Dating Apps: A Full-Time Job You Didn’t Apply For

I don’t know anyone who loves being on dating apps. Most of us use them out of necessity, not excitement. We keep showing up, scrolling through profiles, and wondering if we’re being too picky or not picky enough. We tell ourselves it’s just part of modern dating, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t mess with us. If you’ve ever felt burned out, numb, or like you’re one “almost relationship” away from deleting the whole thing, then you get it.

Left. Left. Left. Right. Left. 

The endless swiping and feeling like there’s no point to it. I mean, how could it not? The apps are designed to be superficial. You’re looking at their best pictures (if they even put that much effort in), and you learn very little about them. It’s tiring to look at profile after profile and feel like no one is a good match for you. That swiping fatigue is very real.

I remember catching myself multiple times swiping left without even looking. I was just on autopilot. You can spend hours on these apps and feel like you’re getting nowhere. And truthfully, sometimes you are getting nowhere. Spending all day non-stop looking at these profiles can be a full-time job. It can feel like all you’re doing is swiping and swiping and swiping.

I timed it once. I spent just under two hours swiping and only liked one profile. That wasn’t because I was being picky, but because I wasn’t seeing any profiles that truly matched what I was looking for. They either didn’t match my family planning goals or didn’t want the same type of relationship I did, so I wasn’t going to waste anyone’s time by swiping right on them. 

You should put the phone down sometimes and stop swiping, but it’s easier said than done. These apps are addictive. Just like gambling, you lose your bet (swiped left) and you’re down, but eventually you get a small payout (a match), and that little bit of a dopamine hit keeps you coming back for more. You’re hoping to hit the big jackpot and feeling like you’re getting closer. Plus there’s the feeling of “if I walk away now then I might miss out” or “I’m just one swipe away from meeting someone”. So you burn yourself out.

But the fatigue doesn’t stop there. It continues once you actually match with someone and start talking. It’s hard to have a conversation that is interesting enough to hold both of your attention and theirs. You’re competing with every other conversation in their inbox. There’s only so many times you want to answer the question, “What do you do for fun?” But what else are they supposed to ask you? You’re just a stranger on a screen. 

The conversations start to blend together and you forget what you’ve already said. The dates kind of go the same way too. I mean, I’ve forgotten what I’ve asked or told people before, to the point of telling the same story to the same man more than once. My most embarrassing moment involving this was telling a story about something a guy said on our date….to the guy who said it to me. 

The problem is that those messages come from a real person (most of the time), but it doesn’t feel like it. You don’t know them and you barely know what they look like. This can cause two things to happen: 

The first is that you stop talking because it’s easy to walk away for no real reason. You never met them so no harm no foul. They don’t feel like a real person to you so it feels like it doesn’t matter. “You owe them nothing,” right? 

The second is, you build them up in your head and romanticize them. You end up attached before you even go on a date. They’re on pedestal that they will never be able to live up to. Either way, this isn’t fair to either of you. 

What happens when someone asks you what you want for dinner or you’re looking on Netflix for something to watch? Decision paralysis. You have so many options in front of you that it’s hard to commit to one. My old roommate used to start a movie and 15 minutes in would get bored and switch to the next. Dating apps are no different. 

You have so many profiles to swipe through on one app, and then you have other apps you can switch to and start the cycle again. There will be spells of talking to no one, followed by stretches where you’re talking to too many people at once. How do you decide who gets your energy? And what keeps you from moving your energy to the next person the moment it gets difficult or you get bored? 

Too many choices leads to poor decisions or no decisions at all. But you can’t be with someone if you don’t make a choice. Then there’s the fear of making the wrong choice because we’ve seen that play out too many times. 

I was talking to someone who’s a great guy. We were a month or so into dating and I knew he was probably still talking to other people. He went to my Hinge profile to show me something and that’s when I saw it. The number of women he was talking to was hurtful. They were all active conversations too. 

He was afraid to pick one and ultimately chose wrong.

I later found out that the girl he ended up dating had nothing in common with him and wanted to change who he was. He admitted he made the wrong choice and hurt people that could’ve been the right one. I’m not saying I was the right choice by any means, but we’ll never know.

But don’t think this is all our fault or that we’re in complete control over it. Because we’re not. The apps are designed to keep us on them. 

At the time of writing this, Match Group (which owns a large amount of dating apps) is actually being sued. Some say it’s because of their addictive design. Others say it’s because they con their users. Now, this doesn’t mean they’re guilty and this is a civil class-action suit, so no one knows where it’ll go. But it’s worth thinking about. The lawsuit alleges that the addictive nature of the apps is keeping people coming back, while the apps themselves pretend to be about connection. Hinge’s slogan, “Designed to be Deleted,”  doesn’t really hold up when you consider that every deletion is a lost customer.  

It sometimes feels like these apps prey on the desperate hope people feel even when the app repeatedly fails to deliver quality options. That’s what creates the pay-to-play mindset. The more invested you are, the more you’re likely to spend. How does that incentive them to help you find love? 

Everything is becoming subscription-based, and free features are being slowly taken away. Bumble used to allow users to go back to a profile they swiped left on three times a day. Now you have to pay for that. Hinge has what we all call “Rose Jail,” which is where they show you people they say are compatible with you, but you have to pay to interact with them. Sure, you can try your luck without paying. But the algorithm seems to hold you back. Developers deny it, but a lot of users report that you only get to see profiles that the algorithm deems “worthy” of your level. 

In my own dating life, there are profiles I’ve never seen. Friends show me people they’ve matched with who are in the same area and age range, and somehow, I’ve never come across their profiles. 

And don’t get me started on Hinge’s “Most Compatible.” Almost every time it was someone who has nothing in common with me. I’d select that I wanted a long-term relationship and their profile would say “short-term.” In what reality is that compatible? I also noticed the pattern that when I stopped using the app, I got more likes. I’d get more notifications. I’d have no conversations going on and be swiping daily, but the second I back off, I’d get like after like.

But many of us still feel locked into using these dating apps. Because if not there, then where? There’s a reason it all feels so discouraging, and it’s not because you’re broken or doing it wrong. Dating apps weren’t built to help you find love. They were built to keep you using them. That doesn’t mean it’s hopeless. But it does mean you’re swimming against a current that’s stronger than we like to admit. You’re allowed to feel tired. You’re allowed to take breaks. And you’re allowed to want real connection, even when the whole system makes it feel out of reach. You’re not the only one still trying. You’re not the only one still hoping.