Hey, you ok?

Hey, did you swallow a magnet because you’re attractive?

… And here we are again, in the middle of the night. Texting with the boys after dark. I might actually adjust the lyrics of Taylor Swift’s All Too Well to suit the Tinder-dating disaster a bit better.

My mid-20s are almost over, and every year I can feel society’s pressure more and more. You’re not getting any younger. You’re not getting any prettier. Usually, I give zero f*cks about that. But after visiting my grandma, I felt a little unsettled — a little worried — for the first time.

“Katy, maybe it’s time to find someone normal.”

Huh? What does normal even mean? Did she mean someone from the neighbourhood, build a house, and have a couple of children? (No, thanks.)
Or did she simply mean someone with a basic ability to communicate?

Anyway, that’s how I found myself logging into Tinder. Again.
Yeah, definitely the ideal place to find a good-quality husband. Congratulations to those lucky enough never to have entered this digital circus.

My previous experiences made me think – what if I took all those first lines from guys and turned them into articles? Or better yet, what if I started using them in real life?

Imagine walking up to someone and saying, “I’d fck your brain out.”*

Perhaps the anonymity of the internet has made us forget that we’re speaking to another human being. Or maybe it’s just the male way of asserting power — a symptom of a still-patriarchal system that tells boys they should be proud of saying such things. The “boys will be boys” politics. You should be flattered, I said that to you:

You may wonder if all these messages were actually sent to me.
Yeah. They were.
And honestly, it’s just the tip of the iceberg.

This article isn’t meant to complain about how f*cked up our generation is. I just want to give you a small window into the online dating world — and maybe leave you with a few uncomfortable questions.

Why do we even have Tinder accounts?
Is it because we genuinely believe Mr Right is waiting for us there, or because we crave a little validation?
Are we really disgusted by those blunt messages, or somewhere deep down, do we feel a flicker of flattery after all?