What is something really depressing, but real

Dating on Tinder after several years in a relationship

Nevertheless, in the past year, thanks to Tinder, I also learned a lot about real life that would have remained forever hidden from me in my relationship:

Lesson 1: If you're over 18, most men can't do much with your brief description of canned beer, currywurst with fries, and comics. Get real hobbies. At least for Tinder.

Lesson 2: Add Netflix. Then everyone thinks that you mean Netflix and Chill and points them out to you - but only after it has been matched. Clever move.

Lesson 3: Stepping out of my bladder was very interesting - also because you get to know people who you would probably have dumped in a bar very quickly. I wrote with a man for a few days before realizing that he is not sarcastic, but a Nazi. Well. Had done that too.

In general: To determine whether you have a similar sense of humor, you need a maximum of five minutes in real life - on Tinder a lot of attempts and patience and the belief that more googling could show that he did a Simpsons joke after all. Also an interesting reality check: Suddenly Simpson jokes no longer arrive. But I never wanted to know any of that.

A relationship is like an organic farm out of a picture book: you don't have to worry about anything. And then the gate flies open

I also never wanted to see how quickly men can become obscene for no reason, how fix bra sizes are checked, sexual practices are compared, or wild insinuations begin. You can do everything great if it's bilateral, but many users don't even wait for that.

My relationship cocoon had saved me from just such nonsense over the past few years. A relationship is like an organic farm out of a picture book: You lie around, eat, are taken care of and don't have to worry about anything. And then the gate flies open. You collect yourself, want to see what's out there and see: a hectic fattening operation. This is how Tinder felt to me a lot. As if everyone were hungry, but would not look for a spot and then graze happily, but all eat from the same trough, regardless of what is poured into it.

Of course, it's similar in a club, when the lights come on slowly and for everyone who really doesn't want to go home alone, the chair dance begins. But even there you say hello to yourself at some point. Without an app in between, without anything in between - except maybe schnapps breath. On Tinder, hello is just hello and as creative and lovable as a letter from the garbage disposal. And you sacrifice time for that. A lot. Super.

Everything I really like about myself, on the other hand, is difficult to translate to Tinder. So of course you can use Paint to paint speech bubbles in your profile picture, quote Adorno in it or whatever that pushes your inner values ​​outwards. But trust me: the people on Tinder don't appreciate that anyway. The only thing left for you to do is for the handful of similarly ticking users to see you and find you pretty. Good luck.

By the way, I'm back in a relationship now. With someone I met on Tinder. But I still don't fully understand how that worked. Just this much: His song selection was extremely good and had nothing to do with Imagine Dragons.

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