Tinder, that unavoidable part of a singleton’s life. The app that I hoped I would never need to see again. Fat chance, bish!
I spent careless singleton’s life throughout my 20’s, which was in fact great. I was on a roll and didn’t have the time or the interest to settle down with anyone. But when the grand 30 started to approach threateningly, the sneaky yearning to spend evenings at home cuddling someone appeared.
One thing you should know about me is that I am picky beyond any measure. When it comes to men, they can count themselves extremely lucky for being allowed to attend a date with me. Slight exaggeration perhaps? Nope, not in the slightest.
While living in Central Europe I definitely counted Tinder as an opportunity; even if the local men weren’t of interest to me, the place was teeming with expats and tourists from all over the world, all year round. I could take my pick.
But then I moved to Estonia, and very quickly came to realize that Tinder can also be a threat: it has a reverse effect on you here; it makes you angry, it’s that bad.
I struggled particularly much through Winter times; dark and lonely. I found myself pining for Summer just for the tourist season to begin so that I could find myself a date again. But when the Summer did come, and I sometimes had 3 dates a week, I quickly grew weary.
I didn’t want to tell one more person what I did for work, why I moved to Estonia and what my plans are for the future. I didn’t need one more person to tell me that my eyes were beautiful (can you purrlease come up with something a tad more original??), and I couldn’t stand another awkward goodbye after I had deemed the date unworthy of spending the night with.
But then, a miracle! I met a Finnish guy who had just moved to Estonia. The relationship started slowly, but it did start. I fell in love and saw myself finally settling down. And then it ended. Like WHAM!
I was in shock, I panicked, I went into this catatonic state where you literally feel nothing. All I knew in my panicked mind was that “I DON’T WANT TO BE ALONE!”
A week after the break-up I downloaded Tinder. It took me weeks, though, to find someone agreeable enough to go on a date with. A tourist, of course. It was a great date! Until I found out later on that he had a girlfriend, AND even more later he took it upon himself to insult a friend of mine.
You can call me whatever you like, you can beat me up, and you can be sure I will get through it. But YOU DO NOT insult my friends and family! Amen.
So, that was over before it even started. After that my head finally started to get onboard with what exactly had happened that Spring; the ugly reality of the breakup hit me hard and I went into a dark place.
I deleted Tinder, because all it did for me was bring me down even further and made me sooo angry at the unfairness of the whole situation, and the fact that I would never find anyone good enough in the country I lived in.
The only saving grace for me was to travel. A trip to Milan with my best friend was a perfect getaway from the everyday awfulness of my life in Estonia, and then came the trip to Edinburgh.
Now, Tinder can be a threat, but it can also be an incredible opportunity, and it really only depends on where you use it!
I installed Tinder already at Tallinn airport, and within 3 hours from landing to Edinburgh, had a date agreed for the coming Friday. And what I found hilarious about it, was the fact that he was a soldier. “I’m back, baby!”
When I studied in Aberdeen almost 10 years ago, I had some sort of a magnet effect for soldiers; they found me, I found them, wherever they were. And apparently, that magnet effect is still on. But it was only Wednesday and that date was agreed for the coming Friday. So, I continued Tindering.
By Wednesday evening I had secured a lunch date with a rugby player for Thursday. And since he was busy for the evening, and I didn’t fancy spending the evening alone, I returned to Tinder straight after the lunch. It didn’t take me long to agree on a wine tasting with a Dutch pilot for the same evening.
And then on Friday I met the ex soldier, these days fire fighter (yes, ladies, YES!! :D) We went hiking on the Flotterstone mountains just outside of Edinburgh. And by the evening I felt extremely down for having to return to the “country with no men” (#personalopinion).
Now, why is Tinder so different in Scotland versus Estonia. Obviously the first factor is looks. Tinder is a completely shallow app, so we can’t ignore the fact that looks play a big part. Where majority of Estonian men are tall, thin and dangly with escaping hairlines, Scots are muscly, broad, and as manly as you can get. I LIKE!
But fret not, it’s not just about looks. I love reading those little bios under the photos. I mean, I love reading them in Scotland. I laughed my ass off going through them, the sense of humour that dem people have is something I look up to immensely. They don’t take themselves too seriously, and fuk they’re funny!
Comparing to Tinder in Estonia… Okay, there’s no comparison, because very few Estonians have written anything in their bios. They might have the Estonian flag emoji there to indicate what language they speak… I’ll pass.
When my plane landed in Tallinn, the first thing I did was uninstalling Tinder. I’m also not interested in going to meaningless dates with tourists again. Yeah, I might get a free dinner, but that free dinner is not good enough an exchange for enduring awkward conversations and goodbyes again.
The good thing is that Scotland reminded me of the fact that there is a point to Tinder. Just not here.