This is a story of Tinder Boy Meets Tinder Girl.
It was the late Spring of 2015. The air was warm, and you could feel summer creeping into the lazy breezes and sun-stretched afternoons. I was at my highest and lowest. Highest, for I had been accepted into a prestigious and competitive education graduate program and teacher training residency, had quit my job of 5 years that brought me considerable frustrations, and was in a new apartment. Lowest, because I was in that apartment after almost 10 months of displacement and discomfort following a house fire where I lost everything, was just reeling from a 6 year relationship ending, and had just been dumped by my rebound.
And there you were, Tinder. Right when I needed you, the very idea of you spread through my brain and allowed me to come to you for the services you offer. I was lonely, but not brazen enough to take myself out to a bar and hit on strangers. I wanted connection, but all of my friends lacked single male friends. I needed reassurance and attention, and was just downright ready to flirt. I downloaded you, clicked the little white flame, and created my profile.
I am shocked, Tinder, that I did not have callouses on my thumbs from the constant, addictive swiping. Sure, people can say that you’re shallow, or materialistic, but guess what? Humans are visual, and we DO judge who were are attracted to based on looks even before we get to know them. So, you allowed me to shuffle through pictures of men in Chicago and be a shallow, animalistic, single, 28-year-old woman. It was right what I needed right when I needed it.
I encountered men that ranged from kind of sad (shout out to you, Recently Divorced Dad who still lived with his ex-wife and wanted to make her jealous with me), to desperate (shout out to YOU, Scottish Dude on a travel Visa who needed to get married to stay in America) to pretty gross (shout out to YOU, Guy From Las Vegas on a layover at O’Hare). I went on one date with a guy who I talked to via text for about a week. His name was Eric, and I was impressed because he called me and actually talked to me on the phone. There were immediate red flags on our date, such as him telling me he was colorblind but then identifying many colors of objects around the bar, or stating that if I were his, he would make me sell all my possessions so I had no memories associated with anyone but him. The red flags quickly turned black and essentially went up in flames when he continuously bought me drinks and said he “just wanted to get me drunk enough to fuck him.” Bye, Eric.
Had I turned my back on you then, Tinder, I would have lost out on meeting the love of my life. And this is why, Tinder, I must thank you. You are not merely a vapid, silly, hook-up site. You somehow, by some chance, by some mystic coincidental swiping on both sides, led me to meeting Kurt.
Kurt and I texted for weeks before meeting face to face. We would ask each other Random Questions, RQ’s, we called them, and slowly got to know each other well enough to know we would enjoy meeting face to face. We eventually went on a first date at Lost Lake, a tiki bar in our neighborhood. Taking a gamble and figuring “why not?” after my bad experience with Eric, I brought along some firecracker poppers in my purse. When the time felt right, I whipped them out and told him I was “really feeling some sparks between us.” He didn’t run. He laughed. Be it out of pity or genuine humor, who cares? He was nice. I went into the bathroom and texted my friend Brett that he was “too good looking for me, and far too nice and normal.” But still, we stayed. We stayed for hours, talking, laughing, drinking tropical cocktails out of ceramic parrots. He walked me back to my apartment in the rain, and I asked him if he wanted to listen to a record. We put on Arcade Fire’s “Funeral.”
That night changed everything. Kurt was in portfolio school and I was starting grad school, but we decided we would continue talking and spending what little free time we had over that next year around one another. We weren’t “official,” and school had to come first, but we spent Fridays and Saturdays together. I met his friends, which was also life changing, and within mere weeks found myself surrounded by much more positive, funny, kind, fun people than I had previously known. You see, Tinder, you led me to not only find the love of my life and my now closest friends, but you allowed me to see what and who I was worthy of surrounding myself with. I deserved far better than I had, and was suddenly able to swipe right into that better life.
At a wedding in the middle of nowhere in Michigan, three months after we met face to face, Kurt asked me to be his girlfriend. A year and 9 months after that, we moved in together. And 13 months after that, last Friday evening, listening to that very same Arcade Fire album, asking the same sorts of Random Questions we had built a connection on three years earlier, he posed the ultimate RQ: he asked me to marry him.
And so, Tinder, I am writing this letter to you to thank you. You get a bad rap sometimes, but you were there for me when I needed you, you led me away from bad people, helped me wade through some other random crazies, and eventually led me here, to this most beautiful time I have ever experienced: preparing to marry my best friend. I wouldn’t be here without you, Tinder.