Swipe me? Swipe me Not.
The growing pains of building online connections through the notorious dating app, Tinder.
A half topless picture. Left. Mask covering face on all 7 pictures. Left. A toe? A definite left. At least for me, that’s Tinder. An online dating platform where if you fancy someone, you swipe right. A left swipe and you are basically saying thank you, next. And if you both swiped right on each other, boom! It’s a match. There’s also a super like function, but users refrain from that to prevent being seen as too “desperate”.
Tinder is built for anyone seeking platonic friendships, romantic relationships, or even “dtf” buddies. And no, I’m not referring to the Chinese dumpling establishment. But, let’s be real. While the first few swipes and matches on Tinder may be fun, exhilarating, and might even tug on your heartstrings, the app also brings about the unspoken problems that familiar users go through. Somehow along the blurred lines of conversations and the endless variety of potential matches, comes the destruction of one’s emotional wellbeing and psychological headspace.
Being in a circle full of friends hooked on the app, I was thus introduced to the world of Tinder. Fast forward 3 years, and here I am still lingering somewhere on the app. Arguably, while my group agreed that we’ve all had our fair share of fun dates and newly forged friendships, the toxicity, and side effects whilst being on Tinder was something we all resonated with.
Through the aimless and endless swiping, Tinder managed to cultivate a “never contented or satisfied” culture. A literal realm for instant gratification. In a YouTube interview by the local channel, SG Layers, Lee Yoo Jin remarked that when we managed to match with someone above our standards when we least expected it, we are left wondering “what if there’s more?”. Naturally, we are aroused by greed and the plethora of options out there just reinforces the whole idea of us being perceived as disposable objects. So, when our expectations get greater, and that sadly isn’t met? There comes the great disappointment! When matches starts slowing down and conversations starts becoming repetitive and fizzling out, emotional exhaustion starts creeping in and self-doubt comes knocking on your app.
The frequent “where are you studying?” or “what’s your go-to Netflix show?” surface-level questions are gateways to building new relationships. But small talk burnout was something that I’ve experienced and struggled with. To constantly open myself up at different junctures of my life to different people whom I might not even meet in real life, no doubt, took a toll and gradually became emotionally draining for me. Not to mention, the prevalence of ghosting on dating apps. Chloe Tong, a writer at Zula, defines ghosting as “where somebody slowly lessens communication with no explanation. People did it to me, and I sometimes did it to them.” This term became popular because of its common occurrence, even if you genuinely thought the conversation was heading in the right direction and chemistry was blossoming. When ghosting happens, one starts questioning what went wrong and if it’s because they aren’t likable or attractive enough. Instinctively, we tend to critique and be harsher towards ourselves. However, when there’s a consistent pattern where negative thoughts and feelings of worthlessness start taking over, it can eventually become psychologically detrimental.
In my own crude analogy, Tinder can be compared to a butcher store where users are looking and picking out their specific cut of “meat”. Goh Wei Hao, a writer from Mothership, admits to overanalyzing photos and descriptions of his potential matches. Sadly, I sometimes find myself guilty as charged. The app is heavily dependent on one’s physical outlook and how well you curate your profile. Swiping based on pictures and a short bio about yourself, emphasizes superficiality, thus, encouraging judgmental behavior.
On the flip slide, Tinder provides opportunities for us to link with people we would not do so in real life. Jan Lee, a writer at The Straits Time wrote “with over 200 matches, a hundred conversations and a handful of dates – I have talked to and met people I would not have otherwise”. Indeed, Tinder can be a dream for connections when used healthily. However, it can become a nightmare when it evolves into incessant and obsessive swiping whilst in search of ego-boosting. This tragically leads to the downwards spiral of seeking validation, filling in the empty voids, and trying to heal emotional “traumas”. Local content creator, Brenda Tan speaks up in her Podcast on how she started self-loathing when she was on the app and felt that she was not worth someone nice or even basic respect. This became depressing, negatively affecting her and she eventually took hiatus from it. Being someone who has been in her shoes, I completely resonated to being stuck in a toxic loop of “I’m not good enough” and going for occasional Tinder “cleanses” to ground myself back to reality.
I’m not condoning the use of Tinder, but I am imploring users to use it with an open mind and heart. When Tinder affects you more negatively than positively, I think it’s high time we do ourselves a favor. Re-evaluate your purpose for being on the app and start becoming more self-aware about your actions.
Know your worth and start practicing self-love. Check yourself before you wreck yourself.
Written as an Opinion Essay at University at Buffalo, 2021.
