“Hello my little Mocha Chocalata ya ya. Are you into guys or girls more?”
If you’re like me, or millions of other people in the 21st century, you’ve tried your hand at online dating. While I’m sure that it’s worked for plenty of people (and I know, by observation, that it has), I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with it. Initially, I downloaded tinder due to two-parts curiosity and one-part persuasion. I didn’t know much about it, aside from the fact that people “swiped left” and “swiped right” on others based on how they looked.
So I created my account, wrote my bio, added my cutest Facebook pictures, and waited around for a bit. Eventually, I got bored and began swiping people left and right. Side note: one issue I have with online dating is that the male to female ratio is extremely skewed. Even if I set my settings to include both men and women, I’ll be subjected to about 20 men before I see one woman.
I quickly began seeing the pop-up declaring in pretty letters that I’ve made a match. So, I go to the next page only to find that person’s name has mysteriously disappeared. I later found out that it usually means someone un-matched with you. I shrugged it off and continued piling up my matches. Sometimes there were conversations, 90% of the time there weren’t. Sometimes I’d choose to say hi first, and they often wouldn’t respond. I failed to see what was so great about Tinder. Majority of the guys never wanted to talk to girls first, it was difficult for me to find other female matches, and I was subjected to updates about the condition of various penises without consent.
I didn’t understand the constant hypersexualization of otherwise normal conversations. Majority of my interactions with men on Tinder occurred as follows:
Me: Hey 🙂
Him: hey whats up?
Me: Not much. Watching TV. You?
Him: same haha 😛
Him: kinda horny haha 😛
Him: yea haha 😉
Him: what would you do if i was there right now? haha 😉
*Two hours later*
Him: u there?
I learned later that Tinder was a place people went to when they were down for casual hookups, and I suppose I understand it. It explained a lot regarding the people I came in contact with. Now don’t get me wrong, there were times when I met some really amazing people on there. Granted, they rarely lasted further than one or two conversations.
I usually delete Tinder after about a month and reinstall the app after about 6 months.
Another website that I occasionally visit is OkCupid. A step above Tinder, OKC still involves swiping, but it also allows you to have the chance to read detailed bios and look at compatibility questions. While I also have the tendency to ditch this site when I get bored, the quality in conversation is far superior to that of the so-called “hookup app.” Unfortunately, I also have the added privilege of running into bored straight couples searching for a unicorn to experiment on. Due to the number of unwelcome sexual inquiries I received, I had to add a nice big “**NO COUPLES PLEASE**” onto my profile. Usually their profile consists of:
He’s 28. She’s 25 and bi-curious. We’re a couple seeking an adventurous, sexy woman to hang out with us. We’re down for going out, maybe smoking, and getting into some fun 😉
NO DUDES. Only girls.
The photo is almost always the faceless woman in a tight dress, and a faceless man baring his shirtless torso.
Back when I identified as straight, the worst of my online dating troubles came from men (usually white ones) asking me if I A) was attracted to “their type” and B) had a big ass. The start of these one-sided conversations reeked of one too many nights in the Ebony tag of a porn website, fantasizing about the dark skinned sex freak they’ve always wanted but never had. With time, I’ve learned that a lot of men on these sites have a sort of sexual bucket list. Their goal is to eventually bang every ~out there~ option of woman until they decide to settle down with someone they deem safe.
You see, to these socially awkward men in my inbox who learned about women through PornHub, fat girls were lonely and willing to sleep with anything, black girls were aggressive sex demons, and bi girls were up for any and everything (no matter how performative.) And lucky me being all three. Just right to knock out three bucket list goals in one fatal swoop. Three birds one stone.
Unfortunately for them, this isn’t a scripted video, and I’m not obligated to lower my standards just because they find their sex lives boring.
When I say it hasn’t been all bad, I mean it. I’ve met a few amazing people through dating apps, and while the relationships didn’t really go anywhere specific, I ended up making decent friends. I’ve gone on a few wonderful dates with wonderful men, and even if those didn’t go anywhere, the experience was still memorable.
I don’t think I put much stock into online dating, however. It’s something I do for fun. And while it’s nice to meet up with someone for a meal and a movie, I kind of like the idea of ending the date and moving on to someone else for a bit. If I ever end up with someone seriously, I think I’d rather meet them face-to-face first.
One thought on “Online Dating While Bi & Black”
The part about couples is so damn relatable!! I got that all the time! It’s like they think that bi means two at once. So annoying!