The chef, the spy and the ‘trauma-free’ artist: my dating app adventure

When the Filter asked me to test and rate six dating apps, it was a challenge I undertook without flinching. I’m something of an expert in this field: for close to a decade now, I’ve written and talked about my love life on public platforms. The reactions have always been mixed: friends roll their eyes, family members express quiet concern, and the men I date are either afraid of being written about or desperate to make it into my copy – one proudly tells people at parties that an article I wrote was about him (it wasn’t).

It was familiar territory, yes, but one I hoped might also drive me out of my Hinge-shaped comfort zone and force me to try something different. Maybe I’d discover a new favourite app. Or become overwhelmed by attractive, kind and emotionally available men capable of ameliorating my raging hetero-pessimism. At the very least, I’d get some entertaining anecdotes.

I didn’t think I’d actually meet someone. Not because I didn’t want to. It’s just that I’ve always believed dating apps weren’t designed to help us find love; they simply keep us addicted to looking for it. If you happen to find someone decent, that’s down to luck more than anything else.

Using six apps at once did little to assuage my theory. Frankly, it was exhausting keeping up with the admin of it all: swipe, tap, chat … think of something funny to say. I had to keep reminding myself that I was talking to real people and not bots, even though it frequently felt that way – I’m certain some of my matches used ChatGPT to craft their messages to me. Still, there were fun, flirty conversations, and even a few interesting dates: snogging at the back of cinemas, canoodling at climbing walls, and even a few mini breaks with someone I wound up dating for several weeks.

I suppose the difficulty was that I knew I’d be writing about them all, which dissociated me even further from the reality of what I was doing.

After a while, I found myself narrativising everything and everyone, reducing the men I met to caricatures, avatars I could easily minimise and mock: the former chef who took four hours to cook pasta. The graphic designer who described himself as a “trauma-free” artist. The failed spy whose opening conversation was about how he recently drank a shot of breast milk.

My therapist would call this a defence mechanism: the more you detach, the less likely you’ll get hurt. But I think all of us do this to an extent, writers or not, especially when we’re using dating apps. The experience serves up a dehumanising aftertaste we have to consciously rally against if we want any hope of finding something meaningful that will satiate us.

I plan to bear this in mind moving forward, using one app at a time (Hinge, because I rated it the most highly, and I’m a creature of habit) with the hope of finding a great person instead of yet another great story – frankly, I have enough of those already.

There’s still plenty of time to get your garden ready for summer. If you’re still looking at your dirty decking or patio in despair, one of our recommended pressure washers could help you get it clean faster. Expert reviewer Andy Shaw put eight through their paces, cleaning patios, a car, a water butt, a whirligig and a nextdoor neighbour’s decking. (Spoiler: this was his favourite.)

What gift have you given or received that’s lasted? In this age of poor-quality goods and built-in obsolescence, what have you bought that’s beautiful, well made and hasn’t fallen apart? What have you been given that you still love, and is still going strong, years later? Let us know about your best forever gifts by replying to this newsletter or emailing us at thefilter@theguardian.com.