Dating : Why I’m So Picky on Dating Apps as a Gay Man

Who does this boy think he is, anyway?

If it were me reading this article, I’d be halfway through my quest to find an Instagram handle already.

All jokes aside, I’m not writing about this today because I’m proud of my pickiness on dating apps — in fact, I’m rather embarrassed to be writing this at all. If I want to really explain why most profiles go left when I swipe, I have to air out some pretty deep-seated insecurities (which is famously so much fun).

Many of these insecurities, I think, have to do with the fact that I identify as queer.

I’ve been in the “gay man” online dating pool since I was 17-years-old, and it’s not always the easiest pool to be swimming in.

It can be harsh, judgemental, and unforgiving. You get sized up in an instant, and if deemed not attractive enough, you’re cast aside and ignored. I know this because I’ve been on both sides of the game.

Sometimes, I’m the one doing the casting aside and ignoring. I see a profile, and I decide within split seconds if this person is going to get a message back, or if I’ll never see their face again. Just like Danny Phantom, I have the power to become a ghost — poof, I’m gone, without even so much as a single read receipt.

Other times, I’m the one that has to deal with the sting of rejection. Whether it’s not a match, a delayed unmatch, or a boy-gone-ghost, I’m left with nothing but my own self-doubts to keep my company.

‘Why didn’t he like me? What was it about me that he didn’t like? Was it my nose? Was it the way my eyes get all squinty when I smile? Have I been working out enough? Was it something I said?’

Just like an actor watching their own movie, I can’t help but poke holes in my “performance”.

I get insecure, and I find myself swiping even more furiously than before to “win” back that sense of security. If I match with a cute guy, all is good again in the world.

So what does this 21st-century, masochistic cycle have to do with being queer?

While not solely relegated to the world of gay men, I think there’s something to be said about our shared search for acceptance.

We’ve all come out, and while each coming out experience is very different, we all know what it feels like to question our acceptance in the eyes of those we love based on aspects of our identity. Although I was fortunate to have extremely accepting friends and family at my side when I came out, it was still painful (dare I say, traumatic).

If you’ve never had to pace back-and-forth in your room, wondering to yourself if what you’re about to tell your loved ones may change the way they see you forever, then I hope you never know what that feels like.

Harder still is the post-coming out quest to accept ourselves for who we are, which is, in my experience, a lot slower and more painful of a process than coming out to other people.

I’m still processing, even today, and I think I will be for a long time to come.

This is what gay men bring into the dating pool — their own negative self-talk and an inability to fully let go of their fear of rejection.

And the best way to temporarily relieve yourself of that emotional baggage? Project it; put your walls up, protect yourself from any external judgment, and let your insecurities become the shortcomings of others.

He’s too fat. He’s too thin. He’s not athletic. He’s overcompensating. He’s too feminine. His eyes are crooked. His hair is a mess. His style is way too much.

Your inner voice becomes a swipe on Tinder or a ghosted message on Grindr.

If we’re never enough for ourselves, then it becomes increasingly difficult for someone else to be enough for us. We set an impossibly high standard for ourselves and those we choose to date. If we should let that standard slip, then our inner voice would win.

I’m not sure how many people will be able to relate to all this, but this is how I feel. My self-esteem as a queer person has been turbulent all my life, and so that turbulence transfers into my dating world.

I’m working on it, as we all should, and although I wish I could just show the world the final product like a caterpillar emerging from a cocoon, I think there’s something to be said about the healing power of being honest in the moment — however brutally.

Like I said, I’m still processing. It’s ok if you are too.

As we do that, let’s keep one thing in mind: let’s all do our best to treat people with kindness and respect, even when we aren’t always able to do so for ourselves. We’re all fruit of the same tree; we all just want to feel accepted.