In a couple of weeks, I’ll turn XX years old – the age I have permitted some people to drag my introvert ass out to do a scavenger hunt for someone’s son’s mumu button. Until then, I have “single as a pringle” jokes for days and a cheek full of insults for uninvited guests who view my status as a complete paralysis of being (especially as a woman). The thunder that will fire some of you is doing press-up in an Agama lizard’s body at your village.
Following a friend’s advice, I joined a dating app – Hinge, for the past two months. Before I tell you my non-existent romantic escapades, I want to speak face-to-face to friends who recommend dating apps for introverts. First of allll… it is still like being outside with strangers but online. Of course, I have deleted it, not out of success but the annoyance of my experience on the app. The thing is, as an introvert – I am not mad at dating apps the same way I am not mad at outside. However, what irks me is how human beings interact and (mis)behave within my bubble.
Being on a dating app doesn’t remove my hatred for people who start chats with single-word conversation killers. You know how someone will start a conversation with “Hi,” and you’ll return with “Hello” 6hrs later, and they’ll return with “It’s nice to connect with you.” And you’ll say, “Likewise.” Then, another 24hrs have passed, and they’ll return with “How are you doing?” and it goes on and on and on… Or people that just start conversations with “Our wife” or “wifey.” Where are the 60 tubers of yam, life goat with lion whiskers, and 5 eagle feathers that must precede your ownership of me, my lord? It is the audacity and covetousness for meeh! Will you go back to the end of the line and join the queue!
Another pet peeve is when someone asks me the same information I have explicitly stated. I habitually put forward information that I am too tired of repeating. For example, “What do you do?” Any mid-career twenty-something-year-old living in this zoom era is exhausted from hearing that question. Not to now talk of being a Gen-Z introvert. So, when I have clearly put that I exist as the apple of God’s eye, and you ask, “What color is the apple?” Just know that the only thing preventing me from shooting a water gun at your forehead is a thousand miles and our phone screens.
And I will leave the ghosts to rest in peace, but first, I must RIP them into pieces. After my first ghosting experience, I swore that at this point, if my mother volunteered to matchmake me with a wealthy friend’s son, I wouldn’t mind. Even if his “h” or “s” factor is louder than rapture’s whistle, we can meet at the altar and call it a day. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way that this isn’t uncommon in our generation, and when I chatted with a friend about it, I wasn’t comforted by our conversation.
Since people are on multiple dating apps, sometimes chatting with more than 5 people at once, commitment to continuing a great conversation almost seems too much to ask. As a chronic planner and an introvert, before conversations I do 30 jumping jacks, perform self-auditions, and practice with my mirror to ensure that I don’t say “hi, I am a cow” when I pick up the phone. I like simple predictability to some extent that I learned makes people in this day and age inconvenient. So, at the end of each conversation, I like to ask if this will happen again and just agree on a date and time for the next conversation. I detest when people leave conversations very vaguely, making someone feel like a placeholder.
I also realized that I am a monogamist in my relationship attempts. I like to face one way until it crashes. Because I am an introvert, I feel so drained having conversations with multiple people that I don’t even open messages until I shut one door, defeating the whole purpose of existing on a dating app and maximizing its functions. I also like details in conversations, hence my curiosity. However, I have a cap for how many people’s businesses I can store in my memory. Once my emotional capacity for information is full or outdated – there is no recycle bin, it is ctrl + delete. My close friends are sometimes surprised at how I can remember so much and great details but so little at the same time.
I am here on all our behalf to drag the souls of friends who are so confident that dating apps are the right fits or perfect alternatives for introverts. I understand that you need to get rid of us and move on with your lives, but I promise you, putting us for sale on Amazon or Jumia is a better option. At least, we will find serious customers ready to drop credit card and do business. Dating apps are just the virtual ghetto some introverts avoid in person.
And I know someone will say 2 months is too short to quit. Well, I don’t disagree. However, I have spent too much of my little introvert energy attempting to maintain surface-level conversations that I don’t even have the words to argue with anyone about how long one should endure before giving up. Will I go back again? I don’t know. And before you even think it, I have heard and thought it too… that saying, “If you continue like this, you’ll end up being lonely.” My response, “Using loneliness to scare an introvert is like using fire to terrify Sango. Good luck with that tactic!”
For the single men reading this and considering shooting their shot – know that my mother recently gave me 4 pieces of meat on Amala and Gbegiri with Ewedu, so I will not settle for less. You should also know that I don’t do make-up and nails, but I can spend someone’s inheritance on books and ice cream if I am allowed – not mine sha. Finally, you must arrive looking like the second coming of Jesus – sees sees sees – 6 packs, 6 figures, and 6 feet. If not, avoid me. Just kidding!
On a more serious note… people often assume that because introverts spend a lot of time alone, bare minimum effort and conversations when we put ourselves forward blow our minds. I must emphasize that if the conversation is more boring than the conference with the multiple personalities happening in our heads or your presence is less engaging than our silence, till we meet again; and certainly not in this life or the next.
Of course, this is banter. I encourage you to keep trying if you find yourself in my shoes. However, when cupid fails to aim right, a knock on his head isn’t child abuse. He is a grown man now and should do better in sending a man to drop from the sky for us.
I know you missed my blogging. I missed you too. I am not yet officially off my 6-month vacation happening twice this year but if you dangle $1M on Santorini Island, I will consider coming out for you. I am not shy for that kind of thing at all.
Ps. After how many years of blogging I have finally decided to open the comment section on my blog. 🌚🌝 Talk to me nice!