I had high hopes of making a good fist of utilising Tinder to its full potential in my month spent in London. The reality was though that my phone broke and my backup phone – a Nokia 5210 – couldn’t get Tinder. I sheepishly purchased a new phone and returned to Tinder after departing London. Yet, to my horror, I discovered that Tinder had had a small revolution and become too big for its own good in my absence.
I found the wonderful thing about Tinder to be its simplicity. Are you interested in one another? Yes? Excellent. Then have a chat and see how things go. Tinder’s website-based rivals, such as Match, might complicate matters by allowing you to see who has viewed your profile and add the complicated politics of winks to proceedings, which holds the danger of making the whole process over-politicised and more arduous. Tinder thrived in its simplicity and was thus a fun breath of fresh air.
Not any more. The beginning of the end has arrived for Tinder as a simple and light-hearted piece of fun. There are now Tinder ‘Moments’, which are a way of sharing photographic updates with all of your matches.
Tinder’s long-term goal seems to be to make itself an interactive social network for single people, where they can share and like each other’s updates of single life. I, for one, don’t even like sharing things on a public site with people I’m comfortable with and have sometimes known for years, and so scarcely even post updates on Facebook. Why, then, would I share updates about my life with people I have never met and am trying not to humiliate myself in front of? By over-complicating matters, Tinder has lost its appeal to me as a fun condiment to a happy life of being single, and I’m taking an indefinite sabbatical from it.
Tinder has, in this one move, gone from being fun and light-hearted to being even more terrifying than normal online dating. Furthermore, it seems to be a terrifying form of online dating that has become the norm for young, single people. When I first took to Tinder, it was a relatively niche thing, yet now it seems pretty much every young person has committed themselves to Tinder and its nihilistic outlook on being single.
I fear for those who are recently single and have taken to Tinder assuming it is the only option for single people: it can make being single seem much more terrifying and burdensome than it should be. I find myself just wanting to tell these people that it doesn’t have to be this way! That is why I’m writing this call to arms. If you are recently single, don’t accept Tinder, accept happiness. Give Tinder a look-in for sure, but be open-minded and conscious of the wide range of ways to happiness and fulfilment for a young and single person. It really doesn’t have to be this way.