“You didn’t really say anything about yourself in this.”
I’d just shown my one straight, male friend my Bumble bio. We were mid-dinner and he took a break from chewing to address this. His reaction seemed to suggest that I couldn’t blame my lackluster matches on the stats for response rates to black women on dating apps — I was, more likely, the problem. How? I wasn’t quite sure, but I needed to know.
“Wait, what do you mean?” I asked.
“I’m just saying your bio basically screams, ‘You’re trash., I’m certain of it.’ And gives absolutely no details about yourself.”
“I said I was tall.”
“True, but then you basically said, if you’re short…don’t bother. It’s like you’re trying to be funny–but from what I know about you, it’s a defense mechanism.”
I was not defensive…I wanted commitment, dammit! Plus, as someone who’s had my fair share of not-so-great sexual experiences, I was totally over the arrogance of men who believed women would want to have casual sex with someone who didn’t care enough to locate the clitoris.
“Look, I’m not here for ‘waste-my-time-2018.’ And most of y’all want our time and bodies for so little in return.”
At this moment, he took personal offense.
“That’s a bold assumption,” he shot back. “When I met my girlfriend, I was looking for something! You always say I’m the cynical one, but I don’t know…”
“But wait, if I were a cheese, what would I be?”
He looked at me, blinking, before returning to his ramen. He didn’t know where to begin.
As someone open to criticism, I quickly took his advice and typed up a sincere account of my personal history and traits. I’m from Ohio. I ran track in college and moved to LA where I am passionately pursuing my writing career. I love the outdoors, my new puppy, spending time with family, and I am tall.
He took a look at my new bio, laughed, then said, “Better. So, do you trust me?” I did. Then he got to swiping for me.