I remember being bored at 2 a.m. in 2014 and watching SoulPancake’s, “Tinder: The Game of Finding Love‬.” I had never heard of Tinder, but it sounded like a fun and easy concept. Swipe left if you’re uninterested in a person or swipe right if you’re digging what their small biography and a few pictures show you.

I swiped left a couple of times, but when I finally swiped right, I got an instant “You’re a Match” message. This rush of adrenaline shot through my veins. Suddenly, I got addicted to the “game” pretty fast.

Part of the addiction was the ease of Tinder. I could swipe right on a hundred faces and it didn’t matter if all of them matched with me. In fact, I couldn’t even remember half the faces I swiped right on.

The other, probably most impactful, reason for this addiction was that someone found me attractive.

As shallow as that seems, it’s true. We live in a world where we are constantly judged by our appearance, and I never felt attractive enough.

I relished in the feeling that someone else swiped right because of how I looked in my few filtered photos. It was a bonus if they commented on my biography too. However, even if my match and I never talked, I’d settled for the mere fact that I felt good.

In my experiences with attraction, either one person is attracted to me but I don’t reciprocate the feeling, or I’m attracted to someone else but think they’re way out of my league.

To finally have a system where we’re both physically attracted to one another seemed too good to be true. In my mind, I could work on the emotional attraction.

Little did I know this wasn’t the case. It’s taken me a long time to realize that online dating, especially with Tinder, is a poor way to finding true substantial love.

In an article in Psychology Today, psychologist Key Sun, Ph.D., examines research that shows there are two problems with online dating. It lacks actual in-person interaction, and it does not help heal the emotional troubles of some online daters.

I didn’t meet my first match until about three months into our “relationship.” There were many factors that contributed to our delayed meeting, like the fact I was heading to college, but our relationship was mostly text and Skype based.

In retrospect, I see we were both emotionally damaged and went to Tinder as a means for distraction. It created a heavily dependent relationship. While we fell for one another emotionally, much of our relationship turned into a purely physical one.

After two years, I had to end it. I wasn’t happy.

Turning back to Tinder after our breakup wasn’t the best idea. But again, it filled the emptiness in me. It validated the fact that someone wanted me too.

I literally had people at my fingertips, which is why online dating also makes people disposable. Instead of feeling the pressure to settle for someone, now more than ever, there’s an access to an almost limitless amount of options. If I didn’t like one person I could “un-match” and move on as quickly as I found them.

The thing is, only a real personal connection can create the feeling of love. I’m not saying online relationships don’t work out. Tinder merely masked my insecurities — it never truly got rid of them.

For many, online dating is like putting a Band-Aid over a large wound. It provides the temporary relief of confidence.

One should never rely on the swipe of a card to determine their self-worth. Loving yourself is a process. This process won’t happen overnight.

There will be days you might take one step forward but two steps back. Whenever I go through a rough patch in relationships, I turn to Tinder. Each and every time I do, I’m in search of answers that I know I won’t find from other people. I’m searching for answers and love that only I can give myself.

The most important aspect to remember is college is the time to experiment with your identity, to explore your likes and dislikes and to discover the gems that make you a treasure.

Take your time in finding the reasons to love yourself. The moment you do, life’s rollercoaster might be just a little bit easier to ride.

Isabella Ong is a sophomore television, radio and film major. Her column appears weekly in Pulp. She can be reached on Twitter @isabella_ong.

Published on March 30, 2016 at 8:37 pm