JUST PUBLISHED: I Tried Tinder for a Month — Here’s What I Found

I treated Tinder like an experiment. One month, no expectations. I met the weirdos, the gentlemen, the hot, the cold. Some nights were eye-rolls, some were lessons, and one man even invited me to join his WhatsApp group — but we’ll get to that.

Part 1: The Line-Up

The WhatsApp Casanova

He asked me, “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

I said yes. He immediately replied, “Ok, we’re meeting at 7pm at this restaurant. It’s convenient for you.”

Finally — a man who takes charge. Most guys hit you with, “I don’t know, what do you want to do?” I love a decisive man who knows what they want.

When I arrived, he was already there, stood to hug me, and pulled out my chair. Old-school manners. He even said he shows up early to scout the best table. So far, so good.

Then came his worldview: monogamy was unnatural. He had four women on rotation, a dream of fathering children in every country, and a master plan to manage all the women and kids in one big WhatsApp group. His father had seven wives, his grandfather the same. He didn’t mind if his partners had others too — in fact, he complained about the stress of helping his last girlfriend find a blonde, blue-eyed fling to keep her happy.

To his credit, he was honest. I found his perspective fascinating — people are wired differently. He praised my intelligence, told me he wanted something casual, then politely pulled a condom out at the dinner table.

A man who asks for sex with manners. In a world full of dodging, flaking, and breadcrumbing, I admired his open communication. I was even tempted to see him again.

But no — I wasn’t about to join the group chat.

The Pro Fighter with Depression

He was handsome, successful… and auditioning for the saddest podcast alive. For two straight hours, he told me about his depression, crying spells, and therapy.

I’m all for vulnerability — I’ve got anxiety myself — but he didn’t ask me a single question. It wasn’t a date. I was his unlicensed therapist.

The Rapey Vibes Guy

Let’s not discuss that one.

The Entitled Ones

Ah, the men who think sex is the natural reward for showing up to dinner. They sulk when you don’t deliver, as if intimacy is a complimentary gift with purchase.

If you liked me on the first day, you should still like me on the second. Attraction isn’t Amazon Prime — it doesn’t expire overnight.

The Guy Who Asked for Phone Sex

I asked him to say something romantic in Swedish. Translation: “My romance is a bit dirtier — what about phone sex?” So much for Nordic poetry.

Somehow, we moved past it. I sent him a gym video; he fired back with a naked bed video. When I didn’t reply, he sent two grovelling video messages about how he was really after “depth and connection.” Right.

Weirdly enough, we became friends. We went on a two-hour walk, had a big deep-and-meaningful, and realised we had a lot in common. But his opening move? I still roast him about the naked bed video and phone sex request every time we speak.

The One Who Restored My Faith

Not all was bleak. One man showed up with Turkish salep because I’d mentioned my obsession, plus a rose. He didn’t push, didn’t hover, didn’t expect. He said he was happy to just sit and have a moment with me.

Proof that chivalry exists, even on Tinder. And that sometimes, bare minimum feels like a miracle.

The Hot and Cold Brigade

Warm and flirty one minute, cold and gone the next.

I even caught feelings for one. He had flashes of sweetness — moments where he’d say, “You can tell me anything.” Most of the time, though, he had cheeky banter and charisma so strong I forgot my own name. I left our date flustered. He’d probably be incredible in bed.

Then came the slow replies. The silence when it mattered. The sudden Houdini act.

That’s the cruel trick of Tinder: the app hands you a smorgasbord of people, but it also makes human connection disposable. There’s no room for feelings on an app like Tinder. Swipe, ghost, repeat.

Part 2: The Observations

The Hotel-Room Invitations

Too many to count. Men sliding in with, “Let’s meet in my hotel room” as their first suggestion.

I got the line so often, I copy-pasted the same reply:

“I don’t just wander into random bedrooms, sir.”

My Instant Unmatch Material

Some men open with a lazy “hey.” That’s it. One syllable. Zero effort.

I’d fire back with:

• “Did you use ChatGPT to come up with that masterpiece?”
• “Is that your signature move, or do I get the premium package now?”
• “Hey, now let’s see if you can hold a conversation.”
• “Wow, Shakespeare could never.”

Cue instant unmatches. Apparently not everyone appreciates my jokes.

The Red Flags

• Unmatching right after moving to WhatsApp or Instagram. They’re juggling too many women and want fewer receipts. High-value guys won’t care if the chat’s still there. It’s how you met.
• The lazy “hey” or “wyd” — again. Boys, please.
• And the big one: most conversations die within 48 hours. If it lasts longer, you may have accidentally struck gold — or at least found someone with an attention span.

So, Was Tinder Worth It?

Most people are on Tinder for dopamine hits — the constant swiping, the thrill of a match, the ego boost of a new face on the screen. You can spot the jugglers instantly: they forget details, recycle flirty lines, and breadcrumb you for ego and validation.

I went in with genuine intentions. When I liked someone enough, I stopped talking to other guys. Not everyone plays it that way. But I did learn the value of boundaries — setting them clearly, instead of hoping people “get it.” Now the door stays slightly open: they can either step through or self-eliminate. Either way, I don’t waste time wondering.

Eventually, I deleted the app. The men were giving me headaches.

But then again…I got accepted onto Raya, the dating app for celebrities.

At least if I get ghosted there, I can say it was by someone with a blue tick.