Tinder isn't the bypass to social anxiety

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“There’s plenty more fish in the sea”; the overused condolences anyone who has been rejected or dumped hears. Although, as difficult as holding the analogical fish is before it slips away, the hardest part is always catching it in the first place. So, if you can instantly throw a lure out to 75 million people globally, no wonder people turn to Tinder. This has a specific appeal to those with anxiety, which an estimated 12% of the UK population has. Vigorously going to varying social situations, in the hope of hitting it off with a stranger is especially difficult if you feel worried when talking to people, have low self-esteem in believing others may like you, and can have panic attacks resulting in leaving situations prematurely. Instead, all that can be replaced by the virtual catalogue of potential matches, where you can swipe to your heart’s content, and text your feelings rather than having to speak to them in a quivering, sweating mess. In fact, 50% of single people in the UK have only ever asked people out online. Although, this hailed fast pass to your desperations is not the answer to instant love people believe. Online dating, with its lack of meaningful connection, despite arguably being easier than face-to-face in the short term, is just as difficult as traditional methods and far harder in the long run for those with anxiety or not.

Tinder is the most popular dating app in the UK with its 5 million users (7% of the population). Launching in 2012, the app is now available in 190 countries, and records around 3.6 million matches every month. With the customisable preferences of orientation, age, and distance away from you (as well as extra perks if you are willing to pay the month fee for Tinder Plus, Tinder Gold or Tinder Platinum) and the simple swipe left for no, swipe right for yes interface, it seems like the easiest way to find a match. The 13.6% of connections on the app that lead to marriage reinforce that. But this easy deception leads to several flaws, and not just the obvious ones such as the bot scams, the sexual abuse, or the surprising fact 30% of active users on the app are already married. We will ignore on that and instead focus on the deceiving fact that is it a better method than in-person matchmaking.

Firstly, with any dating app, you must make a profile. Although, all the prompts and limitations straight away really does set you up for the stressful ordeal to come. Of course, some details are simple to write down, your age, where you live, what you do as a job (all easy enough to lie about just like real life). Although, when this opens up to the “passions” section, it is clear that this limitation in profile uniqueness is a massive downside. Whereas in real life you can mention what you like and don’t like, and expand on it easily as a conversation develops, on Tinder you have to select between 3 or 5 interests out of a pre-set of 144, that will be used to determine who you match with. These either end up being too vague, like “films”, “gaming” or “sports”, which must be followed up with a “What type?” question if you do match on that basis, or they are far too obscure.   What use does ‘Pimms’, ‘Vinyasa’ (flow yoga) or ‘90s Britpop’ have if your potential matches will be heavily limited. Despite the idea seeming okay on paper, the practice makes it stressful to choose what random items best fit you. Some might say stop crying your heart out over the masterplan Tinder has here, but even if you look half the world away how many people could really talk tonight that much about Oasis to make it a passion. Because if you couldn’t spot the five Oasis songs in that last sentence, I doubt you could. The other major limitation is the 500-character limit on your bio. Even though writing a whole autobiography is not needed, trying to think of something either funny and unique, or a good list of key information is difficult, hence why so many profiles are blank. Apart from that, the last customisation is between two and nine pictures, short videos or gifs that are the first thing people see when your profile appears. Even though this seems no different from choosing an outfit to go out normally, with varying photography skills, poses and filters, it is very easy to feel like you have low self-esteem, especially compared to the amount of other people’s filter naked torsos you end up seeing, which is damaging to your body image.

After a profile is made, you are on to the swiping stage. See somebody else’s profile who fits your orientation, your distance you are willing to travel, and age range, and decide based on their pictures and profile whether you like them (swipe right) or don’t (swipe left). The only way the other person knows what you chose is if you both swipe right, thus making you match. Although, due to the aforementioned limitations in profiles, your decisions always feel shallow and unemotional. The whole idea of falling in love with someone can literally only be based on whether you find them attractive, and they have a similar interest. No interesting quirks. No personality. No fun. With anxiety, you are caught in the morally ambiguity of whether you do be picky on a basic profile, and limit potential matches severely, or like as many people as you can, making you judge yourself as desperate. Either way, self-esteem will be crushed if the majority of people you like don’t like you back.

If by whatever luck you do end up matching, the real stress begins. Yes, the overthinking profiles, low self-esteem and moral ambiguity was barely the surface as now the first message must be sent. 9.8% of men think they should text first, and only 1.4% of women, so chances are, if you want something, you have to do it yourself. There is very little time to wait, as nobody want to reply to someone when they take two weeks to answer. Therefore, it must be quick, spontaneous and a masterpiece. It must be something that perfectly captures what you are on Tinder to do. Asking someone how they are is fine for friends, but for a relationship great comedy must be there, and for a hook-up, something a bit provocative. Most importantly, there is no second chances. Unlike in real life, you many bump into someone on several occasions, but in Tinder, if they do not reply that is over. Game, set and no match.

After that, if you end up meeting in person, it is just like any normal relationship. So why go through the faked ordeal of mass matchmaking when at the end, you still have to be yourself in person anyway? The same result can be achieved by becoming close friends with someone or meeting people on nights out. Yes, it's easier to use Tinder to ignite a spark, but if you just be yourself in real life, the fire is already inside you, and anxiety can’t extinguish that.