Category: Modern love

Where have all the tailfeathers gone?

I can’t decide if I hate bumble or not. Full disclaimer: heteronormative content below

Here’s some background for those of you who haven’t had the extreme honor of being an active user of online dating. Bumble is an app like many dating apps. You set your preferences and then swipe right when you like someone’s face/hobbies/pets. If they swipe right on you too, then you match (insert heart emoji here). The quirk with bumble is that women have to initiate the conversation first. If the woman doesn’t message within 24 hours of matching, the guy never gets a chance to message, and she loses access to her potential soul mate.

At first, I hated it. I refused to download it. AS IF WOMEN DON’T DO ENOUGH GODDAMNIT. I thought about the animal kingdom and my hours spent watching planet earth in college. Most male animals, have to earn the attention of women. Have you seen those bird dances?!?! The male bird has to lay out all the moves, gyrating, jumping, flipping, and the woman can still be like, “NO THANKS!” And I doubt she feels any guilt. On a side note, in human world, if a guy pays for dinner, buys flowers (which is still awkward), or shows he put any effort into the date, I somehow feel obligated to reward him. Rewards may vary. On the aggressive end, guy walruses have to physically destroy competitor males in order to gain access to lady walruses. And although I’m against human violence and would think a man who punched every other man in a bar in order to talk to me was cray–I’ve always secretly wanted men to compete for my love. Because Bridget Jones.

So if male animals have to dance, fight, and earn their way into the reproductive organs of their baby mamas…why do bumble men get to sit on their assess and wait for women to come to them?!?

I hear it’s confusing when you want to be respected like an equal and also get courted. Why should men have to do all the initiating? Haven’t women been begging for equality since forever?!? Well, the wage gap is real and we’re still having all the babies, so throw a girl a bone will ya. Pun intended? But don’t just throw it at me. Give it to me passionately, after about 5 dates, all whilst considering my wants and needs. 

Back to Bumble. When the app first launched, the woman would message and then the man could take however long he wanted to respond. Da eff?! As if I need another reminder in life that I’m on a biological clock and men have forever. BUT. They have changed the game recently. Men now have to respond within the same 24 hour period in order to stay matched with their paramours.

Now let’s get to what Bumble was trying to do. Which is apparently empower women. It’s the “feminist” dating app. It puts women in control of their love lives. It protects against creepers, asshats, and Chads. 

How does it do this? By letting women control if and when communication happens.

A dear friend of mine often reminds me in moments of dating frustration, “you get to decide.” And this is true. Apart from the scenario in which a partner has dumped you, then you get to be sad. But if he’s not making you a priority, you get to say, “it ain’t working for me”. If he’s booty calling/texting, you get to decide whether or not to give the booty. The booty is yours, the decision is yours, and it’s nice to be reminded that we’re all empowered adults here, so let’s make decisions that make us feel that way.

So I guess Bumble is saying. It’s up to women (within 24 hours). Or as Beyonce would say, “Girls, we run this motha!”

I don’t know if I’m buying it. On Bumble, you have to think of a clever text within 24 hours AND THEN find out he’s a loser. At least on other apps, you can weed them out right away.

Maybe Bumble is actually propagating the “woman as nurturer” stereotype. We give and give and give. And should only expect a half-assed reply back.

And now that I’ve come across as a cynical, man-hater. I assure you I am not. Men, you are great. And love, you are worth the effort. But feminism, is not an app that forces women to talk first.

Modern heartache

Tor Erik Gorud
Courtesy Tor Erik Gorud

We’ve all read the articles on modern love. We’re a bunch of non-committal, option seeking, instant gratification, casual everything types. Or so they say. And if this is what they’re saying about our love, what are they saying about our heartache?

Thing is, I don’t think much is being said about modern heartache. If we don’t even get to fall in love properly, how are we expected to grieve properly? I mean, were you even IN a relationship?

I’ve heard way too many people brush off the awfulness of rejection by saying something like, “it wasn’t like he was my boyfriend.” Hell nah. You get to be sad. You put yourself out there, let a stranger see your heart/soul/tits and for whatever reason it ended. It is still hard. It’s a completely different type of love torture when you don’t get closure because things were ambiguous to begin with.

So I think it’s appropriate to feel like shit if after a month of hooking up, the communication goes silent and your friends are yelling GET OVER IT. I’d like us to stop diminishing our hurt feelings. Dwelling on a month long hook-up may not be the healthiest mentality, but perhaps suppressing our true pain leads to prolonged heartache.

In a culture where love is casual, break-ups are meant to be shaken off. Even at the end of what’s considered a “relationship,” there’s an expectation that we shouldn’t fall to pieces. Beyonce is telling us to rejoice in being a single lady but we’re sobbing because he never even considered he might, one day, put a ring on it.

I remember I called in sick to work the day after a break up. And it wasn’t because I coincidentally caught the stomach flu the moment we said it was over. It’s because I spent all night crying, woke up with my eyes swollen, and couldn’t imagine what would happen if someone flippantly asked, “how are you?” I felt so stupid for missing work. He wasn’t immobilized by heartache. Many people aren’t. I felt ashamed of my need to grieve, to process my emotions before interacting with the world at large.

I know that I am a strong, independent woman. But I still occasionally need to sob on the floor. One does not counteract the other. When I grieve, I grieve hard. Like a wrecking ball of tears. Then I put myself back together, wiser and stronger than before. Just like Miley.

We need to stop apologizing for being sad. When I find myself crying in front of a friend, my first reaction is to say I’m sorry. Why? Because I think crying shows I’m not resilient. There are certainly times when you should try to hold back tears. For instance, when you’re on public transportation (unless you want to tell a stranger about your life). But when a friend asks how you’re coping, let ‘em flow.

One of the greatest things someone ever said to me after a break-up was that my sadness was actually a good thing. It meant I cared enough to be that hurt. It was the first time I had ever thought to be proud of my tears.

Heartache is a sign that you made yourself vulnerable and opened yourself up to all the great things. So to all the lovers out there: love with passion and hurt with pride.