It didn’t really occur to me just how obsessed with are, as a society, with the idea of love, being loved and being in love. Earlier this year, I became single for the first time in two and a half years, and suddenly, I felt my worth being diminished by 79% (a very accurate and scientific guestimation). I wasn’t part of a couple anymore, so I was less valuable, less desirable, and less interesting.
I’m back to regale you with more tales of Tinder from my single life, after telling you about the time I regretfully ghosted someone.
As summer of 2015 approached, almost a year to the date of the ghosting incident, I redownloaded Tinder. I don’t know what it is about summertime and me getting onto that ghastly app. Tinder was just a game to me at this point; I was beyond taking anything seriously. I had put in my bio something like “Attitude like Kanye, feelings like Drake”, hand-picked some of my best selfies and threw in a picture from a few Halloweens ago to show that I had a sense of humour.
The summer of 2014 was an interesting time. I had just finished uni for good, and left a job I wasn’t particularly fussed about. Well, I say left, I was more pushed out of the door, after they conveniently decided to downsize two months after hiring me. But I guess that’s the nature of sales jobs, one day you’re in, the next you’re out. Anyway.
I still had a large chuck of the summer ahead of me, and when I wasn’t searching and attending interviews for jobs that I actually wanted, I had a lot of time to kill. And how else does a millennial kill time, but browse on Tinder? It’s not that I was particularly interested in meeting anyone… but I was looking for ways to pass the time.