Dating, ‘talking white’ and the proximity to whiteness – Yahoo News

OPINION: Part of “lifting while we climb” is deconstructing and speaking out about the harmful practices and assumptions that allowed some of us to move up the ladder faster

Recently, I returned to the world of online dating. Or rather, I have attempted to date recently. In the early stages of the pandemic, amidst acclimating to a new job, the protests, and managing my anxiety around catching COVID-19—the loss of the sole person in my pandemic bubble hit me hard. To be clear, my partner and I broke up. So, I soon decided that I could not survive complete isolation and figured why not try my hand at online dating and get back on the horse—or whatever that metaphor is.

Online dating is overwhelming, but you know this, probably. At this point, numerous contemporary comedies have highlighted the horror that is online dating. Think HBO’s Insecure, Netflix’s Master of None or literally anything on television that portrays people dating who are under the age of 45. Art imitates life and true to art, my online dating experience leaves much to be desired.

The process of weeding through so many profiles, keeping track of multiple conversations and remembering who does what is a lot. It feels like an unending house hunt—you could find your forever home, a temporary rental or something that was advertised as mansion but is really lean—you just never know.

Oddly, when I first moved to the DC area for grad school, I loved online dating—it felt like a great way to meet new people in a new area. As an extrovert, I have always loved meeting people—listening to their weird idiosyncrasies, hearing the pedantic drama of their jobs and attempting to charm folks with my off brand awkward Black girl humor.

leisure, people and technology concept – happy african american couple with laptop computer and takeaway pizza and drinking red wine at home

But now, several years later and months deep into an international pandemic, online dating doesn’t quite sparkle like it used to. It’s harder to strike up and sustain interesting conversations online and in-person and frankly, after spending countless hours by myself (i.e. with my plants), I don’t much care to entertain new people anyway. But, I begrudgingly returned to Hinge—the app meant to be deleted, that I seemingly could not keep deleted.



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