In 2023, after eight months of sailing across Europe, Ritabhash Bagchi, the 27-year-old mariner, decided to join the dating apps. Bagchi had a vibrant social life in Kolkata, but he felt finding dates through apps was something he always wanted to try. “It was nothing but the FOMO that compelled me to sign up,” says Bagchi, fresh out of a tumultuous breakup that happened when he was still on the ship. The blip sound of receiving new matches spiked up his adrenaline, but things would always fizzle, sometimes after initial exchanges, other times after days of talking. On a few occasions when the matches were converted into dates, the experience was not something he was hoping for. “The digital persona often misled me into making certain assumptions that differed vastly when it came to real-life personality, and unluckily the differences were irreconcilable in my experience,” says Bagchi, who has long deleted these apps from his phone.
Bagchi is not alone in sharing the dating app fatigue; more millennials and Gen Z are exploring other avenues to find potential dates than relying on dating apps. As swift as the rise of dating apps has been this decade, the fall seems to be even brisker, with many millennials and Gen Z taking things into their own hands, rather than depending on an algorithmic-driven method. In a Gen Z survey by Hinge, one of the popular dating apps, the fear of rejection was among the top-most concerns, followed by the fear of being perceived as cringe. “Sometimes it can feel difficult and intimidating to date, especially for daters with little to no experience. In today's dating world, people often don’t realise how normal rejection is, so it’s crucial you don't let it prevent you from making a powerful connection,” said Moe Ari Brown, Hinge’s Love and Connection Expert.
Older generations may be familiar with the sting of dating rejection, but younger people seem to have a harder time dealing with awkward encounters, perceiving them as moments of embarrassment. In today's digital age, where most interactions take place online, the distinction between personal and impersonal is becoming increasingly blurred, leading to heightened anxiety about negative dating experiences. Satyam Raj, a 23-year-old software engineer, initially joined dating apps with the hope of finding a meaningful connection but instead found himself encountering a series of disappointing and disheartening interactions. “I often matched with individuals who misrepresented themselves in their profiles, and this led to awkward and uncomfortable encounters when I met in person,” he says. Feeling disillusioned and frustrated, Satyam realised that the online dating world was not a place where he could find the genuine and authentic connection he was seeking. He decided to take a step back, focus on himself, and explore other avenues for meeting potential partners. “It was very hard to get dates on the app without subscribing to the premium model, and although I considered paying for it at one point, I decided against it. It eventually occurred to me the amount of time I am wasting here, and not to mention the concomitant anxiety. I deleted all the dating apps and started going out and meeting people instead,” says Satyam.
Since their emergence, dating apps have primarily belonged to the millennial cohort. The trend began with Tinder in 2012, and as years passed by, a plethora of new apps entered the market, each with a unique proposition. Bumble empowered women to initiate conversations; Hinge focussed on fostering meaningful connections; Raya catered to wealthy people looking for discreet experience, while Happn, the Indian app, let people find their crush in the places they love. Although they all have different USPs, the basic premise is the same, that is to find potential matches with mutual interest close to your location. Apps like Lex, Her, Scruff, and Feeld emerged to serve LGBTQIA+ and nonmonogamous individuals.
However, as time went on, the allure of these apps began to wane. Millennials who still engage with them are experiencing a sense of fatigue. There is a prevailing sentiment among current users that the heyday of dating apps has come to an end. In a recent TikTok video by Keara Sullivan, she aptly captured this sentiment by stating, “If you met your partner on a dating app two years ago, you caught the last chopper out of Nam.” You’d often find netizens disgruntled by online dating tweeting about ditching dating apps and meeting people the old way.
The proliferation of running clubs, reading circles, and running groups, and other social clubs in metropolitan cities also points out the noticeable shift. While not everyone joins to meet potential partners, there’s a considerable section of members in these social groups who join to feel a sense of community and are more open to dating someone from the same group. Anwesha, a 24-year-old digital marketer, found their current partner in a silent reading community. “It was not a planned decision, but after years of trawling my dates on apps like Tinder and Hinge and finding no great success because I don't look conventionally attractive, it was great to find someone with mutual interest and see things clicking,” says Anwesha.
There is a growing realisation that forging connections with potential partners through shared passions and hobbies can lead to more profound and authentic relationships. In a world saturated with superficial interactions facilitated by dating apps, there is a palpable yearning for genuine face-to-face communication. Meeting in person allows individuals to truly connect and ascertain their compatibility on a deeper level.