I have a complicated relationship with dating apps. Not unlike a terrible romantic relationship where you’re trapped in a vicious cycle of constantly breaking up then getting back together with someone, I’ve been on and off the apps ever since transitioning in 2017. I’m currently “on” with Hinge, Bumble, HER, and Lex, the latter two aimed specifically at queer people, but aside from the occasional match-turned-friend, I’ve had zero luck in finding a capital-r Romantic Relationship.
This has been my dating life for as long as I can remember:
I download some dating apps
I swipe for ages before getting a small handful of matches
1 in 10 of those matches actually messages back
1 of 5 of those conversations progress to the point where I get their actual phone number and we agree to meet up
100% of those meetups are not fun whatsoever
I meet someone in real life by pure chance
“oh thank god I can get off the apps”
I delete all the dating apps from my phone
We date for 3-5 months
We break up and I withdraw into melancholic solitude for 1-2 years
Repeat!
Dating apps aren’t really a “great” way to meet people, but they are still *a* way to meet people, and that’s what matters. Supposedly, more than a third of all relationships (and nearly two thirds of queer relationships) start online nowadays, which blows my mind considering the poor experiences I’ve had, but if you take a good hard look at our current age, it makes sense that this is the case.
Third spaces are dead. Our work lives are now our entire lives, particularly for those who have to take up second jobs in the evenings or work while they attend school to make ends meet. We live in a loneliness epidemic, due in large part to the isolating forces of neoliberal capitalism, whose ideology posits that we all must become bootstrapping individuals and that dependency makes you weak. Naturally, this degradation of the people’s social infrastructure has pushed us all online.
We’re also still very much living in a time when the nuclear family, a patriarchal and colonial technology that at best does not work for everyone and at worst actively marginalizes people, is the dominant cultural norm. The social pressure to ascend The Relationship Escalator—to find one (1) person who’s supposed to be Our Everything, isolate ourselves away as pairs instead of interdependent communities, get married, and ideally have 2.5 kids—still very much persists, but we are given less time and fewer tools to do so than ever. In our aforementioned work-filled lives, swiping left or right on pretty pictures is something we can do on the toilet or while standing in line for our morning coffee, so that’s the method that wins out. (And they say romance is dead.)
Recently, some people have been trying to break this mold, doing the admirable work of attempting different relationship structures. Polyamorous people regularly critique our current ways of living life as well as our current legal system, including but not limited to:
Marriage as a tool of patriarchy/controlling women
Marriage law marginalizing the disabled
Marriage being one of the only mechanisms by which immigrants can legally move to the U.S., which results in violence against those immigrants, especially those who are women and/or queer
The wedding industrial complex (and my god why do weddings cost $40,000+???)
“Single” people being medically worse off than monogamously coupled people
More importantly, however, they’re experimenting with less hierarchical ways of viewing relationships. From “thruples” to “solo poly” to polycules spanning half the town of Northampton, MA, to just hooking up with whoever, more and more people are living life in defiance of our current cultural norms, embodying values of sexual liberation and non-hierarchical thinking. Even the monogamous can learn from these styles: after all, having one person separate from and above all the other people in your life leads to less satisfying non-romantic relationships and, potentially, more toxic romantic relationships. You know how some people get into relationships and then suddenly you never hear from them again? That isolation from one’s support network—the crucial non-rose-tinted friends who meet you privately to say “hey, this thing Johnny said to you at the party the other day was kinda demeaning, everything alright with you two?”—is how a lot of abuse takes place unnoticed. Trust me, I’ve seen it.
I am monogamous, but I believe in the cause of polyamory, the spirit of it. I want all my relationships, especially my platonic friendships, to be enriching. I want to live by values of interdependency, not relying on just one person for all of my emotional, physical, and spiritual needs. The bullet-pointed political projects above (abolishing borders, etc.) very much align with my values, too.
Unfortunately, not all monogamous people feel the same. In fact, a cursory look at some dating app profiles reveals a deep resentment towards polyamorous people that I feel needs addressing. The following are real posts I’ve found on dating apps in the past week:
“aren’t there any monogamous people left on here??”
“looking for SERIOUS connections, not interested in your poly bullshit”
“Does love still exist? Where are the other monogamous people also searching to settle down, be committed and love? Is anyone else tired of fwb and/or not interested in the polygamous life style?”
These cries are a sure sign that some people have gotten lost in the sauce. I think people have correctly identified a problem in modern dating, but putting the blame on the non-monogamous is misdiagnosing the problem. Let me explain (and FYI, this is about to get NSFW…)
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