Sally was once a serial monogamist. But when she signed up to Tinder, she found the world of casual hook-ups intoxicating Observer sex survey results in full: Britain loses its sexual swagger Tim Adams on why Britain is having less sex The 10 best works of erotic art. I'd never dabbled in casual sex until Tinder. I was a serial monogamist, moving from one long-term relationship to the next. I had friends who'd indulged in one-night stands and was probably guilty of judging them a little, of slut-shaming.
I saw the negatives β that merry-go-round of hook-ups and guys never calling again. Then, in February , my partner dumped me. We'd only been together eight months but I was serious, deeply in love, and seven months of celibacy followed. By summer, I needed something to take the pain away. Big loves don't come every day.
Instead of "boyfriend hunting", searching for an exact copy of my ex, why not get out there, enjoy dating, have a good laugh β and, if I felt a connection, some good sex too?
I could be married in five years and I'd never experimented before. This was my chance to see what all the fuss was about. There's a hierarchy of seriousness on the dating sites. At the top is something like Guardian Soulmates or Match β the ones you pay for. It's playful. You put in your pictures and add some information if you can be bothered. I started with one line "Single Canadian girl in London".
It's superficial, based purely on physical attraction, but that's what I was looking for. You go through what's there, if you see someone you like, you swipe right. If he swipes you too, it lights up like a game, then asks if you want to keep playing. My first Tinder date was with someone I'd seen before on OKCupid β the same faces crop up on all these sites.
