Have you ever considered that online dating is a bit like going shopping for shoes at one of those shoe warehouses? Let’s just look for a minute at the similarities. When you open the app, there’s some initial selection of preferences; height, education, distance from you, etc. Then presto, you are immediately provided with a dizzying array of potential profiles to choose from.
Swipe left, swipe left. Ew, no – definitely left. Ah, hmmm. This one looks pretty good. But is it a catfish? Could someone that good looking be on an app like this seeking a partner? Ok, take a chance, swipe right. Fingers crossed but surely they have other options. As you continue along, you may find that what you thought you were looking for in a partner changes. You might find yourself thinking that maybe a nose piercing is not so bad after all. Or maybe, while you came looking for a relationship, a situationship could work. I mean, some of these people are HOT.
Browsing the aisles of the shoe warehouse is no different. Upon entering the store, you are met with another dizzying array – this time rows and rows of shoes, with single shoes perched on top of the rows. You gaze across the space, a pair or two catching your eye as you scan for the section that you thought you came for. You may be squarely in need of a new shoes for work. That section is way in the back. Along the way, you pass sneakers and sandals and boots. Hmm. Not what you came for, but maybe you should look at those too. It looks like they have some good ones. What about this pair over here that is half the price of the designer option five steps away. Does it look like too fake?
On both the app and in the warehouse, it is surprising how quickly you pare the array down to a shorter list of options. On the app, a handful of people are now messaging you. The chatting may go on for some weeks. In the store, you may have a netted bag slung over your shoulder filled with a handful of shoe boxes. You may be struck by the number of options. But there’s limited time, limited budget. Decisions must be made. In the store you may carry a particular box around for a bit, not sure whether you want to try that pair on. If you decide no, you may take the effort to put it back where it belongs. Or not. You might just dump it on a different shelf when you decide it’s not for you. On the dating app, you may gracefully exit a chat by saying we don’t seem like a match – or just ghost.
Eventually you have to confront the real test each time. You have to actually meet the person you have been chatting with. You have to go on an actual date. In the store, you try on the pair you like best. There are still probably other options lurking in the background both on the app and in the store. The dizzying array is still there, after all. If there were only one option, this could be easy. But in the back of your mind there is often the thought that maybe one of those others – maybe one you did not find yet in the shelves and profiles – would be better. This can make it harder to actually invest in what you have before you.
Having choices and options can be wonderful. It helps us see possibility and potential. Choices help us find and grow our dreams. But choices can also leave us feeling overwhelmed and confused. Parsing through the possibilities takes time and energy. In our busy world, it’s hard to make space to really study the options and make thoughtful choices. We put off making the necessary decisions as long as possible – sometimes missing opportunity. We may be swayed easily by the choices of others – thinking they must have some special ability to see the path forward more easily. The challenge is to stay with the dizzying array. We need to find our own voice to make a choice that fits.