Welcome back to Soft Days Collective, Friend.
I feel like it has been forever since I actually sat down and wrote about something. In reality, it has been maybe two weeks, but honestly? That still feels like forever. Life has been doing its usual thing, moving a million miles an hour while somehow also feeling like nothing is happening at all.
So today, I want to take a little detour and talk about something I have been dipping my toes into that is both incredibly exciting and absolutely terrifying at the same time: dating. And not just dating—online dating apps.
So buckle up, because this post is probably going to make you laugh, cringe, question humanity, and possibly make you want to delete your dating apps along with me.
About a year ago, I decided I was finally ready to put myself out there and dip my toes into the world of dating. It wasn’t that I had never been interested in dating before. I just didn’t have the confidence in myself to really believe that I was worthy of being loved. If I was still learning how to love and accept myself, how could I possibly expect someone else to?
That was a hard realization to sit with, but eventually, something shifted. I started becoming more comfortable with who I am, with what I bring to the table, and with the fact that I don’t need to be a perfectly put-together human being before I am allowed to let someone into my life.
So, naturally, I downloaded a few dating apps.
And immediately discovered that online dating is…a lot.
There is something both exciting and horrifying about being given a tiny window into how complete strangers communicate with one another. You swipe, you match, you exchange a few messages, and suddenly you’re trying to figure out whether this person is actually interested in getting to know you or whether they just saw your pictures and skipped directly to the part where they want to know what you’re doing in bed.
As a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, I have the distinct pleasure of being hit on from pretty much every direction on the spectrum. I have never really felt the need to lean one way or another. I don’t particularly care what parts you have. I care about you. I care about whether we connect, whether we can laugh together, whether conversation feels easy, and whether I actually want to spend time with you.
Simple, right?
Apparently not.
When you’re new to navigating this particular world, it can be incredibly intimidating. Especially when you’re already someone who sometimes struggles to decipher social cues. Dating feels like being dropped onto a completely foreign planet and being expected to understand the culture, language, customs, and mating rituals without missing a beat.
And I’m doing all of this at the ripe old age of almost 30.
I’ve gone on a few dates. Nothing has stuck yet, but I’m okay with that. I’m looking for an actual connection. I want to get to know someone. I want to build a friendship and trust and eventually see if that turns into something more. I’m not interested in jumping into bed with someone just because we’re both bored on a Tuesday night.
And absolutely no judgment if that’s what someone else wants. Seriously. You do you! If you’re consenting adults and you’re being safe, have fun. Life is short.
But that isn’t what I’m looking for.
What I am discovering, as my online dating fuse gets shorter and shorter, is just how easily people seem to dehumanize someone they can’t physically see.
The number of times I’ve been sent an unsolicited nude is…something. The number of times a complete stranger has described, in impressively vivid detail, exactly what they would like to do to me is even more impressive.
Sir.
We have exchanged approximately three messages.
I don’t know your middle name.
I don’t know your favorite color.
I don’t even know if you put your shopping cart back at the grocery store.
And somehow we’re already discussing handcuffs?
Please.
And then there are the people who want to meet almost immediately. Two messages in and suddenly it’s, “So, when can I come over?”
Excuse me?
As a single woman, I’m not going anywhere with a complete stranger simply because we matched on an app. I need to talk to you. I need to get a feel for who you are. I need to decide whether I even want to meet you. And if I do, we’re meeting somewhere public.
Because I have absolutely no interest in becoming the subject of a 20/20 rerun.
Maybe people expect that by my age I’m supposed to be an experienced dater. Maybe they think I’m being too cautious. Maybe I’m a prude. Maybe I just have boundaries.
Honestly, I couldn’t tell you.
What I can tell you is that I’m not willing to jeopardize my safety, my comfort, or my morals just because someone else thinks I should move faster.
And I’m slowly learning that there is nothing wrong with that.
I’ve also found it surprisingly comforting to compare dating app experiences with my friends. Sometimes you start thinking you’re the only person experiencing something ridiculous, only to send a screenshot to a friend and hear, “OH MY GOD, SAME.”
There is something strangely comforting about knowing that other people are also navigating this bizarre little corner of adulthood. We’re all just out here trying to figure out how to meet people, communicate our boundaries, avoid walking red flags, and hopefully find someone who doesn’t immediately send us a picture of something we absolutely did not ask to see.
I don’t want to be alone forever.
But I also don’t want to settle just because I’m afraid of being alone.
Those are two very different things.
I know that I am a little unique. I know I need to take things slowly. I need time to feel comfortable with someone. I want to know who you are before I give you pieces of myself. I want the butterflies and the awkward first dates and the late-night conversations. I want to laugh until my stomach hurts. I want someone who is genuinely interested in me, not just what I look like or what I might be willing to do for them.
And I’m realizing that isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea.
That’s okay.
I’m also done feeling guilty for talking to multiple people while I’m dating. Until there is an actual conversation about exclusivity, I’m getting to know people. I’m figuring out who I click with and who I don’t. I’m not playing games or leading anyone on. I’m simply refusing to act like I’ve found my forever person after exchanging five messages and a meme.
I’m dating with the hope of finding my end game.
My person.
My best friend.
The person who makes ordinary Tuesday nights feel like something worth remembering.
So, no, I haven’t given up on dating.
I’m just getting pickier.
More cautious.
More confident in my boundaries.
And maybe—just maybe—I’m finally learning that finding someone doesn’t require me to lose myself in the process.
Now, if anyone out there is emotionally available, funny, kind, communicative, respects boundaries, enjoys a good adventure, and is willing to take things slow…
Someone wife me!
I’m tired of swiping. 😂