Serving the GW Community since 1904

The GW Hatchet

AN INDEPENDENT STUDENT NEWSPAPER SERVING THE GW COMMUNITY SINCE 1904

The GW Hatchet

Serving the GW Community since 1904

The GW Hatchet

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Love, the Hatchet: Swiping to self-validation

I had never felt explicitly desired until I downloaded Tinder my senior year of high school. I’ve spent much of my life struggling with self-esteem – I can remember thinking I wasn’t thin enough as young as 5- or 6-years-old and the issue persists today.

Tinder was an opportunity to receive the validation I had been craving. After a few swipes and exchanged messages, I started receiving compliments on my appearance like I had never experienced before. Receiving messages as simple as “you’re cute” or a cheesy pick-up line felt flattering and exciting. Even the pick-up lines that were a little off-center and even distasteful made me feel for the first time like I could be attractive – on one occasion, someone said, “Are you an orphanage? Because I’m tryna give you kids.” I had gone most of my life feeling like my body was not attractive, but within a few hours of Tinder swipes, I felt empowered. Until, suddenly, I didn’t.

I got caught up in the constant cycle of swiping, matching, messaging. Some led to a hookup, some didn’t. A boy I matched with early on, who I met up with a couple of times, seemed great until he stood me up one night in January. I spent hours in my room, waiting for a text I never received. I stayed up until 4 a.m. until finally deciding that maybe he did not want to see me. I never heard from him again. He was only the second guy I had been with and I was left feeling used. I had enjoyed being wanted in the moment, but I found myself afterward feeling unlovable, as though I could never be date-able for a boy.

Olivia Columbus | Design Editor

As the months stretched on, I deleted and re-downloaded Tinder a few more times. With every impulsive download, I kept thinking my experience would be different. And pretty much every time, I was wrong. The experience was even worse. Last semester, I hooked up with someone who I assumed would be a one-time thing, only to wake up to a Snapchat from the guy. I thought I had a chance and this could turn into a regular fling. But he stopped responding in the middle of a conversation and I never heard from him again. It stung but didn’t surprise me.

I get attached easily and find myself conflating dating and hookups. Every time a boy ghosted me or a relationship ended poorly in one way or another, I would quickly spiral and tell myself that every ended relationship was the result of my unlovable nature. Every guy proved me right – I was unworthy of love, not pretty enough, not skinny enough. But at a certain point, I realized the issue had nothing to do with me and everything to do with college dating culture.

Both men and women who have casual sex had lower overall self-esteem compared to those who do not partake in casual hookups, according to a study by the American Psychological Association. On top of that, nearly 74 percent of college-aged women have reportedly experienced regret after a hook-up, with a different study showing that women have strong feelings of “regret because they felt used” after a hook-up. Every piece of research backed my experience. The ongoing struggle with body image, self-esteem and the desire to be desired entangles itself into a messy web of dating and hook-up culture, which I’ve discovered is more harmful to my struggle than the quick ego-boost.

For now, Tinder is deleted from my phone, but who knows the next time I will feel the urge to re-download for a quick confidence boost. Sadly, Tinder was not designed to cure my life-long battle with self-esteem. I need to remind myself that I am more than Riley, 19, a student who lives in D.C.  – I’m a person with interests and aspirations that people cannot see in my selfies and profile pictures. All I can really do is make the choices that feel right for me, and keep in mind that a swipe right is not indicative of my worth.

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