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I've been to the circus called Tinder and now I'm just so tired
[Ed's note: #TinderTales is a weekly column that attempts to look at online dating. This week, our Tinderella is suffering from Tinder fatigue! Have a story to share? Email us at submissions@gmanews.tv]
About four years ago when Tinder was the new thing for singles of Manila, you couldn’t get me to agree to join the swiping action. Real talk? I thought it was just an app people used to get laid.
Yes, yes I was a snooty tight-assed Manila girl with Filipino values intact. It just didn’t sit well with me.
While my single (and horny) friends were raving and talking about it like a dirty little secret, I was reluctant to join the bandwagon for fear of getting labeled a slut. “What if other people find out I’m on the app?” I cringed at the thought of it.
And then a series of heartbreaks came to visit. I was losing all hope in gentlemankind. Manila’s eligible bachelors were slim to none, and I found Filipino men too sensitive. I was stuck and I felt my options getting less and less.
Until one evening when one of my girlfriends told me about her online dating life. She regaled me with her stories: the naughty chats, the sexting, the meet-ups, the one-night stands, the mind-blowing sex, all the positions.
I marveled at her bravery in meeting these guys and not giving a fuck about what others thought about her.
She showed me a whole new world worth exploring: meeting men outside my social circles, meeting men outside my age range, meeting foreign men with lots more interesting stories to tell, going on dates and seeing how guys switched on their magic for women, engaging in interesting conversation, the possibility of sex and romance, the possibly a relationship — which was the end-all and the be-all, at least for me.
I considered downloading the app, and told her. She quickly grabbed my phone and set up an account for me. We swiped in the restaurant and giggled at photos of random males. I got my ticket to the circus.
I didn’t touch the app much until I felt the need to get over an ex-boyfriend. Soon enough, I was meeting new men on a monthly basis. I still wasn’t too comfortable with the app; the first time I had sex with someone I met on Tinder, I asked the guy to stop midway because it just didn’t feel right. He stopped.
Luckily, I wasn’t raped and looking back, it was a risky and a real douche move on my part. I felt filthy and right there, I knew I had to learn to be more comfortable with my body, be smart, and if I was going to thrive in the Tinder game, I needed to keep my emotions in check.
Slowly I got used to it, seeing it more as a thrill of having crossed personal boundaries. It opened me up to new experiences and added to my “stories to tell in my old age”, which is why I liken it to a circus.
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It was whatever I wanted it to be: risky like acrobats on the trapeze, ridiculous like lions and elephants jumping thru fire, endearing like dwarves and clowns trying to earn your attention, and a great adrenaline rush that suspends reality.
I was making some good friends, traveling across oceans and syncing schedules for brief moments of romance. I was learning about the way men and women interact, and strengthening my threshold for what I could handle.
In all of this, I had hoped to end up in a relationship.
There was one that almost got there, except he was here for work and he needed to go back to wherever he came from.
I was disappointed that it didn’t work out; but I also knew there were literally lots of fish in the sea. Tinder made it easier to get over disappointment by finding someone else to pass the time with.
This whole “allow yourself to be surprised” demeanor I carried allowed me to deal with clowns. Or maybe I was the clown. It didn’t matter if I made good connections with everyone. What mattered was that I had a pool of men I could select from — to chat with, to go on dates with, to get my kilig from etc.
Sex? Let’s just say, I am proud of the fact that I gave most of them blue balls, prouder that I practically brought them to their knees begging for it. It kept them hanging and wanting me for months. Men were just another form of currency and I was willing to play.
Every time things fizzled out, I made a conscious effort dust myself off and try again. Like they say, if you don’t play, you can’t win.
It has been almost three years since that fateful night and guess what? I’m still here and I'm so tired. There are so many toads I've kissed hoping one of them would turn out to be the prince — my prince!
I’m tired and weary, and I feel like I have seen every trick in the book: ghosting, check. Mind games, check. Liars, check. Players, check. I have been wooed, romanced, kissed and fucked — literally and figuratively — in ways I never thought were possible. My heart has been broken one too many times.
The thing about the circus is, everybody has a good time. But if you are there too often — or for too long — it gets old and lame and you get tired.
I gave it my best shot and yet here I am three years later, still not in a relationship. I could say I’m smarter and tougher than I was before, but I’m also a wee bit tired of the game.
I still want a relationship, but who knows how that will happen.
I must say though, in all this playing, I have gained the best relationship with myself. — LA, GMA News
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