The Process Of Being Selective

9 min read
16 Sep 2016
9 min read
1201 words
Compared to the high optimism I felt about Tinder in the beginning, now I am finding myself in conflict with the app
While bemoaning the shift away from positive memories, I tried to figure out when and where swiping and chatting started becoming tedious. It took days of pondering, but I did come to understand why I wasn’t enjoying myself as much—while on a mission to explore as much as possible about Tinder-landia, I was side tracked into stories, statistics and social revelations. The process had let me astray and away from people I actually connected with.

So, naturally, how then could the fun continue? If I’m not actually attracted to my matches (physically or otherwise), if conversation is forced, and if clear communication is difficult, it’s easy to see why there might be less appeal. In finding myself disappointed with my matches, I realised my interactions were bordering on mean. Every comment I didn’t like, I confronted the man in question. Any statement that was irksome, I had a snarky retort.  And all the guys who didn’t amuse me anymore were victims of a massive un-matching spree. It didn’t even occur to me this would hurt any of their feelings. And if feelings were hurt, I didn’t really care.

I must confess, to a certain degree that made me feel heartless and like a bitch. Were these actions of rejection and dismissal to happen face-to-face, I have no doubt I would handle each case with more delicacy. However, in the online world, there is far more room to completely disregard another person when you suffer literally no consequences.  On an internet-based application, you can get away with behaviour like that. I did and others do too.  

Perhaps, one of the reasons why it was so easy to wave away the men is because, for a change, men are aplenty and matches are mostly left to a woman’s whims and wiles. Instead of me having to impress men with my beauty, my submissive nature, and my ability to roll round rotis, men would be in competition with each other over me. When I have nearly a 100 men to pick and choose from, it’s easy to become flippant and dismissive. With so many options, I can afford to let a match go if he fails to meet my expectations.

And that’s when a light bulb went off in my head. Maybe the problem wasn’t the men I was matching with…maybe the real issue behind my dissatisfaction was their inability to fulfill my expectations.  Within months of being a patron of Tinder, I had unknowingly come up with a list of requirements that applied to my matches, and I was judging them all based on a criteria they had absolutely no knowledge of.  

Of course I was disappointed, of course I was irritated, and of course, this could have also been my fault.  How can I expect any stranger to know what response I’m looking for, what type of humour I prefer, or what topics of discussion may attract or repel me? How can I blame someone else for failing me when they didn’t even know what test they were up against? It is because of this I’m tempted to say it’s not quite fair of me to pin all the blame on men for being as disappointing as they are. On Tinder, as in real life, we all come up short in some ways or another.

Keeping that in mind, I decided to change my attitude. With the few matches I had kept and the new matches I was making, I went on a mission to be more nice, to give the other person the benefit of the doubt, and to be less vicious in my judgements. Wouldn’t you know it, all of a sudden my time on Tinder improved significantly.  In allowing flexibility with my expectations, I was once again en route to more interesting conversations and better interactions with different people.

That being said, I do feel it’s of importance to draw a distinction between men and women and keeping our expectations realistic versus maintaining our standards. While I understand it is a challenge to score high on my checklist, there is a vast difference between being flexible and settling for something less. Even at an early age, I had people tell me I should lower my standards for men. Then, as now, this is something I refuse to do. If my options are between spinsterhood and men who still don’t understand equality between genders, I’ll take a lifetime alone please.

Because it is more difficult to find one of the few remaining “good men” that is no reason to choose a relationship with one of the bad eggs.

So how does one go about figuring what situation they’re in? How do you know when to be willing to change your ways and when to stand firm in what you’re seeking? To be honest, I don’t have a conclusive answer. What I do know is that there is a stark contrast between choosing guys who are more my cup of chiya and choosing people who may be intriguing but on a totally different wavelength.  At this point, my advice to you (and to myself!) is this: Be open to surprises, but still be selective.

The dater is an unmarried Nepali woman in her late 20s. With the help of her friends she enjoys experimenting in Nepali Society. To connect and converse, visit