The stigma of online dating services

So dating in the real world is hard, right? Sex and the City lied to us; not that it portrayed dating as easy or relationships as a piece of cake, but it did seem like none of those women ever had a problem finding some hunk o’ man to eventually drive away as a result of their weird neurotic tendencies, or as the case sometimes was, to win over with their endearing neurotic tendencies. There was always someone they were involved with, even if he ended up being a nutjob and things didn’t work out. My problem is not that I screw it up with the people I date or that they end up being not quite right; it’s that I can’t find people to date in the first place.

This is without question largely my fault (and for more on the particular ways I suck in the field of romance, go here!). I guess I just don’t have the go-out-and-get-’em attitude the TV ladies had, and I rarely randomly meet someone in a bar (probably because I don’t go out to bars that often - again, something I could certainly change). In any case, it’s tough, and I don’t think I’m alone in thinking so. And thus we come to the topic of this article: the online dating service. We’ve all heard of Match.com, JDate, eHarmony, and all those online sites that promise to find you an s.o. lickety-split, and there’s definitely a stigma associated with them, compounded no doubt by their cheesy-as-all-get-out commercials, in which a couple giggles stupidly and relates their charming (cough*CORNY*cough) tale of getting together and making babies. These sites and their assurances of true love are off-putting, somehow. It’s something I would never sign on for. Nope, not ever. Because it’s stupid. Right? A website can’t find me a boyfriend! Why not, you ask? Because.... because it’s stupid.

That’s what I had been telling myself. I felt that sites like that were definitely not for me, no way, but then I realized I’ve been in this town for more than a year without any steamy affairs to write about for you, my devoted readers, and I started to think about why these sites are so unappealing.* After all, I’ve encountered quite a lot of people who say it works - someone’s sibling met their husband that way, or so-and-so met their girlfriend on such-and-such.com. And you have to admit, it’s a good way to go on a lot of dates, without strings attached or expectations; you’re just meeting someone to see how it goes, and at the end of it you don’t have to feel compelled to do it again. Furthermore, a big plus is that you know you’re on a date; it’s not one of those situations where you’re out with a friend and you suddenly realize that you don’t know if you’re just platonic friends or what, and then things get confusing/complicated. No, here it’s pretty straightforward - you’re on a date, and you’re trying to evaluate whether or not you might eventually want to make out with this person. And furthermore, if nothing else, you will meet new people who are potential friends if not lovers (and chances are good for that, given all the compatibility and shared interests crap the website is supposedly keeping track of), or at the very least you will presumably get some good stories out of the whole thing. One of my friends who’s on Match.com went on a date with a girl who only had one hand, not that there’s anything funny about that.**

Looking at it that way, why not do it? What’s the deal with the online-dating-service stigma? I’ve been discussing it with my friends, and here’s what we came up:

1. It’s sort of like admitting defeat. It’s saying, “Yes, I need help finding someone.” And that’s sort of embarrassing/humbling. And let me tell you, we twenty-somethings hate being humbled.
2. As mentioned above, it looks corny. Twenty-somethings hate things that are corny, unless they are ironically corny, or unless we ironically like the thing that is corny. We love being ironic.
3. Despite the corniness, it’s not corny enough. What I mean is, you’re not supposed to plan to meet your special someone, especially not through a website where you enter in your personal info and have to market yourself in a 400-word summary. You’re supposed to stumble into their arms at a concert or something. The point is, it takes away some of the romance and mystery of meeting someone new.

It seems to me, though, that those are stupid reasons not to at least try the thing out. If you can get over the admittance of defeat and the un-ironic corniness, and the fact that this will not become the plot of a romantic comedy, then the icky stigma thing might just go away. And you might meet someone cool. Or someone ridiculous and weird, in which case you can laugh about them later with your friends.

Long story short, I think I might try it. The end.

Single and sassy (for now),
Your Portland Twenty-something

*By the way, devoted readers, I will never actually write about any steamy affairs I may have.^  Sorry.
**There is nothing funny about that.

^That is, unless you’re gonna pay me big money. Then I’ll lay it all out there.

PS. People, you’ve gotta lay off me about writing all the time. I know you’re itching for new articles every day. I know! But I have to do all these things like go to Seattle for the weekend and play darts at the Horse Brass (I hit the bulls-eye six times and I’m not even kidding) and move into an apartment building and work a 12-hour double shift at the restaurant. So just LAY OFF ME, OKAY??

PPS. I’m sorry about the above P.S.. I would love to write for you more often. I’ll work on not being so busy and full of youthful zest so that I have more time to write. Please be patient in the meantime.