Online dating was a second to last resort for me (last resort would be trying to find “love” on a reality show, lol). Dating prospects were few and far between, and the chances of actually finding someone worth my time seemed slimmer and slimmer. A couple of my friends had success online, and I figured I had nothing to lose.
I tried Plenty of Fish in September 2015 and almost immediately my inbox was full of men in New York, New Jersey, and beyond expressing interest in me. While hopeful, sifting through their profiles was exhausting. There is no way (that I know of) to check and respond to emails without appearing “online” to the rest of the users, so you never really dig yourself out of the backlog of messages. Also, the mobile app resulted in me appearing “online” all the time, so I quickly uninstalled it. Most men on the site, like men in real life, weren’t looking for a relationship. They wanted to date, hook up, or have a friend, but many were not seeking a commitment.
I was on for about a month before meeting a guy that I really liked. I didn’t deactivate my profile, but I stopped logging in while he and I were dating. When the relationship ended in February 2016, I hopped back on the site. This time around I met more guys interested in a relationship… but I really wasn’t attracted to them. Some were physically unattractive but had great personalities, and others were sexy but acted like jerks (again, just like real life).
I decided to try another site, but still refused to pay a membership fee. OKCupid was a site my coworkers had success on, so I created a profile and gave it a shot. It was more of the same regarding the number of messages I received, except if was 99 percent white men in my inbox. While I don’t mind dating outside my race, that certainly is not my preference. I gave my number to one guy on OKC, and we texted for a bit with no follow-through after planning a first date. I didn’t have interest in anyone else on the website, so I stopped logging in and went back to POF.
After a while, I started dating another guy exclusively enough to stop logging into POF again, and it took a while for me to get back in the game after he and I stopped talking. Online dating takes so much effort, and it doesn’t seem worth it sometimes. Whenever I was ready to throw in the towel, I asked myself, “Well, what are you doing to do now?” Meeting men organically wasn’t working, and time waits for no man. Besides, I had been on POF for less than a year, and with all the breaks I took, it was probably only five months of actual online dating. I needed to hang on a little bit longer. So I tried again. This time around, there were more quality men messaging me, and my hopes were lifted. I gave my number out to a couple of guys, and one seemed particularly interested. We began dating, and quickly decided to be exclusive. Yay!
I was hesitant to delete my POF account, but it was time. When I finally completed the exit survey and bid the site adieu, it was bittersweet. I was happy to be in a relationship, but also dreading starting from scratch if it doesn’t work out. Of course, starting from scratch would mean a lot more than just creating a new profile. But deleting the account was symbolic. My POF adventure has come to an end (for now, at least), and a new chapter has begun! Wish me luck 😉