. The final straw was some utterly disgusting comments he made about LGBTQ people. I stood up and walked out. “That’s it?” he said. “Yep,” I replied.
Block, block, block.
And those are just a few. I’m not even going to go into the boneheads who never even got passed chatting in the app. I will say it’s astounding how many men of my generation are secret maga cretins. It got to be a bit of a routine; any man with the words “Christian” or “conservative” were an immediate block. Anyone in a red hat, gone. I have eyes and ears and a brain and do not have any respect for people who get their information from Fox News.
Anyone holding a fish in any profile pic? See ya. Shirtless? Pass. A mirror selfie with a toilet in the background? No thanks. Gym selfie? Sorry, pal.
But two years ago, on this very day, I swiped right the last time. It had been a hell of a day. I had driven across the state after dropping my daughter off for her second semester of college. I got home, relaxed with a tall glass of cabernet and opened Tinder. I’m thankful I did.
Lightening struck. There he was. The man who was destined for me.
I was immediately drawn to his profile pics; he was handsome and his eyes were kind. He had a great smile underneath a nice beard. A good beard; not one of those “I’m coming home from the Civil War” beards that so many men seem to think are attractive to women now. His bio was smart and contained none of the rhetorical red flags I’d seen so many times.
Right swipe.
No question.
A match; he had swiped on me as well.
He was my last swipe; I was his first.
Those first text exchanges were the most easy conversations I’d ever had. He was funny, respectful, interesting. Didn’t immediately drift into sexual innuendo like so many others had. We chatted into the late night and neither one of us was productive at work the next day. A text from him still makes me smile.
What’s really interesting to me is that we never met in the years leading up to this event. I live in a really really small city and the fact that we never met professionally is a bit wild. Clearly, we were meant to meet that night. We were both married previously so the universe put us together at the proper time.
Never imagined I would meet the perfect yin to my yang on Tinder of all places. Love blossomed like it was the most natural thing in the world. There’s no combat, no chaos, no competition. There’s laughter, respect, passion. We just fit.
This man sees the real me and loves everything about me. He respects my opinions. We are aligned politically, which has been such a boon especially in these crazy times. He gives me space when I need it, and holds me tight always. We are building a life together and that’s enough. It’s more than enough. It’s everything.
We both deleted Tinder and have not looked back.
Happy Tinder Anniversary, baby.
Resist Invisible 