Hi Eva,
Do dating apps actually work? I’ve been on a lot of apps and never have any luck. Should I just give up on trying to find a date? I am 35 years old, and don’t really have a lot of friends.
Richard
Shall we put your question to one side for a second, and concentrate instead on… the friends thing? Because – and perhaps this is why you included this detail in a question about dating, beyond the practical “I don’t have anyone to introduce me to girls” implication, or even “I don’t have anyone to help me take a flattering photo, one in which I’m neither holding a fish nor leaning on a posh car” – it sounds like the problem might not just be dating apps, but your ability to connect with other people.
For some of us, bonding with people feels particularly tricky; if you think that’s always been an issue for you, it might be useful to talk to your GP and ask for an assessment which could flag a developmental condition. That would help you access support, or therapy, perhaps allowing you to navigate social environments with a bit more confidence.
But everyone has moments of difficulty connecting with strangers, and they’re often grounded in long-held anxieties about what these people will think of us. One way to overcome those anxieties is to switch the direction of your attention, away from yourself, and towards them. Go to the pub, go to a pottery class, join a sports team, go somewhere, anywhere, and when you meet a person you find interesting, try and get to know them. Ask questions, be curious, learn to listen to their replies, and then follow up with another question, and then another one, and then, then, listen to their replies to those, too. Inch by inch, you will move forward until you find you’re having a conversation. The next hurdle is to make a connection. This is trickier, as it requires a certain bravery to open up to somebody, to be vulnerable, and offer truths about how you feel and see the world, then to stick around when they do the same with you.
I’m not saying that by mastering this, this skill that some are born with and that others need to practice, this skill that often feels like sorcery, or “chemistry”, or luck, that you will have no need for dating apps. But once you’ve found some kind of comfortable way to talk to people, to befriend them and have a laugh with them, dating itself might feel a little more natural. Because that’s what you’ll be doing, isn’t it – befriending someone, having a laugh with them, reaching for a thread of connection. Question what you want from the apps. A partner? Sex? Romance? Excitement? Are you doing it because you think you should? I could go on, but it would be worth more if you worked out which questions itch the most.
And I should be clear, too; there are many people more literate and knowledgeable about the state of dating than me (I can highly recommend, for example, reading the advice of Shon Faye), as I met my boyfriend 20 years ago, back when we all had Nokias. I see female friends today, however, similarly bruised by their experiences of online hetero dating, with men being dismissive or aggressive or defensive or abusive – it can feel like a punishing pursuit, a full-time job with few perks. Male friends seem to have more fun, but all admit a degree of emotional fatigue, a sometimes deadening exhaustion with it all. The convenience of an app comes with unpleasantness: transactional language, ghosting, objectification, the feeling that you are disposable, invisible, needy, old.
Even without apps, dating is always complicated, messy, sticky, tough, because it involves two messy, sticky people, approaching each other warily, like bears. So I wonder if, instead of looking for a girlfriend online, you start somewhere the stakes feel lower. I think you should try going out into the world to try and make some friends.
