Why I Ditched Dating and Started Interviewing Men on Dating Apps

How did your first relationship end? What do you think about monogamy? What type of woman do you want to marry?

These are not typical first-date questions, but after two years of unsuccessfully using Tinder, Bumble, and Hinge, I decided that interviewing my matches was much more intellectually rewarding and a better way to get to know a potential partner. Hear me out.

Despite some dating apps’ attempts to market their product to ladies and promises to remove misbehaving users, I still found that dating apps provide a platform that promotes the male gaze. I’m not the only one who has been bombarded with overtly sexual pickup lines and unsolicited dick pics or dealt with the occasional nonstop harasser. It certainly feels that, to some extent, dating apps have contributed to a culture that accepts the dehumanization of women and even abets it by allowing perpetrators to sit safely behind a screen and avoid taking any accountability for their actions.

This was my experience, yet I could never bring myself to give up on these apps. I was going to school, working, socializing, and traveling — the apps were convenient for my lifestyle.

So, instead of deleting my dating apps, I decided to take a new approach to using them. I deleted all the extraneous information about my hobbies, personality, and sun sign on my profiles and replaced them with a simple question “Are you a fuckboy? I want to interview you for my research on dating and masculinity!”

My mission was threefold. From an educational standpoint, I hoped that interviewing men on dating apps would allow me to gain a clearer understanding of their desires and motivations. As a journalism major, I also thought it would be a wonderful opportunity to practice my interview skills. And finally, part of me still wanted to find a partner and thought this might be the best way.

After putting up my new profile, messages began flooding my inbox. Responses ranged from supportive and gracious to defiant and defensive. Many thanked me for taking the time to hear their perspectives, and others called me a “fucking feminazi.” Despite the variations in responses, most of the men I interviewed were curious, open, and desperate to tell me how they felt about dating and masculinity.

So, as any journalist would, I jotted down a list of questions, including: Where are you from? What are your parents like? What was your childhood like? What was your first relationship like? Have you ever cheated? What do you think about dating apps? Do you want a long-term marriage? What does masculinity mean to you? How do you define happiness?

I would never ask these questions on a date. They feel invasive and impolite and are tough questions to answer amid sexual tension. In fact, research shows that about 43% of people lie on the first date. They might exaggerate how much money they make, underestimate their past sexual history, or misrepresent what they’re looking for.

In an interview setting, however, there is no pressure to impress anyone. There is no reason not to answer honestly — and answer honestly these men did. I sat back in amusement as the seemingly untroubled boys I had seen on Tinder posing with dogs and testing corny pickup lines transformed into highly conscious and morally confused young men. They unleashed all sorts of admissions: Some told me they still hadn’t recovered from their first heartbreak or struggled with their body image as teens. Many felt impacted by their parents’ dysfunctional relationships.

Even some of the most seasoned dating app users I interviewed admitted that online dating had resulted in relationships in which the two parties’ intentions were not aligned. Many men I spoke with described dating in a digital world as a mind game: Some people want sex, others want dinner paid for, and a few want a serious partner. Everyone is trying to interpret each other’s intentions without too strongly revealing their own. When everybody’s expectations are not clearly laid out, a relationship is set up to fail.

After a couple of hours of interviewing, I felt like I knew many of these young men better than my high school boyfriend, whom I had dated for two years. We often avoid asking the people we’re dating hard questions because we fear what the answers might say about them. I argue that asking hard questions is just as essential to a good interview as it is to build a good relationship. I was surprised to learn how willing these young men were to “go deep” with me. And by “deep,” I mean I had never enjoyed so many intellectual conversations and debates with men my age. We talked about issues like the socialization of the macho-male, biological differences between men and women, and the impact of consumer culture on dating. I enjoyed learning about them and learning about myself through them.

One of the elements of interviewing that I enjoyed the most was the lack of pressure to reciprocate feelings or have them at all. I always presented myself as a journalist, and most of the men I spoke to understood their role in the interviewer-subject relationship perfectly. Yet, occasionally, a match would write me something along the lines of “Can this interview take place under the sheets?” or “What’s in it for me?” I was straight with them and explained that I wasn’t interested in dating but simply wanted to interview men for my research on dating and masculinity. If they couldn’t handle just an interview, they obviously couldn’t handle me.

About 90% of my interviews led to nothing, but the rest were extremely rewarding. Some sent me texts to check in after our interview. Others were very grateful that I spoke to them and told me that the self-reflection I urged helped them reevaluate their lives. I became friends with a few of them. They showed me around their cities, and we had dinners, went to the beach, and to concerts. Sometimes it was platonic, and sometimes romantic. Either way, it never felt like a waste of time.

In my most memorable interview, a young man explained that he was also sick of dating apps. He couldn’t stand the time wasted messaging virtual strangers and would much rather get to know someone in person. He was confident without being cocky and cared deeply for the people in his life. We chatted for hours and ordered drinks. He poured his whiskey into my milkshake, and the rest was history. He was my last interviewee and eventually became my boyfriend.

Ultimately, this experience taught me that the way so many of us have been using dating apps is all wrong, especially for women. We overthink who to swipe on, prescreen matches by communicating with them online, and show up to dates with nothing left to talk about. While it’s perfectly fine to vet a person on social media before meeting them, it’s a waste of time trying to piece together who they are from a digital facade.