Online dating: The quest for intimacy in the online world

Dating apps have enveloped our generation. 

They suck users in with ego-boosting likes on hinge profiles, where you remain eternally sun kissed and stunning in the pictures from your girls holiday. You check your messages and matches, rotting away in bed, disheartened that the stunner of your dreams hasn’t popped onto your feed. You sigh, wondering if one-worded sexual compliments from unidentifiable strangers in group photos are really as good as it’s going to get. Your dream of bumping into and falling in love with Paul Mescal puts any potential matches to shame; but what is a girl to do when real life interaction and intimacy has started to feel unattainable.

The easiest place to find solace after a breakup or rejection is in the warm arms of the dating apps. The matches, messages and likes are quick validation, assuring us that we are attractive and appealing, when we can’t seem to muster up the love to tell ourselves. It doesn’t take long for the attention to become addictive, and when no one has liked your profile in a few days, we are left feeling as though we aren’t enough. When a match finally pings itself across your phone screen you allow the grip of validation to hook you. 

A huge issue with dating apps is that your profile is not representative of you. Instead, it is a contorted highlight reel of your life, designed to fit into a few prompts. What others see of you is a polished top trump card, and whilst this may make us feel confident, it acts as a barricade to intimacy. The bellow of your laugh and the passion you have for the things that you love are not what people see when they like your profile, and I worry that our interpretations of electronic gestures take us further and further away from genuine human connection. On top of this, the amount of choice that is available at your fingertips is so far from reality. We flick through profiles without so much as a second glance, discarding people at the first sight of something we don’t like about their physicality. Whilst it’s important to know what you’re looking for in a partner, I sometimes wonder if the array of choice leaves us always waiting for ‘the best’, running on a hamster wheel, determined to find a carbon copy of our ideal match. 

Dating apps make access to casual sex simple, and in my opinion, have been revolutionary for women’s ability to wield their sexual liberty. The freedom to choose to have sex with as many people as you please is not something that women should ever be shamed for, although I think it’s incredibly important that casual sex is engaged in for self-empowerment rather than in pursuit of validation or plastic intimacy. The danger of this never-ending access to casual sex is our desensitisation to the fact that these profiles belong to real people. The way that dating apps make us feel as though we’re playing a game encourages the idea that the people behind these profiles are disposable. My concern is that this further entrenches a harmful belief held by some, that users, specifically women, are sexual objects. Obviously, this is not an issue born out of dating apps but rather another factor that women have to navigate in the extensive web of misogyny that shrouds dating culture. The combination of not having to see someone in real life and having the freedom to message them whatever you want, leaves women open to experiencing gross sexual harassment and misconduct online, and constitutes one of the darkest parts of the world of dating. 

My biggest hope, especially for women who have been made to feel worthless and deflated after using dating apps, is that they never forget how truly lovable they are. Your dating profile doesn’t dictate your worth. Nobody can take that away from you.

How the Cold is Exposing our Romances as Simply Summer Flings

With “cuffing season” reaching its end, these colder months have brought me to the conclusion that the cold is making us re-evaluate how much we really like the people we are dating.

In summer, our view of the person we are dating is heightened by the romance and glamour of a hot sunny day that seems infinite. If we think of the kind of dates you go on in summer (picnics in the park, cycling, going to the beach, paddle boating), they are filled with the kind of thrill and adventure that the coldness of autumn and winter dates can’t
provide.

Mini skirts that bear all, unbuttoned shirts that teases the eye of some of his chest hair, tans and freckles; they’re exotic and free, and you want to be free with them. You share hearty laughs, sloppy kisses and have sweaty sex – they taste like an elixir of warm beer and cigarettes, but you think it’s sexy.

We rave to our friends about the perfect person we have found; they’re cool, they’re funny, they make you feel those tingly feelings. They’re a flame to a candle you think will never burn out. The days are longer and somehow being with them seems to make you feel like the noise of the real world has exhausted its self in to silence.


But why is this? It is scientifically proven that the Vitamin D from the sun makes you happier, which begs us to question if it is the person we’re dating that makes us so happy, or just the sun infused heady feeling we think they give us.

And so, as the water freezes over, we are no longer intoxicated by the romance and glamour of summer and we come to realise this ‘someone special’ was actually just another flavour of the month or a summer romance that should have ended there, instead of being dragged into autumn.

Suddenly, you hate smokers, or maybe you learn he’s got a porn addiction, that thing you thought was cute has now manifested itself in to the dreaded irreversible ick. Either way, you find yourself pretending to laugh at their jokes that once filled your heart with that feeling of forever. Our romanticised version of them has melted away, and (inevitably) our flame has burnt out.

Come autumn and winter, our desire for excitement and thrill is replaced by someone who can fulfil our desire for warmth and comfort, just in time for cuffing season.