Love Apptually: Getting back in the game of love with Tinder

Each week in “Love Apptually,” Daily Bruin staffers Nico Correia and Natalie Green will take turns attempting to find love in all of the wrong places: dating applications. To help thousands of loveless students, but mostly themselves, Correia and Green will test run and rate five dating apps over the course of one quarter.

I can make as many excuses as I want. I’m too busy, too independent but, most of all, too scared.

My first and only boyfriend was during my freshman year of high school and lasted about a month – he liked me a lot and I panicked and accidentally broke up with him over text.

After 21 years of singledom, I decided it’s time to stop my excuses, get over my fear of rejection and become the Carrie Bradshaw of our generation (I understand the issues with “Sex and the City,” but let me have my moment). I am self-empowered, self-actualized and self-confident, but I’ve come to the point in my life where I want someone to watch “Broad City” with.

Apparently, I can’t find that person without my phone.

However, dating apps exist as a compilation of things I’m not good at: technology, social media and non-face-to-face communication.

But it’s impossible to ignore that two years ago, Americans ages 18 to 24 used online dating sites and apps at an average rate of about 10 percent – the same as all other American adults – but that rate has now almost tripled.

Hoping to broaden my circle of potential romantic partners past my gay friends and friends with girlfriends, I began with one of the scariest apps of them of all with upward of 50 million users: Tinder.

None of my roommates were home and my friends were coming over in a few hours, so I seized my moment of freedom, put on the “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” Songza station (now called Google Play Music and therefore less enjoyable) and hit download.

I carefully selected five photos, highlighting both my breathtaking beauty and plentiful flaws. I made my bio as transparent as possible because who am I to break the hearts of Los Angeles men, ages 18 to 31 within a 15-mile radius? Then, I started swiping.

Tinder really is a game. For all of the times I guilt-tripped my sister with cliche rants against today’s appearance-obsessed society, my eyes glazed over as I swiped.

It was awful and incredible. An hour deep, I realized: I was swiping left for men too attractive as well as men not attractive enough. Saying no when they were too young or too old. Had too many selfies or too many group pictures. So who exactly was I swiping right for? A very small number who I pretended had a good sense of humor.

Every time a match struck, I was alerted with a ‘brring.’ Tinder asked me if I wanted to start a conversation or “keep playing.” Keep playing? What monsters, I thought, as I gloated over my desirability.

Then, it got worse. These men, who I’m sure are very nice and close with their mothers and sisters and have plenty of female friends, began messaging.

One tried to make a joke, followed up by “Lol sorry that was racist” and another asked me about kicking it the next day. The next day? My heart started racing, and I didn’t respond.

This is going to be a long quarter.

Next Thursday, read Daily Bruin staffer Nico Correia’s take on Tinder. Until then, what’s your favorite dating app? Email Green at [email protected].