Thursday, February 19, 2015

If You’re Over 30 And Single, You Should Be Using Tinder

[ed. Um, No: "Because much of the criticism of Tinder seems to actually be, implicitly, a criticism of the machinations of dating, and the ways in which dating causes people to, sometimes, show their worst, judgmental, passive aggressive selves instead of their best selves." No, because you have to be on Facebook to start with, which is the real deal killer.]

Tinder is “stupid and harmful because it only makes romantic human connection harder.” It is also “a factory and you shouldn’t pretend it’s even vaguely romantic.” And let’s not forget that “the adult consequence of living with one’s decisions doesn’t really exist when the next best thing is only a swipe away.”

Most of the discussion around Tinder has focused on its core demographic: twentysomethings, gay and straight, in urban areas (New York and Los Angeles, where I live, are its two biggest markets), who seem to use Tinder to hook up, boost or masochistically deflate their ego, and/or issue sweeping, usually disparaging pronouncements about everyone they’ve ever encountered on it.

But I’ve now come to realize that even though all of the press around Tinder focuses on its popularity with twentysomethings, it’s actually the perfect app for someone in their thirties, or older, to find love. As people age, they naturally grow less inclined to seek out relationships that are more casual. (For one thing, it’s exhausting. After you turn 33 or so, staying out past 10 on a school night becomes much more rare.) Also, as we age, the pool of eligible people shrinks, and with it so do the number of opportunities to meet people in the ways people met people in their twenties (well, before Tinder existed): through friends, at parties, at bars, at work, in grad school, wherever. There’s something really comforting to know that, in fact, there are actually tons of people out there who are age-appropriate and are looking for the same thing you are.

Because much of the criticism of Tinder seems to actually be, implicitly, a criticism of the machinations of dating, and the ways in which dating causes people to, sometimes, show their worst, judgmental, passive aggressive selves instead of their best selves. My co-worker Tamerra recently asked me, “Do people think that the app will relieve people of the responsibility of being sincere, projecting themselves honestly, and communicating what they’re looking for in a relationship the same way they would IRL?” Certainly, Tinder seems to make it easier to not be vulnerable, to put out a bulletproof version of yourself. But Tinder doesn’t make it easier to fall in love just because it makes it easier to be exposed to hundreds, or thousands, of potential dates. To fall in love means you need to really know yourself, and be secure and happy enough that you want to share yourself with someone else, and to be vulnerable. Tinder doesn’t get rid of those steps, and it’s unrealistic to think that it would.

I agree with the psychology professor Eli J. Finkel, who recently defended Tinder as “the best option available now” for “open-minded singles … who would like to marry someday and want to enjoy dating in the meantime.” And I think that’s especially true if you are in your thirties and you are looking for a relationship, and you see dating as a means to that end. There are, of course, exceptions to every single rule, but I found that the people on Tinder in their thirties were, generally, more receptive to the idea of being in a relationship than you would expect. Including me.

by Doree Shafrir, Buzz Feed | Read more:
Image: Alice Mongkongllite / BuzzFeed