I, like many other newly 18-year-olds, downloaded a dating app. While bad profiles and typo-laden cringe messages served as my entertainment for a while, I’ve realized that this app indicates a larger problem in my life. “Why are you putting yourself on blast like this?” my roommate questioned during the conception of this article. Well, Kylie, this needs to be done. How else will I see the error of my ways? I need to think about my problems, let them marinate, and then resolve them in an article that somehow inspires me to do better and shows others that they are not alone.
As many do, one 2 a.m. night, I sat cultivating pictures of myself to put on my Hinge profile. I went back and forth about which photos represented me best, and what types of people each picture would attract. I expertly crafted my prompts, rubbing my hands together in the dark room, the bright phone screen illuminating my face, like a villain that figured out their nemesis’ weakness. By this, I mean it was actually atrocious. I am unhinged on Hinge.
For reference, the prompt was “Choose our first date,” and my response was: “1. Playing Papa’s Cupcakeria, 2. Playing Papa’s Freezeria, 3. Yeah that’s it. Those are the only good Papa’s games. Debate me, I dare you dawg.” Somehow, this didn’t deter a few brave souls, and I started talking to people.
After a few dry conversations, I realized that I actually kind of hate talking to people. At this moment in time I have 27 unopened iMessages, 19 Snaps, and 21 Instagram DMs. So, I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to open another app where I’d have to actively meet new people. Why was I doing this?
In the past, I had really quickly jumped into relationships without the foundation needed to not have them end in less than a month. I’ve deduced that I really do use relationships as a coping mechanism for my life. Like my roommate says (can you believe that we were randomly assigned?), my willingness to get into relationships quickly is due to my impulsivity and desire to escape my own problems with the introduction of another person. Hearing it all splayed out like that to me really made me see things clearly.
While I feel like I’m not qualified to speak on self-growth, I know I am simply because, like everyone, I’ve grown as a person. I realized that real growth, while it can be alongside someone else, needs to come from me. Yes, downloading an app like Hinge is harmless for most people, but for me, it continues the constant cycle of feeling that I need someone to fill a hole in my life. I get overly attached, the relationship becomes toxic or sour, then I feel horrible and start looking for something or someone else to fill the new void I created.
And I didn’t even mention how awkward it is to meet people in real life and then explain that you met off Hinge. That feeling of embarrassment is actually so strong that if bottled up, it could kill a grown man. I’ve met multiple people on Hinge that attended Stevens and I just feel like there’s no possibility for it to end well.
This semester, I had made a promise to work on myself more, but had still been passively using this app. I’ve been doing a lot of reflection on what I want out of relationships in general, and it’s not what I was doing up until recently. The problem lies within myself, and as cheesy as it sounds, you really can’t have someone love you if you don’t even love yourself.
