Are we so afraid of having a negative experience that we're no longer in it for the experience at all? We were walking down a tree-lined street in Palo Alto. Eventually, that would lead to our breakup. But on that bluish Monday night on the Peninsula, summer was just beginning, and our meeting felt cosmic.
The difference between this experience and trying to compete with literal models in LA was striking, and I felt a rush of gratitude for this button in my pocket that seemed to conjure destiny. People come to the Bay Area from all over the world, and while no one can predict or control what happens next, you can at least meet them at the tap of a button.
Among my something young professional friends in the Bay Area, though, being pro-app feels unpopular. On a recent first app date, I said the best way to get an affordable pet sitter is to go off the apps. I meant Rover , but he made a joke about how everything is better off the apps. The latest backlash to dating apps is happening because people feel like they are getting lots of dates, but not necessarily with the right people.
We want the people we date to be vouched for. If you insist on staying on the apps, my friends say, you should know what you want and screen for it. I am the person who wastes their time. I know this is supposed to feel more romantic, and sometimes it does, but some part of me is also skeptical. Are we so afraid of having a negative experience that we are no longer in it for the experience at all? Are we really in a place where I am the hopeless romantic for defending the apps that became infamous for helping you order sex to your door as if it were a pizza?
But I also never would have had the chance to get close to someone with such dramatic differences. As I watched a war in the Middle East unfold just a few weeks after our breakup, I realized how profoundly that short relationship had changed my perspective.
