In , after becoming a single mother with only alternate weekends free to date, I joined Tinder, then OK Cupid, and even spent time on Bumble. I had lived in seven countries, given birth to my two sons, and gone through a difficult breakup, but at this point was happily settled as a writer working from my home in Spain. The downside was that meeting men in real life was highly unlikely.
I decided to give online dating another shot. I'd done it circa , had a lot of fun, and found both long-term romances and friendships. But, since then, the apps seemed to have changed the way dating worked.
Instead of spending plenty of time on dates, like in the past, I spent most of my time on the apps having boring conversations that led nowhere. It was bad but not β yet β quite enough to make me abandon the apps and choose celibacy. But then, I swiped on a truly interesting, attractive guy who lived a few minutes away.
On our first in-person date, he brought wine and cooked me dinner in my kitchen. I returned the favor the next time. He spontaneously told me how much he liked me and seemed genuine and affectionate. Until, after three dates in three weeks, he suddenly ghosted me completely, including pointedly turning in the opposite direction on the street whenever we ran into each other.
With no friends in common, nor real-life links, it was easy for him to cut me dead. Hurt and with my self-confidence knocked, I deleted all the apps soon after. If they were the only game in town, I wasn't playing. This is a big part of why Bumble's recent ad campaign got it so wrong. The campaign featured billboards with messages that included: "You know full well a vow of celibacy is not the answer.
