It is Good Friday.
I am dedicating this morning to catch up with all we have been up to this week and possibly even last week. This is the first of several posts.
I host a Facebook Live show called Ladies Corner with Tee. We are in the middle of a rebrand there. The rebrand will touch on the work we do here at Jacana Books. Hopefully.
So yours truly has been on Tinder.
In England, I did not find much success on dating sites such as Tinder, Plenty of Fish or eHarmony. At the time, I thought there was a lot of racism on those sites. I thought the problem was that black men worthy of me were not on dating sites and white men in the UK don't date black girls.
England is messed up like that. There are lots of accomplished black single women. Waiting. Waiting for their men to show up. It is complicated. The Nigerian/African men in the UK run around like they are God's gift to the world. The white men are scared to engage with you. It can be depressing.
This view is as you can imagine myopic. I talk about my singular and subjective experience. I have friends in interracial relationships. Youtube abounds with successful examples of people finding love on dating sites. But, it hasn't happened to me. Yet.
Canada is different. The men here are friendly. Canadians are good people.
Perhaps, it is because of diversity. Perhaps, it is because Canada is a nation of immigrants, it feels hopeful to expect to find love somewhere in Canada. Here is what happened to me on Tinder.
I got a lot of love both from my black brothers and white men. Having always preferred white men, I found out that I made more connections easily with black Canadian men than with white men. Perhaps, my luck will change in the future, at the moment, it seems the black men I interacted with got me. They were intelligent enough to hold conversations with. They were chatty and they followed Tinder etiquette.
Nothing came out of it. None of the men mirrored what I was looking for anyhow.
I got bored. I wanted more. They did not have what I wanted. Black men seem socio-economically weak in Canada. Some are progressives, a lot of them lack a certain allure that turned me off. But then again, who finds true love on Tinder? This was a social experiment at best.
The white men were conversational at the start, but it seemed with them, the rush to sex was within the first 5 minutes. I lie. Two guys were different. Maybe even three. But, they exhibited different fetishes that made me move on.
The first guy looked normal enough, he spoke like a regular bloke. We even exchanged numbers. Then, it began. The pictures. He was really eager to show me his body. To be fair, he had a great body. I wanted to talk, he wanted to share photos. He shared his photos without asking me if I wanted to see his naked body. I wanted him to want to get to know me. This is too much to ask for on Tinder apparently. None of the guys I spoke with wanted to get to know me. There was no rush to verify anything they said or I said. I wasn't successful getting their Facebook handles either.
A man without a digital trail is not a safe man to be with. So none of my conversations on Tinder was potentially going to materialise into anything.
The second white guy on Tinder was a ten-minute experience. To be fair, I was quite excited when he said hello. What went wrong was the conversation. How do you talk about sex in the first two minutes? But then, it is Tinder.
We are not all whores.
The third guy was actually a white Brazillian. Some sort of professor his profile said. He was too needy. I wanted to talk. He wanted to talk. But then, the talk wore me out. I couldn't lie to myself any more so I let him go.
The guy I would have preferred let me go because I was tired of talking and told him I needed to sleep. In the morning, he was no longer on Tinder. Or he had blocked me.
I can go on and on.
Tinder is a place of extremes. I got more talk than I wanted in my life and offers for sex. The conversations were superficial and without meaning.
Ultimately, I deleted my profile because Tinder made me feel dirty. I cannot explain it. But logging into to Tinder started to get me anxious. I began to resent the rush to sex or talk about sex. I began to hate the speed at which sex talk was the order of the day. Tinder lived up to its hype. It was all about sex.
One guy revealed to me that he had slept with twenty-three women on Tinder. With a man like that, why won't he rush to get any woman to bed? I wasn't on Tinder for sex, it seemed to me that the conversations could not be without sex. Some of the men on Tinder were depraved. They just wanted to objectify you. The conversations were not clean enough or reflective of the person I have become or becoming.
I left Tinder.
Do I feel bad? No. Not really. I found that I actually prefer my life and my busyness to the fakeness of Tinder. A man that wants to have sex with you within five minutes of talking to you is not a man. He is an animal.
As far as social experiments go, I will write again soon about what the clubs are like in Edmonton.
Or I could try the more respectful eHarmony.
Wish me luck.
PS: The song is Ibeyi's, Stranger Lover. Enjoy!