The memory of Tinder unexpectedly announcing a match, or that little red dot appearing to signal a message, still raises my pulse. I was an addict. Matches weren’t just a concrete measure of approval; they promised excitement, adventure, another story to hear, perhaps the love of my life. If you’re interested in people and life, dating apps can be a treasure chest. An endless book full of stories no one could write as fiction.
Dopamine is a neurotransmitter involved in anticipating and pursuing rewards and learning from them. It isn’t simply a pleasure button. Anticipating a new match draws us back to the app, and approval gives us a reason to return. Other substances, including the body’s own opioids called endorphins, also play a part in pleasure. Their precise role in the feeling a dating-app notification produces can’t be inferred from the feeling alone.
The approval a dating app gives works like sugar or alcohol: you feel better for a moment, then need another dose. We can create a bubble in which we believe there are plenty of takers as soon as we decide to act. Control appears to be ours, although it isn’t.
Matches aren’t a queue of people waiting to enter your life. They’re people who liked your profile for one reason or another: a relatable sentence or a dog photo. Interest in the real you only becomes clear when you get to know each other. If you collect matches without writing to or meeting anyone, you build a glass wall between yourself and others. On your side you’re wanted and safe. They can see you through it, but nobody can get close enough to hurt you.
On the other side there is often someone who writes and hopes for an answer. Perhaps they’re looking for a partner, or at least a connection.
Wanting approval or a quick hit of pleasure isn’t weakness. It’s perfectly human. Seeking it at other people’s expense is another matter.