New City, New Start has gone.

POF has gone.

And although I’m still single, I’m relieved that my junk inbox is no longer filled with constant notifications of blokes winking at me or wanting to meet me.

Despite many people’s reservations about the shagging app Tinder, it’s been my trusty companion during the turmoil caused by POF and Match. I still find myself developing RSI from all the swiping, but at least I can control who I talk to. What’s more, is that every single first date I’ve been on in the last 9 months has been with a guy I met on Tinder.

Hang on, reading that back it doesn’t sound so good…

For all the stick Tinder receives, it’s true to its word. It doesn’t claim to find my future husband or decide who is unsuitable for me, it lets me do all the work. And it keeps me interested. I’ve just moved to a new city and, having spent a spare moment swiping, my Tinder is a hub of activity. Not only has it provided me with a host of new people to flick left or right on, but it is also presenting me with people who actually live close by rather than 137km away.

To complement my Tinder lifestyle, I will engage with men in the real world (at least this way I don’t have to awkwardly type: “May I ask how tall you are…?”). So fingers crossed for the next chapter of the story; maybe Prince Charming just moved to Brighton too.

Photo by Rhys Kentish on Unsplash

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