Twenty something dating a forty something
That's the beauty of Tinder, and the world; there are lots of different kinds of people for everyone.
But for me, that became: anyone whose first profile photo was of them holding a beer; anyone whose first profile photo was of them shirtless in an upside-down yoga pose (granted, this might be an L. thing); anyone who seemed deeply unenthusiastic about their career (too old for this); anyone who lived in Orange County (too far and too suburban); anyone who had a picture of themselves proudly holding a large fish they had caught.
Tinder doesn't get rid of those steps, and it's unrealistic to think that it would. Finkel, who recently defended Tinder as "the best option available now" for "open-minded singles ...
Or if I went a couple of days without a match, I despaired: Was it possible I had exhausted the entire population of age-appropriate men in Los Angeles, and none of them was interested in me? I started taking my phone to bed with me, which had been a longtime taboo, so that I could swipe, swipe, swipe late into the night. When it started feeling like it was taking over my life, I deleted it from my phone, took a break of a few days or a few weeks, and started again.
My profile stayed essentially unchanged over the year or so I was on and off Tinder, and everything I wrote on it was true.
So I was also very conscious of wanting to communicate that I wanted a relationship without explicitly coming out and saying it in the profile, which seemed like a bit much for an opening gambit.
But while my profile stayed mostly the same, my experience on Tinder shifted each time I left and got back on, as though the breaks I took were also opportunities for the app itself to catch up with me.