Love, Lust, or Just a Walking Red Flag? The Rollercoaster Ride of Dating Apps

From the Tinder swindlers to the Hinge hotties, the Raya ravers, and the Bumble baddies dating apps have become an undeniable staple in modern romance, whether we like it or not. There’s no escaping them. Yet, I find myself constantly wondering: Are these apps doing more harm than good?

Sure, it’s fun to swipe through an endless catalog of potential partners, playing judge, jury, and executioner in the grand game of digital love. But is any of it real? Or are we all just contestants in some bizarre, never ending dating simulation where the prize is a mildly interesting situationship and a collection of half hearted “wyd” texts?

The Universal Desire for Love (or At Least a Little Attention)

No matter how hard people try to deny it, we all want to be loved. It’s comforting to think that in a world of 7 billion+ people, there’s at least one person out there willing to ignore your weird obsession with true crime documentaries and tolerate your aggressive food ordering habits. From movies to books to every song Taylor Swift has ever written, love is constantly shoved in our faces. You can try to run from it, but plot twist you can’t.

However, as society evolves, so do our dating preferences, and sometimes, change is good. Other times, it’s absolutely unhinged.

Let’s Talk About Lust First (Because, Let’s Be Honest, It Runs the Show)

Lust is the MVP of dating apps 9 times out of 10, it’s the driving force behind most interactions. And listen, I’m no saint. Lust is fun. It’s easy. It’s thrilling. It gives you the perks of a relationship without the headache of actually committing to someone. At a time in my life when my main focus was my career and enjoying myself, lust? Sign me up.

I never had trouble meeting men in real life, but like everyone else, I had friends who swore by dating apps. Eventually, curiosity got the best of me, and I caved. My first stop? Tinder.

Oh, boy.

My Introduction to the Wild, Wild West of Tinder

At the tender age of 18, I entered the chaotic jungle that is Tinder, completely unprepared for what awaited me. I saw it all attractive men, married men, men who looked like they were created in a lab experiment gone horribly wrong, and men I’m still not entirely convinced were real humans.

And the cycle was the same: every single one of them wanted the same thing sex. And while that wasn’t exactly my vibe, making money was. So, naturally, I turned Tinder into my personal side hustle. My bio? “CashApp me for a surprise ;)” And shockingly, it worked. I was getting paid, blocking men left and right, living my best scammer-adjacent life… until some married man with entirely too much time on his hands got in his feelings, reported me, and then because that wasn’t enough tracked me down on Facebook to publicly expose me.

Sir. Be so for real.

Graduating from Tinder to Hinge and Bumble (Because Growth!)

With age comes maturity (sometimes), so I leveled up from Tinder to Hinge and Bumble. And this is where things got interesting not just in the lust department, but finally in the love department, too.

Hinge: The Land of Love, Lust, and Delusional Finance Bros

If I had to rank dating apps, Hinge would take the crown. The men are typically the most attractive, though it’s always a 50/50 gamble on whether they’re looking for something serious or just trying to turn their mattress into a crime scene.

My best Hinge experience? A surgeon. Yes, ladies, I got me a whole doctor. He was nine years older, ridiculously fun, and shockingly good-looking, which, let’s be honest, isn’t always the case with surgeons (no offense, but it needed to be said). We had great conversations, bonded over our careers (me in research, him in medicine), and started out in a very lusty space. But over time, I actually liked him.

Then, as karma would have it, I met terrible Hinge guy.

Now, “terrible” might be a stretch—he wasn’t a bad person. Just wickedly lustful, and not great at hiding it. If you’ve ever encountered a finance bro, you already know the personality: walking Patagonia ad, aggressively confident, and somehow convinced his Rolex makes him more attractive than he actually is.

To be fair, I did enjoy the perks of our arrangement boyfriend benefits without the actual relationship. Plus, his job kept him busy, so I never had to spend too much time with him. But then he started… talking. And when I say talking, I mean saying things so out of pocket I actually cringed.

One night, after dinner at his place, I literally had to tell him, “Please stop flirting with me. I can’t take you seriously.” He was offended. Went on a whole monologue about how other girls love when he talks like that and how I was ungrateful for his effort.

Sir, I promise you, no woman actually enjoys a man referring to his penis in third person.

We never spoke again. And honestly? No complaints.

Bumble: Where Men Want Wives (Or Are Freshly Divorced)

Finally, we have Bumble, the app where men are either actively looking for a wife or currently working through their divorce papers. There’s no in between.

My Bumble experience? Hands down, my favorite. I met a guy who actually wanted a real relationship. Our first date lasted hours, dinner conversations turned into museum trips and even God help me a nature walk. And if you know me, you know I’m a city girl. The fact that this man convinced me to voluntarily be in the wilderness was a testament to his charm.

It was all going well… until it wasn’t.

On what would be our last date, I made a joke about how I hate men. Was I joking? Kind of. Sort of. Not really. But he didn’t take it well. Later that night, he sent me a long text about how that comment really bothered him. And just like that poof! he was gone.

Was I blindsided? Yes. Was I heartbroken? Not even a little. I already had someone I was seeing in real life, so I moved on swiftly.

The Final Verdict: Apps vs. Real Life

At the end of the day, dating apps are just another tool to meet people. The men I met through apps? Mostly character development moments. Lessons. Random chapters in the story of my dating life. Half of them I probably won’t even remember in ten years (unless the trauma resurfaces).

But the ones I actually liked? The ones I made real connections with? For them, I’m grateful.

So, whether you’re searching for a soulmate or just a fun time, remember: apps won’t guarantee love, but they will expose you to a whole new world of possibilities (and potential therapy sessions).

And if you’ve found love or trauma through a dating app, drop your story in the comments. You’re not alone. And as always, stay safe, get tested, and happy swiping!