You Need Help: I’ve Matched With the Same Person Three Times on Tinder

Q:

I need HELP with overcoming/owning a bit of an awkward Tinder situation.

Basically the backstory is I matched with this girl on tinder roughly 4 years ago, we started chatting, and it was going well until she abruptly stopped replying. I let it go as a “she’s probably just not interested.” Fast forward a year or two, we match again, hit it off well again with a brief chat, but then she pretty quickly stopped replying again… Never mind, I moved on and was sort of talking to someone else. Now fast forward another couple of years, and we’ve matched on tinder AGAIN. At this point I’m just confused as to why she keeps matching with me if she doesn’t want to continue conversation. But the awkward part of this all is that we’ve actually also been Facebook friends for 12+ years! I think we drunkenly met at a queer bar and added each other, and we’ve never communicated via Facebook or at all since but we have occasionally throughout the years liked a post of each others here and there. I feel like I know her really well because I’ve basically seen the last 12 years of her life through Facebook. I’ve always found her super attractive and we have a lot of common interests based on our FB posts, but because she keeps ghosting me on Tinder I’ve never really pursued anything. Now that we’ve matched on Tinder a third time, I want to reach out to her somehow but in a way that might woo her a bit more than our regular Tinder chat that hasn’t seemed to keep her interest in the past. Her Tinder is pretty explicit that she’s looking for a partner rather than anything more casual. Seeking ideas and advice on how to really own this and not make it more awkward than it already is!

A:

This situation is indeed kind of awkward, and the fact that the two of you have basically been circling each other for over a decade sounds like something out of a romantic comedy. But unfortunately, this is real life, and I think you have to let go of this person for good. Her recurring appearance in your life is strange, but it’s not necessarily meaningful. Exploring more meaningful connections and relationships will make your romantic life much more satisfying!

If she were interested in dating you, there have been so many opportunities for her to follow through on pursuing that. Online dating isn’t new anymore, and yet it’s still hard to lock down what certain things mean when it comes to people’s behaviors on apps. Basically, everyone uses apps differently! It’s possible this person just swipes pretty casually. A match in and of itself does not mean a commitment to anything more. Recurring matching seems like it should mean something, but it might not at all. I want you to have a happy, fulfilling dating life, and I think you might be getting in your own way by focusing so much on this person. Even though she states she’s looking for a partner on Tinder, that also doesn’t really change the situation here. All the matching and then disappearing is hard to read, but she has a right to use Tinder however she wants. And I honestly don’t think it’s worth the effort to analyze and interpret the intentions of a stranger who has interacted with you somewhat inconsistently.

I know some people might disagree with me, but I don’t really think it’s “ghosting” if you haven’t met up/taken the connection beyond the app. You said yourself that the conversation ended pretty quickly in both instances. There are a million possible reasons she stopped replying. Some people are on multiple apps or also meeting people IRL. Some people just ebb and flow in the time and energy they give to Tinder. Sometimes, people’s capacity for online dating/chatting just changes. Ultimately, she doesn’t owe you an explanation. And ultimately, it’s a futile mission to try to read her mind. In fact, I’m avoiding any definitive statements about what her behavior means, because I think it could be any number of things, but more importantly, I think it doesn’t even really matter when it comes to you and your life. I really, truly think you’re better off letting go of her. Her pattern likely has to do with her own stuff and nothing to do with you.

You say you want help overcoming/owning an awkward situation, but there’s nothing really to own here. No one has done anything wrong. As for the overcoming part, you shouldn’t consider this situation a rejection. I think you should shift away from thinking your past conversations haven’t effectively wooed her into thinking this is just not the right person for you. You shouldn’t have to fight to keep someone’s interest ever in a relationship, but especially at the beginning.

I get she doesn’t feel like a stranger. You’ve talked. You’ve seen her life unfold on Facebook. I think those details coupled with her recurring appearance on the app have maybe intensified the way you feel toward her. This happens a lot! It’s easy to project onto people we barely know and romanticize our connection with them. It’s easy to fantasize about the potential of someone and the potential of a relationship. But this person isn’t the one that got away. Again, that concept is just rom-com fantasy. Social media and dating apps don’t paint a full picture of a person, and at the end of the day, what do you really know about her after a couple brief chats? I understand you want a chance to get to know her better, but if she wanted the same, it likely would have happened already. I think you should focus your energy on talking to people who want to talk to you. There are other people out there who will be thrilled to keep the conversation going.

You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.

A Very Sensible, Queer Guide to Sending the First Message on Dating Apps

Before I met my current girlfriend, I decided to master Tinder. I know Tinder is not a game. I didn’t necessarily want to win Tinder, but I did want to be good at it. And the reason was simple: I was terrible at dating. And the reason for that was simple, too: at the age when everyone else was learning how to date, I was extremely closeted.

I came out at the very end of college, and I struggled. I didn’t know how to meet girls. I have always been an extroverted introvert, a contradicting duality I often attribute to being a Gemini, which makes connecting with people difficult. But I’ve been connecting with people on the internet since high school. Some of my best friends today are people I met on tumblr years ago. There’s something about the structure and culture of the internet that makes it easy for me to open up to people, bond with them, and eventually take our relationships into the real world.

Dating apps immediately seemed familiar, and not all that different from other ways to build relationships online. Hooking up with girls and connecting with other local queer people no longer seemed insurmountable. Tinder can be exhausting, and my relationship with it was extremely love/hate. But I had some fun. And none of it would have happened if I hadn’t dived into the part of Tinder that can be the most anxiety-inducing: sending the first message.

Some Tinder philosophers maintain that you should never send the first message. I personally think that approach is bullshit. You swiped right; they swiped right. You’ve both expressed interest on a very surface level. Why wait? Send the first message! Don’t open with something generic or weak that isn’t going to prompt them to answer. Start with a question. My recommendation? Ask an absurdly specific and slightly bizarre question about pop culture. (If you don’t care about pop culture, ask a specific and slightly bizarre question about something you do care about, duh.) It’s an easy way to see if you have similar interests, to talk about culture and art, and to have a fun back-and-forth before making plans to meet up.

Below, some suggestions for Tinder opening lines. I’m not saying the following is an exhaustive list of every first message I sent,* but it does include the best. Borrow and go forth. Or suggest your own in the comments!

Tinder Opening Lines For Everyone

1. “Do you have a favorite Fast & Furious movie?”

This line was, without a doubt, my favorite way to start conversations on Tinder. Far too many of my matches did not have an answer, but they always replied, because in a sea of “what’s ups” and “how are yous” and “heys,” my first stab at striking up conversation stood out. One time, a girl gave a complete answer with reasons and everything… only to later admit that she had never seen any of the films and had made the whole thing up in a panic. If nothing else, this tactic at least led to some comedy. But to be clear: it also led to some dates.

good answer

bad answer

pretentious answer

weird answer

flirty answer

2. “Have you ever cried during Dawson’s Creek be honest.”

Honesty is a great quality in a potential sexual partner.

3. “How would you rank the noses of all the cast members of Cruel Intentions?”

In college, an inside joke with one of my friends about the structure and integrity of Sarah Michelle Gellar’s nose spun wildly out of control when I made a password-protected blog dedicated to the matter (the password is “nose”). A few years later, and the joke was still wildly out of control, seeping into my Tinder presence. Sarah Michelle Gellar has a lovely nose. Cruel Intentions is a great movie. At some point, I decided this was a perfectly reasonable question to ask people I was trying to make out with.

4. “What’s your favorite scene from Bend It Like Beckham?”

This one led to some of my favorite Tinder conversations.

5. “Serious question: How do you feel about the Grey’s Anatomy musical episode?”

I am 100% serious when discussing Grey’s Anatomy (or any Shonda Rhimes show for that matter), so this question started with an important disclaimer. It is very important to be totally upfront with matches about your interests, even if those interests are slightly embarrassing or otherwise chip away at the very cool and sexy exterior of your Tinder profile. There’s nothing wrong with being a little earnest and a little goofy. And there’s nothing more earnest or goofy than the Grey’s Anatomy musical episode and my unironic love for it.

6. “Do you want to watch the back-to-back airing of Maid in Manhattan on oxygen with me on Monday?”

This message served two purposes: finding out how they feel about Jennifer Lopez’s acting career and also suggesting an actual date.

7. “How do you feel about Jennifer Lopez’s acting career?”

Sometimes, you just gotta get straight to the point.

8. “How many times have you watched Rihanna’s iHeartRadio Music Awards performance of ‘Bitch Better Have My Money’ today?”

I think I threatened to unmatch anyone who said zero.

9. “How do you feel about Dana Scully?”

A sensible question in all scenarios.

10. “What’s your favorite season of The Good Wife?”

My Tinder bio at the time read: “Looking for the Alicia to my Kalinda.”

11. “If you were a Shonda Rhimes character, who would you be?”

This is a really easy way to find out if they are a sociopath.

12. “Do you have a favorite Terminator movie?”

T2 is the right answer, but T3 is the gayest.

13. “Have you ever subscribed to the Goop newsletter?”

I just need to know.

14. “Who would you cast as the Halliwell sisters in a Charmed reboot?”

People have some STRONG OPINIONS about this one. I love it.

How to Choose Dating App Photos That’ll Have Babes Swiping Hell Yes

We’re revisiting this classic Autostraddle piece on queer dating as we get back to dating basics in partnership with HER’s Queer Dating 101, a series of live edutainment events that brings in concrete how-tos, insights, experts and some of your favorite Autostraddle personalities to help you find love (or whatever you’re looking for) in the time of corona. Check out the first event, the Dating Preparedness Kit, tonight, Tuesday 1/12, at 6pm PT | 9pm ET!

So you’ve accepted Tinder into your life, if not your heart. We’ve taught you how to write a great swipe-worthy Tinder profile. But what about the visual aspect of a dating app profile? How do you curate the photos that will make fellow hot queers swipe right on your cute face? You want to look like your best self: fun, hot, interesting, and lez be real, it doesn’t hurt if you look like you might actually send the first message.

Of course, like all aspects of a dating profile, and dating in general, you can’t please everyone – some things that will ping for one queer will make another go running far, far away. But that’s just the way life works, and if you’re a Nature Queer you don’t want to date someone who hates hiking anyway, so it’s fine. Even taking personal tastes into account, there are some basic rules you can follow when choosing photos for your dating profile that will help your online dating life thrive.

Can I guarantee that these tips will lead to more queers sending you the first message, actually going on more dates, or getting laid by someone who will text you back the next day? Sure can’t! But I can guarantee that following these tips will make your dating profile as strong as it can be. Here’s how you can curate your Best Dating Self via your Tinder photos.

DO: Have at least three photos.

Okay, if you’re going to the trouble to make a Tinder profile, you might as well give it your best shot. Anything less than three photos is not your best shot. Tinder is an app that relies heavily on visuals and so you need to actually include some visuals. That’s why you’re reading this article, right?! I personally think three photos is the absolute minimum amount you should include in a Tinder profile, but Tinder allows you to include up to nine, so you can decide what you want to do with that info. I think it’s important to use this space to show off a really full picture of you – you know how your face looks kind of different at different angles, and sometimes you wear glasses and sometimes you wear contacts, and occasionally you remove your lip ring, and also you dye your hair a different color every month? Right, so you want to show off all the versions of you that you can – the only way to do this, superficially, is by posting many photos. I would also suggest at least one full body shot, probably because I am a fat person, and I want to highlight my fat body – if someone is fatphobic, that’s a great way to weed them out right away. Personally, I have nine photos on my profile right now. More is more.

DON’T: Use multiple versions of the same thing.

As we just discussed, it’s important to have a nice variety of pictures, so the babes swiping feel like they’re getting to see a few different sides of you and your vibe. If you post three+ photos like I just instructed you to (great work) but they’re all selfies from the exact same angle, that’s not actually doing the work that posting three photos is supposed to do. Many of the folks I interviewed for this article (yes I researched this for you babes! I care!) said they really appreciate a nice variety of posed, candid, and selfie shots. It’s ideal if not all the images are selfies. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – it’s 2019. If your bestie / co-worker / mom won’t take 1000+ photos of you so that you can look your best on the dating app of your choice then WHAT ARE WE ALL EVEN DOING HERE.

DO: Make sure the photos are good quality images.

You want your photo to be well lit, composed nicely, and to have a general “good aesthetic.” If it’s helpful, imagine each photo you’re posting as if it’s going to be featured in a magazine! Or on the front page of your favorite website. I know not everyone fancies themselves a photographer or a self-appointed Instagram celeb, and that’s fine, but it’s actually fairly easy to take a good quality image. Some quick tips: natural light is nice, avoid very harsh sun and if things seem too bright find a spot of shade, avoid weird shadows on your face, Portrait Mode on the newer iPhones is a huge life hack (and I am told that Androids and other smart phones now have similar modes but I’m not personally familiar with them), make sure your face is *in focus*, and always take multiple shots (that way you can text them to your BFF later and decide which one is best). Kayla’s groundbreaking research in this area focuses largely on thirst traps, a subset of photo types, but many of the guidelines for composition and lighting etc apply regardless of how much clothing you’re wearing. I understand this might seem overwhelming, but it is really truly worth it, I swear. If you still feel like you have no idea what you’re doing, examine some of the photos you personally are drawn to on Tinder or Instagram and then try to mimic that when you take your own pictures. You can do it!

DON’T: Blurry photos, bad lighting, or Snapchat/Instagram filters.

You can have one or two photos with shitty indoor club lighting or a blurry omg-I-was-laughing-so-hard-you-can’t-really-see-my-face-but-look-how-fun-and-spontaneous-I-am candid vibe, but you better have multiple crisp well-lit portraits to balance that out if that’s the route you choose to take, okay? Also I’m sorry, I’m coming down with a hard no on Snapchat filters. No. Snapchat. Filters. No! Exceptions! You want someone to be into you based on what you actually look like, not what a blurry bunny version of you looks like. I will die on this hill, it’s for your own good, you’re welcome.

DO: Highlight who you are!

The whole point of a dating profile is to show off who you are, in a curated and vaguely superficial way, so that you can hopefully connect with other babes who like who you are! That’s like, the whole thing. So it is in your best interest to use the photos in your dating app profile to highlight what makes you special and fun and, you know, you. Show off your hobbies, your skills, your thirst traps if that’s your vibe. If you’re a farmer, include some photos of yourself with your animals, or at your farm stand. If you DJ, I’m sure you have some sweet professional photos of you doing your thing at that hot and sweaty monthly gay night you host – what a perfect image to add to your dating profile! Love your cat? Include your cat. Have kids? Put ’em in there! (If you don’t want to include your kids’ in your dating profile because of their privacy or because you’re uncomfortable posting photos of your kiddos online that is completely understandable – some of my pals work around this by putting cute emojis over their kids’ faces. If you don’t want to include any photos of your kids at all that is absolutely your call, but I would then put somewhere in the word portion of your bio that you have kids – for most parents I know, that’s a pretty important part of their lives, and you’re doing yourself a favor to weed out anyone who would swipe left simply because you’re a parent.)

DON’T: Pretend to be someone you’re not.

Listen, I love a good thirst trap, because I am an extroverted slut who practices body love as a form of self care and is really into getting attention from friends and strangers on the internet alike. It would be disingenuous for me not to include a thirst trap or seven on my dating app profile. But if you are shy, or not super sexual, that is totally fine and wonderful! And you should not feel pressured to include slutty thirst traps in your dating app profile! I cannot stress enough that aside from including well lit photos that actually show multiple angles of your face/personality/life, the most important thing about a photo on a dating app profile is that it reflects you. If you hate being outside, do not post the one smiling photo you managed to take on that camping trip from hell. If you are allergic to cats, you’re not obligated to pose with your friend’s kitty in the hopes of luring the lesbians to your cat-free life. If you’re nerdy and book-ish I guarantee you there are a million people who wanna curl up at the library and spend some sweet introvert time with you – no need to post images where you’re pretending to enjoy being at a dance party. One person I interviewed for this post actually said her favorite thing on a dating profile is thirst traps with books. “It’s niche but I’m into it,” she said, which is such a perfect way to think about what’s happening when we all look at dating profiles. Don’t cater to a niche you’re not into!

Final Tips

A genuine, big, confident, happy smile is the number one thing every single human I spoke to for this article mentioned when talking about what attracts them to a dating app profile, so I dunno, unless you literally hate smiling (be yourself, remember) I’d recommend finding a photo where you are flashing a KILLER smile and make that your first image. This is controversial, but I personally don’t love including any group photos – it’s confusing. I understand the urge and some folks say they like seeing candid group shots that show you are a real human with real friends and know how to experience joy while engaging in activities with said friends, so, like I said, controversial, but I personally just want to see photos of you on your dating app profile. If you’re going to include group shots make sure you include multiple solo photos so we all know which hot queer you actually are. Also controversial, but I don’t think you should use any of your precious picture real estate on memes, photos of your pet by themselves, or “ironic” images of like, your messy bedroom floor. That’s what your Instagram is for. Which brings us to my final tip – if you’re comfortable, link your Instagram to your Tinder account. I will forever stand by my very strong opinion that Instagram Is The Best Dating App For Queers In 2019, and I think a lot of the work that Tinder pictures are trying to do – show off what you actually look like, prove that you have friends and hobbies and a personality, cultivate your True Self while still also being clearly, you know, cultivated – can be done far more successfully on Instagram.

To conclude: Be confident, be real, lean into your strengths and your specific niche interests, never ever ever use a Snapchat filter, try to be authentic in this weird inauthentic world of dating apps, and as one sweet queer said to me: honestly, the gayer the better!!! Amen.

Want to learn more? Register for the Dating Preparedness Kit event tonight with HER host Nicole Lim and Autostraddle Managing Editor Rachel Kincaid, and check out the other upcoming Queer Dating 101 events!

Every Opening Line I’ve Received and Sent on Tinder Since the Pandemic Began

I love dating. I’ve tried to fight this truth. I’ve tried to say I love meeting new people or I love romance, but that’s a lie. I genuinely love the act of dating. Or at least I did before the pandemic.

So many of the pleasures of dating — including off-line dating — have been taken away by our isolation. It seems like every day I log onto Twitter dot com to discover another mutual of mine somehow found a pandemic soulmate, but for me forming long term connections has felt hopeless. And yet I keep swiping! Because, again, I love dating. Even under the circumstances.

There have been several people who I’ve matched with and started talking to and even FaceTimed with only for it to eventually fizzle out. It’s not that it’s totally impossible to see someone safely — it just takes a lot more effort. I spent all summer in my friend’s one-bedroom apartment and if someone else was also able to isolate we could have met up. But that’s a lot of commitment for a first date and it’s hard enough finding someone you like, let alone like and who has a similar relationship to pandemic safety as you. And yet I’ve kept swiping.

Throughout the pandemic I’ve gone through periods where I really enjoyed chatting with people on apps, and periods where nothing could interest me less. Sometimes swiping is less about actually meeting people and more about remembering that other people exist. When faced with actually forming a texting relationship, the exhaustion of the moment can make that feel impossible. Dating is always a bit Sisyphean, but during the pandemic so many of the things that make it worth it are gone.

Sometimes someone will message me and I won’t respond not because I’m not interested in them, but because I’m just not interested in anyone. I’ve definitely messaged first a lot less in recent months than I did in the beginning of quarantine or before this all began.

I started thinking about the opening lines people send to me and I send to people and wondered if there was any consistency in when they lead to conversation and more. The answer? Not really! It seems to have much more to do with our moods and how much we like each other — at least on my end.

But what I discovered instead was a sort of pandemic dating log. Even now — especially now — we’re still looking for connection and whether we express that in a “hi” or in a wordy flirt I think it’s really lovely to witness. Dating might suck sometimes, but it’s also a space where people are vulnerable and take risks and learn about others and themselves. Even if I haven’t fallen in love, I’m grateful for the people I’ve met and the virtual moments we’ve shared. I’m grateful to have something that pushes me to keep swiping — even if all evidence says just wait until 2022.

5 Ways to Send the First Tinder Message That Aren’t Just Saying “Hey There”

In many ways dating apps streamline so much about dating — you can select and filter who you want to see, it provides an opportunity for you to clarify for yourself and others what you’re looking for, and in an ideal world people can clarify before you even meet them whether they’re a top/bottom/someone who thinks mint and chocolate taste good together and therefore unfortunately not a viable option for you. However, there are some things dating apps cannot change — for instance, you are still going to need to speak to the other person if you wish to eventually have sex with them. It’s a hard knock life, etc.

Maybe the best way to psyche yourself up for this is through baby steps: “all you have to do is say hi!” This is true, and if that is what it takes for you to get yourself to message someone, you should absolutely do it! However, the truth is “hi” (or its variants, “hey” and a contextless gif) is kind of a tough sell; it doesn’t give the other person a lot to work with, and really kind of just moves the ball as far as initiating an actual conversation into the other person’s court. Much like how a bio should be written with the goal of giving a hottie something to react to, a first message should be easy to reply to and easy to move the conversation forward from! What does one say to “hey” aside from “hey,” or on a sunny day, “hey!” I ask of you.

Widely beloved first-messager and Autostraddle writer Molly told me her tried and true combo is “Hello + introduce yourself + compliment + ask a question,” noting that it projects self-confidence and also makes your interest in the other person clear, which are great goals for a first message. “Be specific with the compliment,” she told me, “make it something about their outfit or bio or haircut to show you’re paying attention. Finally, ask them a question about themselves; again, I like to be specific to the bio or photos, because it shows you’re not just spamming a bunch of babes with a copy/paste.”

This is excellent advice and I would urge you to follow it! Largely, though, in the same vein, let’s think about the goal of a first message: to start a conversation, and get the other person to respond; once you’re both present and accounted for, you can start seeing if anything actually even goes anywhere. With that established, here are five ways you can try sending the first message that show you’re actually trying.

What are you reading/watching/listening to?

Almost everyone on earth is doing one of these things every day! It’s telling about them as a person without being too personal to reveal, shows interest in them, and will also be good for you to get a sense of whether what they’re into seems weird or dumb to you. Best of all, this question has many natural followup questions that can lead into a full conversation — oh I haven’t heard of that band, how did you get into them? I love that author! Have you read this other title by them?

Ask for a rec

People love to feel knowledgeable and like their taste is admired and respected; it also creates a sense of trust to have helped you with something, and for you to have admitted early on that they know more about something than you. They mention they like horror movies? Ask them what you should start with! They like to read? Ask what book you should bring on your long flight next week! Obviously there are limits to this, determined by the difficulty involved on their end – if they are gonna have to do two hours of research to tell you what kind of seed you’ll need to attract Northwestern Warblers in your backyard, that is probably not flirty and fun. But a question that asks them to tell you about something they like and care about and indicates you’ll take it seriously and check it out? Hot!

Playful debate!

If someone has shared a low-stakes yet controversial take in their bio — avocados are bad, actually! They love pineapple on pizza! They hate pineapple on pizza! They thought Buffy and Angel made sense on Buffy! — it could be an opportunity lightly! playfully! flirtily! engage them on it in a way that is angling for Banter, the way that hip rom coms have taught us we should identify our one true love. “Buffy and Angel! I am, respectfully, horrified. What about when…” This can be an easy way to start talking to someone, and also a good way to tell if you have any kind of overlap or chemistry with someone, at least over text; does the back and forth flow? Are you laughing? Is the other person getting too competitive and taking it too seriously and therefore not fun? There you go.

However, much like other rom-com activities like carrying large cue cards across a city and orchestrating a secret declaration of love with them or having beachy waves every single day, playful banter is actually pretty hard, and if you are feeling unsure of this option or like you aren’t confident you can do it without coming off as argumentative, I would encourage you to honor that feeling! That is fine, there are other things you can say.

Future plans

If “hi” is the absolute bar on the floor of first messages, the followup is “How’s your day?” This is a good question to ask a close friend or coworker or something, but much like with the question “how are you,” when a stranger asks you there is almost no way to respond to it other than “fine!” The things that are happening to us on a day to day basis are frequently boring, often not under our control, and sometimes embarrassing. We don’t always want to talk about them with strangers! However, asking about future plans is something that’s under the other person’s control, and also probably aspirational and cool. “How’s your summer been” is likely to get a “fine;” “do you have anything you’re excited about for this summer?” might get you to a discussion of a farmers’ market or, idk, plans to get a commercial vehicle license. You’re off to the races!

Icebreaker!

Although all of you have been previously instructed to actually fill out your bio, thereby giving other people something to actually say to you, many of you are still reluctant to do so, OR have done the thing where you just put one quixotic and mysterious line (“eyebrows of an angel, septum piercing of a sailor”) (what??? does that mean?) which may potentially make you seem hot and above it all, but is also virtually impossible to respond to. Luckily, Kayla has got you covered already with her comprehensive yet approachable guide to sending the first message on Tinder, which often takes the approach of basically, well, an icebreaker. Borrow one of hers (I’m partial to “do you have a favorite Fast & Furious movie?”) or follow along in the same spirit and create your own.

Is there any guarantee any of these will work? Absolutely not. Can you at least say you tried, and maybe get into one or two good-natured arguments about casting on the L Word? Yes, for sure. Tell us your favorite/least favorite first message strategies!

11 Queers Share the Best and Worst Lines They’ve Gotten on Dating Apps

In 2019 many people connect with other humans by swiping in one direction or another, whichever way life takes them, on their phone screen. Even after an app informs you that someone you think is cute also thinks you are cute, however, someone (two someones, really, if this is going to go anywhere) have to speak to one another! Sometimes that goes swimmingly, and others it is a disaster. Let us learn from each other’s successes and mistakes. Here are the best and/or worst things people have said to us when trying to date us!

How to Write a Non-Monogamous Dating Profile

Writing a lesbian, bisexual or queer online dating profile — whether on an app like Tinder or HER, or on a website like OkCupid — can be especially anxiety-inducing if you’re into alternative relationships. Do you put that you’re non-monogamous in your profile, or wait until you meet people to share it? Do you announce that you’re already in multiple relationships? Do you include pictures of your partners? What if you and your girlfriend want to find a unicorn for an occasional guest star role, and how do you create a profile that doesn’t come off as creepy or tacky? When swiping through the thirsty masses, what red flags should you look out for?

Here’s how to fly your ethical consensually non-monogamous, polyamorous, open, unicorn or whatever else flag in your online dating profile so you get the best possible interactions.

1. Put your relationship style in your profile, especially if you’re looking for more than sex.

Lead with what you’re available for! My Tinder profile highlights my polyamorous identity, along with all my identities, in the very first line: “I’m a queer white kinky polyamorous switch in two committed LTRs, and I am primarily into trans grrrls and MoC folks.” This sets me up for maximum success in that it automatically deters racists, vanilla folks, heterosexual cisgender people and monogamous folks. You could also try lines like: “I have lots of different types of relationships in lots of places, and I’m excited to see what kind of relationship I could have with someone else,” “poly/open, you should be too,” or “firmly poly/ethically non-monogamous.”

If you don’t make it blatantly obvious, especially in profiles aimed at relationships, that you’re only available for non-monogamous connections, you risk being accused of being “deceitful,” “tricking” or “wasting the time of” monogamous matches you follow up with. And to be honest, I don’t blame those folks one bit! Time is finite. If I were seeking a monogamous commitment and my match waited until the end of our first dinner date to say that she was non-monogamous, my brain would immediately run through all of the other ways I could have spent that time.

For a hook-up profile — like one on Grindr — it may not be necessary to list what your preferred relationship style is one way or the other, unless you’re notorious for catching fast feels after connecting sexually.

2. Be clear about the type of relationship(s) you’re open to.

Specificity is key for many non-monogamous people on the prowl. “Non-monogamy” is an umbrella term that includes a ton of concepts. There are dozens of ways to do lesbian, bisexual and queer non-monogamous relationships, so the more specific you get, the better. If you’re a relationship anarchist or a swinger, for example, say so. In general, it’s usually good to mention if you practice hierarchical non-monogamy, and if so whether or not you already have a primary partner.

Whatever language you use, remember that people have different working definitions based on age, geographical location, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, etc., and that it’s good to go into any potential interaction with as few assumptions as humanly possible both about how someone else uses a word and about their understanding of how you use it.

For example, if I’m traveling for work and only in a city for a few days, my visiting profile might read: “Only in town for the weekend! Looking for new erotic friendships and hook-up buddies who want to stay in touch.” Simply writing that I’m in a “long term relationship” wouldn’t be enough information, since each long-term relationship looks different from the next and you’re not actually saying what you can get up to or not.

3. Point to your partners’ profiles if applicable.

Some people use the label “non-monogamous” dishonestly with the goal of gaining increased access to more sexual partners. These individuals are often in monogamous commitments IRL yet advertise themselves as non-monogamous online so that they can have their cake and eat it too, and most participants in ethical, transparent, consensual non-monogamy want NO PART of that cheating bullshit.

To assure possible matches that you truly walk the walk, consider including your partners in your profile, both in text — try “I’m in a wonderful primary relationship with an amazing queer femme” or “I’m in a committed relationship with an amazing bisexual man who loves seeing me get my needs met” — and in photo! I typically include a picture of myself with my partners alongside all of the solo pics I post to show off. Bonus points if your partner(s) use the same dating app and you can link to their profiles; this gives you a level of credibility that is ultra attractive to non-monogamy newcomers.

4. Remember that sometimes discretion is legit.

Despite everything I said earlier, there ARE a few legitimate reasons why people might not come out as non-monogamous in their dating profiles. Some people are on Tinder for only platonic friendships (hey, it happens!), or have a job in a conservative field and don’t want coworkers to see them identify as non-monogamous on OkCupid, or have kids and are afraid a partner might use polyamory to prove they’re an “unfit parent” in a custody battle. If you need to leave your alternative relationship structure out of your profile, I HIGHLY recommend including it — as well as the reason for its absence from your profile — in the first message you send a match. Try something like: “Hey there! Thanks so much for reaching out to me — I was really intrigued by [something very specific] on your profile. I believe in absolute transparency with online dating, and I wanted you to know right off the bat that I’m not currently available for monogamous commitments. I practice ethical non-monogamy with openness and pride, but I’m stuck in this conservative job where I can’t risk advertising that on a profile that a coworker could find! Hope you understand.”

5. Watch out for red flags.

Specifically:

• • People who are “trying out” non-monogamy. You don’t want to be anyone’s experiment.
  • People who are new to non-monogamy but haven’t taken the initiative to educate themselves through text, podcasts, workshops, discussion groups, etc. This indicates laziness and a predisposition against personal growth.
  • Couples looking for unicorns. More on that below.
  • People advertising that they’re only available for Don’t Ask Don’t Tell (DADT). It sounds like a con, and often is. Additionally, DADT relationships have a low chance of sustainability because they’re inherently not transparent.
  • People who identify as “single” and “fine with non-monogamy.” These folks rarely have any experience with or desire for non-monogamy and will typically become problematic quite fast. If it were truly part of their identity or experience, they would say so.

6. Unicorn hunting: Proceed with caution.

“Unicorn hunting” is a controversial concept. While I don’t think that couples who want to add a third person to their sex life deserve any shame or ridicule, there is a certain finesse to seeking her out. Here are some tips and tricks to help you word your profile in the most authentic, respectful, mature way possible:

• If you want a unicorn, watch your wording. You may think you’re being cute by writing that you and your partner want to “spice things up!” or “add to the mix!,” but it can come off as objectifying and trivializing of whatever genuine connection you and your partner may make with someone. It’s better to be succinct, specific and sincere, and to name things for what they are, for example, “We are a loving couple looking to date a special person together” or “We’re loving girlfriends looking to meet a switch! Our ideal relationship structure is a triad.”
• If you want to approach a couple seeking a unicorn, consider the power imbalance. As a potential third, you’re often expected to be attracted “equally” (not a thing) to both individuals in the couple, to accommodate a predetermined list of rules set by the couple, and to “not rock the boat,” particularly by daring to communicate your OWN boundaries (gasp!). This is a hell of a lot to ask of someone who has a lot more to lose should the couple suddenly decide to break off ties. The couple has each other; meanwhile, the third loses connections with two distinct intimates.
• Couples who want a unicorn should deconstruct why unicorn hunting is often filled with entitlement and inappropriate expectations before seeking out a unicorn of their own.
• For everyone: Try the unicorn dating both individuals in the couple separately to see if everyone clicks. Confronting a potential third as a united front can come off as ganging up. Plus, we often show different sides of ourselves when we’re within a unit dynamic than we do when we’re a free agent, and allowing a unicorn access to all dimensions of each person may create a more authentic connection when all three come together.

7. Remember to carry honesty and transparency — as well as an open mind and lack of assumptions — into the actual dating process.

For real, though! If you put all of this effort into sculpting a non-monogamous dating profile, why self-sabotage it by losing your guiding light once you actually connect in person? If that isn’t enough to hold you accountable, consider this: non-monogamous lesbians, bisexuals, and queer women and folks are still a minority. Because of this, we communicate with each other. A LOT. Generally if one of us starts seeing a partner who doesn’t have a good track record with past relationships, it’s only a matter of time before our attention gets called to it. That kind of community solidarity and vigilance are — in my opinion — what truly differentiate non-monogamy from monogamy.

If You Show Me Yours I’ll Show You Mine: Autostraddle Staffers’ Tinder Profiles

feature image via Shutterstock

I just moved to LA, and one of the best things about living in a new city is being able to actually use Tinder. Back in Idaho there were, like, seven people on there. It was garbage. So now that I can actually meet people for fun dates, hook ups or even lifelong romantic partnerships, I decided that I needed to amp up my tinder profile. I turned to Archie Bongiovanni because they’re the first person I think of when I think of Tinder. So I can’t really take credit for mine, it was all Archie with a little bit of Cecelia, but my new profile is a HUGE HIT.

I hear a lot of people say that no one reads Tinder bios, but honestly if you don’t have one, I automatically swipe left (same if you say “just looking for friends” or you have a gun in your pictures). In my opinion, a good Tinder profile is more important than good hygiene. First impressions are important, and this is a digital first impression. There are plenty of stylish, hot people who are boring or terrible; I need way more than a picture to decide if I’m interested.

In the interests of sharing our collective knowledge, here are the tinder profiles of some of your favorite Autostraddle staffers along with our number one Tinder Tips. I’d swipe right on all of these.

Mey, Music and Trans Editor

“Always swipe right on a couple if the guy is good looking. Also, find out their social media so you know they’re not murderers.”

Alaina, Staff Writer

“Swipe left more often than you swipe right.”

Stef, Vapid Fluff Editor

“Check for lice first.”

Erin, Staff Writer

“Don’t ask if people want to give you money”

Raquel, Intern

“Firstly I’m sorry that I’m just here for friends BUT if you swipe right on everyone who seems smart and interesting, you may not get laid but you’re guaranteed a good conversation and isn’t that often better?? lol everyone’s going to hate me. Sorry I’m monogamous everyone I’m sorry.”

Nikki, Intern

“Good luck.”

Carmen, Straddleverse and Feminism Editor

“Don’t ghost because tinder karma appears real heard it from a friend jk it’s me I have bad tinder karma i hate this.”

Cee, Technical Director

“If you match, send them a message, because they probably won’t send you one.”

Kayla, Staff Writer

“Start the conversation by asking them to rank the Fast & Furious movies. This has a 100% success rate, I’m serious.”

(Kayla is so cool she gave me three different profiles from throughout the years)

Carolyn, NSFW Editor

“The less back and forth there is before asking to meet, the better.”

Cecelia, Staff Writer

“Be really bold. Don’t waste time with small talk. If you know you want to meet up, schedule a time within the first few messages.”

Archie, Cartoonist

“Tinder is the BEST when traveling! Use it to ask folks which queer party you should hit up, where the best food is and what you should see/do on your trip. Also when you’re traveling, you’re a hot new person in the city, so if you mention folks have to act fast to meet you, it makes people a lot more motivated to actually get out and greet you!

That and don’t let your expectations get too high.”

Every Way To Find A Date, Ranked By A Shane

I have a confession to make: I’m watching The L Word for the first time this summer. Well, actually I watched the first season forever ago but I stopped at season two when my body would not physically allow me to continue past the opening song. But this time around, I gave in and let the opening song sashay, shante and Stockholm Syndrome it’s way into my heart. And can I just say how honored I am to share the soundtrack to my fever dreams with you?

The best part about watching The L Word is finally getting to choose which character I am. I was hoping to be Dana, because you were right, person who sighs her name breathlessly at parties while I shove a cheese cracker into my mouth and pretend like I know who you’re talking about, Dana’s for sure the baby angel emoji. But here’s what I realized: you don’t get to choose a character for yourself. It’s more like you find yourself relating to a character and then resisting this feeling with a combination of awe and terror before you can no longer deny who you are in your heart. This is how I discovered I’m a Shane.

Look, I didn’t ask for this fate. I didn’t ask for monogamy to be the source of my ruin. And I hope that in the “Where Are They Now” interview, Shane reveals that after the show ended, she discovered the joys of polyamory and is now leading a fulfilling life with multiple partners, minus the guilt and self-loathing. And you know what? I feel like the more well-adjusted Shanes of the world have a lot to offer in terms of dating advice. And there are so many new ways post-L Word to get a date in this world of digital-virtual-hijinks! So here we go, apropos of nothing:

12. HER 

This app is the LifeAlert™ of the queer dating world. You think downloading it will save your life, but then when it doesn’t actually work, you return to your regularly scheduled programming of “help I have fallen and I can’t get up.”

11. Bumble

Keep this one for motivation when you’re having a hard time connecting with people on dates, because scrolling through it will remind you how simultaneously weird and boring straight people are, and at least you’re not that!

10. School

This one is good if you know that every Tuesday and Thursday at noon you will be in a class with this one person who is really dreamy but you need approximately two months to muster the courage to talk to them specifically. This one is bad if you don’t like the breaking up with said person after a tumultuous love affair and getting stuck in a class with them again next semester.

9. Work

This one has very similar pros & cons to school, so plan accordingly!

8. Sports

I know, I know, don’t date anyone in your roller derby league. Counterargument: y’all. Are you for real telling me to sign up for the gayest activity invented and then repress my very gay feelings in this space that was, I repeat, invented for gayness? (winging the history of roller derby here, but it feels right) Lucky for you, I’ll never sign up for roller derby because the only convincing thing I can do with my body is dance.

7. Facebook 

Some people are like: “But Cecelia, how do you do it?” I think, dear readers and fans, that maybe you think being dateable equals being charming and confident and smoldering all the time, but I come prepared with receipts to show you that everyone, even Shanes like me, meet strangers through the internet the same way everyone else does: awkwardly and dare I say, abrasively!

6. Instagram

I gave you a really thorough defense of Instagram as a dating app a few months ago. Check in: how did that work for you? As a reminder, here’s the Instagram formula: 1) Do they like your photos? 2. Do they also follow you? 3. Slide into those DM’s with confidence and poise (see above photo for inspiration).

5. Twitter

Like the age-old nursery rhyme says: “First comes Twitter, then comes Snapchat, then comes texting nudes to a complete and total stranger.” Patty-cake to that one, kiddos. No but seriously, I’ve never met anyone through Twitter. What I have met is people living in other cities who I will awkwardly DM if I ever visit their city. 

4. Art Opening

Look at that girl, staring thoughtfully at the crumpled piece of wet cardboard on the floor. So delicate. So pure. Quick, can you learn the words “postmodernity” and “materiality” fast enough to get her to fall in love with you? Good news: all of the girls here are queer. Bad news: every single one of them will splatter your heart like a Jackson Pollock.

3. A Bar

A classic that has stood the test of time. I have nothing bad to say about this opportunity except for consent is sexy and I believe in you.

2. Tinder

This one is great because you either talk to someone and go on a date or you don’t talk to someone and then go on a surprise date that can happen anywhere from the grocery store to the gynecologist, and starts with: “Hey, I’m Stephanie, we matched on Tinder and you didn’t respond.”

1. A-Camp

If The L Word opening song is the true measure of the way that we live, this is the only place where you can check all those verbs off your list. Breathing? So much it hurts. Cheating? If you mean cutting the dinner line to get food faster, sure. Kissing? I mean, maybe. I wouldn’t know from experience, per se, because I’m an extremely professional staff member who doesn’t kiss campers or staff members or literally everyone who expresses interest, but I’ve heard this is the Number One place for making out. Actually, meeting people here isn’t the problem — it’s deciding between the five soulmates you meet that’s hard.

I Don’t Know How To Make Friends: The Tinder Blues

When I first started this quest, there was one app I was hearing about above all others. Literally any time I brought up my “journey to healthy adult friendships via social media,” this was the chief advice: Get a Tinder account.

According to the Irish Independent, 150,000 Irish people use Tinder. Among my age group, it is more popular than OkCupid and Plentyoffish (although the Irish lesbians etc. I know have sworn by Plentyoffish as much more effective and active than OkCupid, a literal switcheroo from the American experience). Tinder has been accused of being the shallowest app of all time while also praised for solving a “problem of humanity.” Most of the women I know who use Tinder for dating say they wish it would die off already so some other, slightly less mediocre app would rise up and take its place. Once I was done with Tinder, I too wanted to be the one to pour the gasoline and drop the match. I’m sure there’s a deep and mournful irony there.

Tinder is considered a dating app. “Dating app” is a term that is very roughly applied in this case, like calling a chipmunk a “furry thing.” It’s technically correct, and no one can say that it isn’t a “furry thing,” but there’s a much more accurate term out there and it’s not “furry thing”.

Tinder was modeled off of Grindr. Grindr is an app designed specifically for gay men and the very specific world of gay male hookup culture. It is not really a dating app. It is an app for finding sex partners in your immediate area as soon as possible. That’s why it sorts based on location and proximity, and that’s why it’s based on appearance as opposed to, say, in depth questions about how many kids the users want and whether or not they believe in the death penalty. Using Grindr, which could not have been more specific to an already highly specific culture and community, as a model for your “straight people + friends” dating app is one of the most hapless decisions I have seen in startup world. I have Feelings with a capital F about this. I have ranted many a time about Tinder and the way it a) commandeered something quintessentially gay from gay culture and b) poorly applied that gay standard to a very not-gay audience with the flakiest possible results. I’m not saying this was the wrong move because of cultural appropriation or whatever. I’m saying this was the wrong move because you can’t take an apple with a complex history, complex social rules and really fucking specific needs and say oh, I bet I could grow a fucking orange that way. That ain’t how you get oranges, buddy!

And yet here I was, using Tinder to make friends. Maybe the logical place to start is at the bottom. Maybe I just want to get to the end of this series and be able to say, like Saint Drake, that though I started from the dredges of Tinder, I am here. Maybe here will be a very good place.

Tinder is not a very good place for making friends. Why everyone I encountered seemed to think this remains baffling. For those of you who recommended Tinder wholeheartedly, I no longer trust your advice on anything. I don’t think I even trust your broccoli salad recipe anymore. Like, this recipe calls for pine nuts, but I can’t tell if you want me to put pine nuts in there because they’re supposed to be there or because you want to set me up for utter failure.

Every step of creating a Tinder profile reminded me of why this was a horrible idea. 

First of all, I need to connect to my Facebook profile. This is because Tinder likes to tell you when you have shared interests with another person. These interests are generated from your Facebook likes. I don’t even know what my Facebook likes are. Considering I have had this profile since I was a senior in high school, I assume some of these likes include “It rough!! ;) ;)” and “The Numa Numa Song”. I also seem to have gotten some randomly generated spam likes for baby formula. That’s good — I need a best friend with as healthy an interest in baby formula as I have. 

Choosing profile pictures? My thought process went something like this: Great, now I gotta figure out which one of my photos make me look like a great person to befriend. Can’t choose all my hot profile pics, because that looks childish and conceited. Okay, maybe one hot pic. Let’s be honest, no one is gonna read the damn profile. They are gonna look through my pics and swipe right or left. Might as well look like I took a shower. This picture is a year old, is that okay? I was befriendable a year ago. Ugh, why am I doing this? This is such a shitty idea. I’m using the picture with my guns out. I’m doing it, damn it. Is that gonna make the gym bros befriend me? I hate gym bros. Oh my god, Kate, no gym bro is ever gonna swipe on you. Gym bros are not here to make friends, Kate. They’re here to smash. Get your shit together, Kate. Is four pictures too many? It would be weird to only have one picture. I have a lot of angles. I’m a multifaceted person, and I’m probably easier to befriend if I have multiple facets. This is already the most stressful thing I’ve done today.

My policy was to swipe right on everyone. This policy was changed slightly when my partner was over my shoulder and noticed her horrible ex on the app — I did swipe left on that one. Later she noticed someone who she sort of knew but who she knew hated her ex — swiped right. The enemy of my enemy is my (potential) friend.

I was set to girls only. I know, I know. I will be totally real with y’all: I am not interested in befriending whatever dudes are using Tinder. How many dudes on Tinder you think are there to platonically befriend a lesbian? Given their record as a group, I am much more content to befriend them in person over a period of time that allows me to find out whether or not they make shitty jokes about minorities and believe in the concept of friendzoning.

It felt very unnatural to communicate with people this way. Tinder offers you very little by way of interaction opportunities. You have two options: talk with the person in the iMessage style chat that appears when you both like each other, or meet up with them in person. Turns out that swiping right on everyone will give you a bajillion matches. Of those matches, I would say one third actually reached out and initiated a chat. Of those with whom I actually chatted, I would say one sixth proposed meeting up in person. Of those who proposed meeting up, I have met approximately zero of them. The conversation never got past, yeah, definitely, we should hang out. At the time of this article’s publication, I’ve got two people that I might meet up with at some point, maybe. What I know about them is how they look in four pictures and three of their Facebook likes.

Is this my own damn fault? Oh, for sure. I could have engaged these people in deep Tinder chats. We could have discussed shared interests and discovered new connections and texted long into the night until I knew for sure that we were going to hit it off as friends.

But Tinder fundamentally discourages this kind of connection-making. Tinder ends up like any other app you browse while waiting for the bus, and it knows it. Tinder doesn’t care what your level of commitment is, to relationships or to the app itself. If anything, it doesn’t seem to want you to take it very seriously. There’s game language scattered throughout — “play again” comes up, and if you upgrade, just like in Candy Crush, you get more matches. Grindr was for busting horniness. Tinder feels like it’s for busting boredom. In my house, my roommate sometimes asks if we want to “play Tinder” and swipe through her matches for her. After all, that same repetitive gesture, one anyone can do just as well on public transportation or a toilet, gets to be a chore. It’s something that you might have downloaded to procrastinate, but you’ll find yourself procrastinating from Tinder. 

I did use Tinder to get stories from other users about how new friendships and Tinder have overlapped for them. The huge majority of people I talked to said that they didn’t come on Tinder to make friends; if they’ve made friends on Tinder, it’s because they started dating or sleeping with the person, and it didn’t work out. Most of them said that these post-date-failure friends were more on the acquaintance to “a cool person I once hooked up with” scale of friendships. No one seemed to be finding their bosom buddies on this app. Exactly two different people told me they had used Tinder to source people for their art projects, and as a result they’d met interesting people who were “interesting to be around in a platonic way.”

Only one other person I talked to said she joined Tinder to make friends. She is an American traveling in Europe, and this is one of many methods she is trying to meet up with people and socialize on the fly. I was excited to meet someone who was in a similar boat, especially a person who is my age. I asked her how the whole making friends via apps was going. She said not too good. I said it would be cool to hang out while she was in Dublin. She said she was heading to Amsterdam in the morning.

A lot of these users who I heard from also wanted to add that they’d had horrible dates on Tinder, and if I was writing an article about Tinder horror stories, they’d love to contribute. None of this surprised me.

I started this journey thinking that it would be a struggle in part because I thought that making friends is so different from dating. I see now that I was very wrong in that assumption.

My roommate Emma and I had a conversation at a pub a while ago, the same weekend I was reaching the end of my patience with Tinder. Emma feels similarly, but she has been using the app to find dates. I was going off on a cider-soaked rant about how there is no substitute to meeting a real person in a real space. This rant was directed at her disappointment in online dating, and I was attempting, again, in a haze of fermented apples, to be supportive.

Approximately, the rant went something like this: “Tinder and all that just doesn’t work for us. Because, say, see that girl up at the bar? You could go up to her and make eye contact and right off the bat, you know whether or not you have chemistry. Because you were drawn to her and she holds your gaze and you know she’s drawn to you, too, and that’s it. Like there are a lot of people here tonight who are attractive. I acknowledge that there are a few people who are hot in a way that I find hot. But that doesn’t mean that I am drawn to any of them. I am a bad example, okay, but you know what I mean. There are some hot people here tonight, right? But you’re only drawn to one or two of them. And if you talked to them tonight, or even just made eye contact with them, you’d probably know if there was something there. You will never ever get that from some online profile or even chatting online. You have to physically be there with that person.”

That was not terribly coherent, but the takeaway is that the next morning, I remembered that conversation while opening up Tinder, and realized that I needed to take my own advice. Whenever I’ve made my closest friends, it didn’t happen because of a list of shared interests or the way we both dressed. It happened because of something inexplicable. We could just tell that we’d be friends. We had friend chemistry. 

I have not officially deleted Tinder from my iPad. Like I said, there are a few folks left who maybe, just maybe, I’ll meet up with in person. And if I meet up with them, I think we’ll know pretty immediately whether or not we have friend chemistry.

Tinder hasn’t got shit on friend chemistry. But maybe the next app will.

Tech Your Queer: Gaying Up Tinder And Other Things About Online Dating

Well queermos, it is time. It is time to talk about dating applications. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve talked a ton about various applications—She-Seek, for example. Or Tinder! Or Dattch! Or how about the entire series on OK Cupid? But technology is fast and different dating applications are springing up like crazy. Some are just for the queers, some aren’t. But those of us who are single are duty bound to at least try them all. But whhyyyy, you ask from your perch on your couch with your tofutti in hand and Netflix on your screen. I’m glad you asked—

Reasons Us Queermos Should Use Online Dating Apps

1. Sheer numbers. The reason dating apps work so well in cities is because of the sheer number of people using them. The reason Tinder shows us straight people (sometimes—and we’ll talk a bit about this later) might be because there aren’t enough queer ones nearby. Let’s change that! We deserve just as much as anyone else out there to take up space in these applications, even when they aren’t made specifically for our community. The more queermos we’ve got using the app, the more useful the app will be to us queermos. The more of our community that shows up, the more power we have to change the ways the apps are perceived and used—that means we can use these platforms to connect with our communities when it might be difficult to find our community entirely in meat-space.

2. To support apps that have us in mind. Using apps that are made for the lesbian/queer communities is just as important as using the ones that are made for everyone. When we use something made for us, we ensure its continued existence. We also signal to other people who might create something that the territory is active and that the effort and investment wouldn’t be wasted. Supporting apps like Dattch and Wing Ma’am is a great example of supporting apps that support us. And because we’ve done (and will continue to do) that, the ultra-queer Thurst is making its bid for funding because they know the market exists.

 3. Sometimes they “work!” I put the term “work” in quotes because whether or not a dating app works for you is super subjective and is linked not at all to whether or not you have sex or a relationship or anything. These apps mean different things to different people. But in case you’re using the term “work” in a more traditional sense, I met my fiancée on OK Cupid.

4. And even when they don’t, you’re still out there meeting new people. Again, success looks different for different people. But even if you have an experience you deem a “fail,” there’s almost always something in it for you regardless. For a more in-depth discussion of this, here’s a piece from our Oh Gay Cupid series.

5. Because our spaces are disappearing. So perhaps the prevalence of online dating is contributing to the dearth of girl bars or lezzie parties, who can actually say? Perhaps it’s something entirely different. Regardless, our physical spaces are disappearing and creating new physical spaces for our community is sometimes cost or location prohibitive. Creating a queer online space using a free dating app, however, is…well…free (for the users of the app, at least). Making OKC, Tinder or Dattch into our online fantasy queer bar is our Lesbian Jesus-granted right. And while the state of the gay bar may be dismal, that doesn’t mean our dating or networking opportunities have to go the same way.

6. To submit to Swipe Right: Queers Appreciate Tinder. While this zine isn’t affiliated with Autostraddle, you might find some familiar faces editing—Anna Bongiovanni and Vanessa Friedman. And they’re looking for your contributions, funny or serious, visual or text-based, Tinder-positive or Tinder-negative (or related to all sorts of other online dating apps) to fill the pages of their latest project. Check out the Facebook page or Anna’s website for more details and submission ideas! The deadline is March 15, so y’all have got PLENTY of time to amass some wonderful (and terrible) Tinder experiences.

Tinder Tips

So now that I’ve convinced you to jump feet first into online dating (supposing of course that you haven’t already), how do we make apps like Tinder work for us. I sat down with Anna Bongiovanni, co-editor of Swipe Right, cartoonist behind Grease Bats here on Autostraddle and self-identifying Tinder-lover to talk tips and tricks. In their own words, here’s a few of their best practices to try:

• If someone even seems remotely interesting, probably you should wipe right and give it a go.
• Attempt to move the conversation offline and in person sooner than later. Or at LEAST exchange numbers and move it to text.
• Don’t assume someone is straight, because you wouldn’t want someone assuming that about you. No policing!
• Probably you should use that little space to write a sentence. I respond best to things that are interesting/funny. Notsomuch inspirational quotes or gibberish.
• If you are traveling, Tinder IS THE BEST. I’ve gotten lots of last minute dates this way! Also, even if I can’t go out with the people I match up with, I can ask them where the queer hotspot is for the night!
• People get burnt out on Tinder saying there’s no one new. Which is true! Our dating pool is small! We go out a lot and exhaust the dating scene! We are friends with all the queers in our neighborhood! My best advice would be to keep checking back. (Editors note: especially after reading this post—someone new may be trying Tinder RIGHT NOW). Who knows. Maybe it’ll keep being empty, but sometimes new people show up! I don’t understand the algorithim that makes this happen.

Still not sure which apps to dance with? Well, gentlequeers, I give you—

via Shutterstock

Every Single Article I Could Find On Autostraddle About Dating Online, Organized By App

OK Cupid

Oh Gay Cupid! No, This is How You Take A Holiday Profile Pic

Oh Gay Cupid! True Life: I’m an Equal Opportunity Makeout Artist

Oh Gay Cupid! Turning Dating Fails Into Life Wins

Oh Gay Cupid! You Met Online, And That’s OK

Oh Gay Cupid! Profiles Are the Window to the Soul, Or Something

Oh Gay Cupid! 21 Signs Your OkCupid Date Isn’t Going Well

OKCupid: We Read Your Profile

Pro-tip: you can filter for people who have an interest in Autostraddle.

Dattch

Dattch: New Lady-Dating App That Could Change Everything Launches in US

Wing Ma’am

Find Yourself a Wing Ma’am

Tinder

Everybody F*cking Hates Tinder And We Are All Going To Die Alone

Saturday Morning Cartoons: Swipe Right

And Other Theory/Roundups/Miscellany

Lesbians Wonder Why We Don’t Have Our Own Grindr, Must Settle For Words With Friends

New App Helps Overthinkers Get A Date

Reach Othrs on Your Phone: Why I Have a Screen of Gay Lady Dating Apps

Did I miss any? What are your best practices for Tinder? For other dating apps? Do you completely disagree with me? Do you have your own reasons for hitting the online datosphere that weren’t mentioned? Do you have feelings at all about this topic? Please tell us in the comments below!

Everybody F*cking Hates Tinder And We Are All Going To Die Alone

A couple of weeks ago, we — Brittani, Cara, Grace and I — received a terrifying demand from the Powers That Be (otherwise known as a polite email from Laneia) requesting single members of the team who might be interested in a unique challenge. We, the few, the proud, the unspoken-for, would boldly sign up for Tinder, the hot new dating app that all the kids were using, and learn about what such an app was like through a queer lens. I’d known a few straight women who swore by it, but from their stories it had always seemed sort of shallow — like a heterosexual version of Grindr, but without the oomph. I can’t say any of us were thrilled to sign up, but we knew what we had to do: we had to sign up for a dating app and prepare to meet a lot of ladies… for science.

Stef’s Story

Stef (Music Editor), 30, Los Angeles, CA

The others agreed to be a part of this Tinder project out of the goodness of their hearts, but for me it actually seemed to be a logical thing to do. I’d just moved to Los Angeles from New York City a few days prior, and I was brand new in a huge city filled with potential babes. I’ve been single for a couple of years, but I’m no stranger to online dating. I’ve met some really great people on OkCupid and was curious about what Tinder might look and feel like.

I learned the answer very quickly: Tinder feels shallow and ephemeral. Once you sign in, you’re swept into a veritable ocean of total strangers. The app attaches itself to your Facebook account and gathers profiles of people who presumably fall within your desired search parameters (mostly age and location). Although I had my app set to search for only women, a large percentage of my results were male, and I wasn’t sure if many of the women Tinder presented me with were actually interested in dating girls. When a profile comes up, you see only the picture, name and age of your potential match. You can swipe right to “like,” swipe left to reject, or if you’d like more information, you can click on the photo to view a brief profile. Each profile contains a short bio, any shared friends or interests you might have (based off your Facebook information), and usually a couple of extra photos. If you both “like” each other, you have the option to send a message, and what happens next is up to you.

There’s not much information to work with, so most of your reaction is based upon that one initial photo – and once you reject someone, there’s no way to reverse it. At times, I felt like I got trigger-happy clicking “nope” on so many faces, and I’d start to feel bad about myself. I found myself “liking” profiles of people who just seemed nice, purely out of solidarity. Instead of helping me meet interesting people and figure out my new west coast life, Tinder placed me in a downward spiral of Jewish guilt.

Although I date guys from time to time, I wasn’t super interested in meeting any off this app – but Tinder had other ideas, and continued to suggest them. After a couple of days, the only people I’d matched with were men I felt lukewarm about, and I was starting to doubt my ability to function in queer circles in Los Angeles. I tried changing my pictures around to photos where I was playing instruments or doing something that might spark a conversation with a cute new girl. Often after I’d clicked through just a few profiles, the app would inform me that there was nobody around, that I was all alone in this world, that I was going to die alone and I’d better get used to it.  Sometimes this would happen while I was sitting right next to Grace or Brittani, which was really confusing. I expanded my search parameters to include Brittani and Grace’s age range, but never found them (probably because we’re all Facebook friends). Grace even tried deleting me off Facebook, which didn’t help us find each other on Tinder, but did hurt my feelings.

And there never will be, sorry.

Learning the culture of a new city is always challenging, and I wondered how different Tinder might be if I could search for people with similar interests. When you walk into a room full of new people, it’s rare that you’ll meet even one person you share tons of common interests with, and Tinder was like an infinite room of totally random strangers. It could be days before I’d find a girl with an elaborate sleeve tattoo, or one who listened to Depeche Mode, or one who read the same kinds of morbid Russian novels I liked. The only way I could find these people was by rejecting dozens of others, and even though none of those people would ever know I’d placed an orange “NOPE” stamp across their foreheads, the action still took a toll on my heart every time. The one common interest I did seem to have with a lot of girls on Tinder was JWoww from Jersey Shore, and (while I unapologetically adore JWoww) that didn’t seem particularly encouraging as the basis for any kind of relationship.

At various times, all four of us encountered the insidious Tinder bot disguising itself as Zosia Mamet from HBO’S Girls, enthusiastically endorsing her own interview on Glamour Magazine’s website. I’d pay good money to have been a fly on the wall at whatever board meeting decided that Tinder was an appropriate social media marketing tool, and lament that Zosia and I will never meet and fall in love and feed each other rugelach by candlelight. The Zosia bot seemed like a rite of passage among the four of us, and none of us felt truly a part of the Tinder Project until each of us had been subjected to her wrath.

At long last, nearly a week into this experiment, I finally matched with an icy-looking blonde girl whose profile offered absolutely zero personal information. By this point, I was happy to match with a real live human being who wasn’t a robot or a bearded dude. She sent me a poorly spelled message, and when I didn’t respond immediately, she sent another, asking how my day was. This was my first actual correspondence with a girl on Tinder, and as I weighed my options, I received a notification that she’d sent a third message. By the time I’d opened the app to read it, she’d apparently swiped left and deleted herself from my matches. I’m not sure what the third message said, but it was very clear I’d been dumped by someone I had never communicated with in my whole life.

This is what Tinder feels like

The next day, I struck veritable Tinder gold – I matched up with a guy who actually worked for Tinder. The engineer declined to let me use his name for this interview, but did answer some of my questions. Namely, I was concerned with why so many men and straight women were showing up in my search for only women interested in women – in fact, why had he showed up in the first place?  My new Tinder boyfriend’s answers did little to comfort me. He insisted that the legions of straight girls must have listed themselves as also seeking women, and that perhaps they just couldn’t read the profile settings properly.

As for the men, he explained that personally he’d been messing with his settings to test out a technical change, but theorized that the men showing up in my search had listed themselves as women seeking women in order to meet some crrraaaazy open-minded bisexual chicks such as myself. I can’t say I was convinced (that seemed awfully discouraging), but that (gross) explanation might have some merit. To test his hypothesis,  I changed my settings to male seeking male. I found one woman in maybe sixty men. My Tinder employee seemed to be right, and this realization made me feel especially icky about any of the other guys I’d matched with. For the first time in a long time, I found myself aching for that brilliant OKCupid setting that blocks straight people from viewing your profile.

Next: Cara