Embarassed about online dating

Rated 4.12/5 based on 726 customer reviews

Like, people who follow meet each other on Tinder and live happy lives together? I've been single (by choice, not that it's anyone's beeswax) for four years now and have had nary a complaint. Problem being, if you want to ~mingle~ living in a big city, you pretty much have one viable option: The internet. The internet is open season for murderers, drug lords, and Nickelback listeners, and all of them have just as much access to OKCupid as I do. It makes me want to want to Google things like "citizen's arrest" every time I see yet another ex-frat guy posing with a freaking tiger. FEEL MORE SORRY FOR ME THAN YOU ALREADY DO.) So it's been approximately eight hundred years since the last time I even put myself in a flirt-worthy situation, let alone actually gone on a date with someone. I get excited when an app so much as asks me what my birthday is.

But at some point did society just decide it was unfeminist of me to say that I'm lonely, and I want someone to make grilled cheese with me and charitably laugh at my bad jokes? But this is the 2015 we live in, so here I go, internet. And as of yesterday, the true depth of my ridiculous paranoia has been revealed, through all of these stages of it I have already endured: I had a brief self-assessment wherein I tried to remember the last time I actually flirted with another human being, and I'm pretty sure accidentally grazing a stranger's butt with my backpack on the subway doesn't count. Hell yeah I'll fill out this questionnaire and reveal all my fragile hopes and dreams to the internet!

I’ll fart in public, for example, with a kind of wild abandon that would make even the most liberal children’s author blush ‘Everybody farts! ' Some people find it embarrassing that they had to try online dating as it suggests they weren't capable of finding someone on their own.' Harsh.

And now these total strangers want me to chat them back? But I know better than to put up my foxiest pic on a dating app, because A).

I have to remind myself every thirty seconds at the beginning of this journey across the world wide web that I am not the first person to online date.

In fact, I am so late to this party that I could physically call up a friend on a Razor flip phone and be all, "Wow, Uggs are SO COMFY, who knew?

My old school friends, the ones I’ve known for ten years, I reckon they’ve sussed us out. His old colleague who recently asked over dinner, with a sort of narrow look in his eyes, 'how did you guys meet again? No one gives a shit.' This was the most succinct, and true, response I could have imagined. Another Redditor pointed out (I was starting to feel like I was being counselled by a group of softly-spoken psychiatric professionals at this point): ' It's just one more opportunity to open an extra door that can provide you even more possibilities! The bar full of trendy wankers where my boyfriend and I pretend-met was definitely not a well of possibilities. We’re reserving our right to be embarrassed and to wish we weren’t part of an ever growing modern trend. We like to think of ourselves as an interesting couple, the kind of couple that knows about secret restaurants and puts cool screen prints on our walls and discusses arty films over craft beers and all the other wanky crap a couple living in Shoreditch does. I asked him about my hang ups - why do I feel embarrassed?

This got me thinking though - I don’t embarrass easily, why am I embarrassed by this in the first place? It’s like online dating is a less authentic way of meeting, but why do I think this even though it’s one of the most common ways people meet now?

Leave a Reply