30 Days of Playing the Field on Feeld

Peter McGraw of Solo fame categorizes four types of singles: 1) the “Someday.”  These folks are the classic “Someday my prince/princess will come”; 2) the “Just May.”  They want to “find their person,” but if it doesn’t happen, they’ll still continue to live their lives; 3) the “No Way.”  They have no interest in dating or partnership of any kind, either for now or forever; and 4) the “New Way,” who like dating and romance, but they don’t want to do what Amy Gahran refers to as “riding the relationship escalator.”  This concept refers to that prescribed series of steps a romance must take: dating, exclusivity, cohabitation, marriage, kids, white picket fence, etc.

I’ve always joked that I’m about 80% No Way and 20% New Way. Over the past year, I’ve wanted to give the “new way” style of dating a try.  I was in a lot of relationships and situationships and had a lot of flings throughout my 20s and 30s.  They never seemed to really take off.  As I’ve done a lot of reflecting, I’ve realized my heart was never really into making them “take off.”  I’ve had a couple of very meaningful short-term “situationships” and some longer-term ones that I felt obligated to guide toward the escalator.  My Soloesque thinking: instead of forcing myself to date according to the societal prescription, why not just date the way I have, but be more conscious and intentional about it?

I like to meet people organically, and I’m open to anything from FWBs (with emphasis on the “F”) to the type of relationship where we see each other once or twice a month.  And I’ve been on a few dates in the past year; I’m capable of being aesthetically attracted to another person, but oftentimes, when I converse with them, I lose that attraction, but I want to develop a friendship with that person.  I’d never been on an app before, and I always swore I’d never do them.  I’d been on websites like Match.com several years earlier.  I’d met some cool people and got into some relationships and situationships from there, but I found it to be a time suck.

But I figured it might be good to try an app just to get it out of my system.  The more mainstream apps like Tinder and Hinge seem to cater to people looking for the escalator, but I’d heard Feeld attracts those drawn to non-conventional options.  So I gave it a try.

I listened to the Solo episode on “Dating App Help (Hell)” where Peter and Jessalyn Dean advise on how to create a dating profile. I followed all of their suggestions: post pictures in different settings that reflect me (I had one of me in my workout gear, jogging; another was of me in a suit; another had me on a train, since I LOVE to travel by train); be upbeat and authentic (I did mention my identity as a cat Dad and my proclivity for laughing at my own jokes for extended periods of time).  I also mentioned I wasn’t looking to ride the escalator and that my primary partner was my work (both things are true).  And I informed all swipers I’d only be on for thirty days. 

My plan: only pay for the 30-day subscription.  This would allow me to “match” with unlimited people and send one “ping” (or message) per day. 

1. I’d swipe through fifty profiles each day (this takes a grand total of about four minutes). 
2. I’d read every single life through every single profile.  If a woman had no description or just one or two sentences on what she was looking for (“I’m looking for friends with benefits”), I’d swipe left.  If you can’t put any effort into your profile, then that doesn’t say much for how we’ll connect.
3. If I liked someone, I wouldn’t swipe it all until I got to fifty profiles.  Once I hit fifty, I’d look through the ones I like and narrow it down.  I would then send a message.
4. When writing, I’d always mention something I’d read in the profile.
5. I didn’t keep Feeld on my screen; I’d check it two or three times a day for updates.

The result: four matches, only one of which I swiped right on.  That person then exited the conversation.  The other three didn’t have anything interesting written on their profiles (one had nothing).  So, to quote Homer Simpson, “You tried your best, and you failed miserably.  The lesson is, never try.”

​My attitude really isn’t that fatalistic, but it may be accurate – at least, for me.  One thought I had was, “If someone responds, then I have to start committing time.”  And, much of the time, I didn’t like taking time from something else to devote to another person in that type of relationship.  So even though the experience wasn’t successful by conventional standards, I still learned something about myself and about the nature of dating.
That said, I can see why people can get hooked on dating apps.  Swiping can feel like dopamine.  And it can boost the ego to get “matched.”  There was a time when I would have “swiped right” just because you did, but that time has long since passed. 
To their credit, the owners have done their homework.  And they use it to get people to keep signing up, paying money, and swiping.  I always need these owners don’t want you to couple up, at least not for the long-term.  They may benefit from you going at it for a few months and then recommending the app to your friends, who then sign up.  And the apps make money, and people spend more time scrolling.  Meeting people in real life feels like an anomaly, just like me.
And I choose to live life as a Solo.  This experiment ultimately confirmed this desire.  And if you’re reading and want to give advice, I’d prefer you didn’t.