4 Reasons I Still Don't Use Grindr

If you're a gay man, you've probably already heard of the infamous dating app Grindr. (If you haven't, you truly live in your own world and, no sarcasm, I'm so envious and in serious awe.) It's the app that has veritably swept a nation of queer men and made dating and hooking up convenient for tons of bored, horny gays on the go. All joking aside, people use it for lots of different reasons and I respect that...but I still choose not to use it myself.

If your immediate response is "Who cares?" that's totally fine, because you probably don't have to care about what I have to say anyway. If you love the app and were looking for a hate read, sorry to break it to you, but I'm also not trying to judge people who peruse Grindr on the regs. What I'm really trying to do is create a dialogue in which people who don't use Grindr have a space to discuss the issues and triggers the app presents them with. Grindr (and countless other online dating/hook-up services) has become such a cultural norm among modern gays, but there are still many people who are still not using it. And I'm one of them.

Everyone's reasons are different (I can only speak to my own), and I'm not trying to cast judgment (because I am no better than anyone else), but let's explore some of the reasons why Grindr is just not a thing in my life.

1. The app can be incredibly homonormative

The first time I downloaded Grindr, I was super excited to get to see other available gay people around me. I was still in the community-forming stage at that point and was just giddy at the idea of having other people I could be gay with.

What I found when I downloaded the app hit me deeply.

NO FEMS
NO FAT
NO BLACK PEOPLE

I was shocked to see such blatant and widespread prejudice in the preferences of the men around me (in the Philadelphia area). It was as if people were "shopping" for people as opposed to trying to get to know them. In the past I've had my own struggles with homonormativity, preferring masculine men to feminine ones, but I learned that attraction is moral and political. For one, if you set such preferences, you give other people the right to do the same. If you don't want to date someone of color, you give white people and people of color the complete, justifiable right to deny you based on the color of your skin. The simple fact is, when you declare yourself not attracted to a type of person, you are promoting prejudice, which is nothing more than the act of judging a person or group of people before you know them. Unless you know every black person on the planet, you can't logically say you're not attracted to any of them.

This system of hierarchies and societal trends turned me off me from Grindr immediately (so much so that I even wrote about it). What I wanted from Grindr was a sense of community, but what I found was a lot of people setting preferences like they were ordering food off of a menu. It wasn't for me.

2. Where's the romance?

I'm not saying you can't find love on Grindr (anything is possible, right?). I'm also not saying the majority of people who use the app are looking for serious relationships. I'm a very romantic person and found that the speed with which conversations moved on Grindr was far too fast. I'd feel like I barely knew someone before they were inviting me out to dinner or to their house. It threw me for a loop.

There's no shame in quick relationships. Some people move faster than others, and that's okay. Again, it just wasn't for me. I prefer the tension that IRL conversations force upon you; the kind that makes you think before you speak and makes you awkward. I feel like people are more themselves in person because on an app, people have time to say the things they think people want to hear. People can create the personas they wish to be and avoid the very real parts of themselves that they think people won't like.

3. Men are scary

I weigh around 105 lbs. Most adult men weigh more than me. People can say whatever they want online. People can use and send pictures that aren't their own. I know I sound like a paranoid mess with a superiority-complex, but the reality is that I have one life and I'd rather not risk it for a stranger I met through an app.

It's true that you never know what people are like even if you know them in real life, but it's also true that rape and sexual violence can (and does) happen to gay men too. These things don't only happen to women. I know it's a stretch and that people will say there's always risks in life, and because that's true I try not to take unnecessary risks. I'm sure there are plenty of safe and kind people on Grindr, but I'm too worried to take a chance to find out. I don't have the trust level or confidence required to really enjoy the app. Maybe that's my loss.

4. Sex isn't really all that important to me

I'm team sex positivity. I think if people want to bang on the table, in a church, on the stairs, in a park, or however, wherever they want, that's fine. No one has a right to tell people what to do with their body as long as all parties involved are consenting and safe.

For some people, though, sex just isn't worth all the time and effort. I'm one of those people. Maybe my hormones never kicked in.