The entire single population of my city has flocked to dating apps to pass their boredom.
I doubt there has ever been this much traffic and this many people keen to talk.
With the increase of supply and demand, I too have started participating again.
Is this a bit of harmless fun, or should we be careful in giving our heart’s attention away?
“The flame that burns twice as bright burns half as long.” – Lao Tzu
As a survivor of childhood trauma, intimacy is a tricky subject for me.
Not only do I have fast crushes and faster heartbreaks, I also both crave and reject intimacy.
I often treat my love life as another form of addiction – validation and approval from others, what’s there not to like?
Dating apps with their playful interface and immediate results are impersonal enough for me to project whatever hopes I have to on whoever presents themselves.
This is only as dangerous as I am scared of my own feelings that are conjured!
” We addicts crave the intense.
We do not have patience to build a relationship slowly, and expect results immediately.”
– a friend who is wiser than me
While probably generalising an traumatised addict’s experience to the whole world, I do feel like dating apps have their own pitfalls.
The dopamine rush, the adrenaline of the unknown, the endorphins of the match:
But when things don’t work out, I equate sadness with having done something wrong.
Trauma survivors often have difficulty with abandonment and rejection, and I am no exception.
Before I know it, I have high expectations and hopes for people I barely know.
And ignore what I’ve learned from the person I know best (hint it’s me).
“Love is not blind but it leads to blindness.” – Auliq Ice
So what’s the morale of the story? I’m not quite sure.
When let down, I keep on swiping more instead of less.
I still expect someone else to come in and solve my abandonment issues.
Far from unique, I realise that these are frivolous problems.
But a sad heart deserves to be written about!