Un-Hinged

on deleting the app, but not the desire

I deleted Hinge. Again.

Since my second divorce in 2021, I’ve dabbled in dating. I had a hot girl summer in 2021 after losing 55 pounds, moving to a new city and cutting my hair short. Call me a cliché, I don’t care. I had a blast. Three situationships, a few one night stands, and a whole lot of sex….mostly mediocre. With the exception of one guy with abs I loved to run my hands over. We met every two weeks for dinner and sex at my place and may I say, dear reader, that after 5 decades on this planet, 2 marriages, and enough forays into the bedroom to know a thing or two, this was the best sex of my life. This man knew what he was doing. Until the magic three month mark arrived and it fizzled. That’s when you realize there’s not much going on other than sex and while delicious, it’s just not sustainable when you have nothing to talk about over dinner except the hot sex.

After my hot girl summer, I needed a break. I felt weary of men and their frustrating ways. Bye Hinge! Seeing the little ‘H’ disappear from my phone felt liberating. My subconscious breathed a sigh of relief. No more swiping like it’s a side hustle. No more checking to see if ‘he’ messaged me back. No more disappointment when a match disappeared after a few rounds of texting.

Since then, I’ve dipped my toe back into the app, only to make a hasty retreat a couple of days later, thankful for the reminder that the pool is shallow (unless I wanted to date guys that are my son’s age…which I most definitely don’t) and the water is tepid.

The last two years I’ve been intentionally celibate. It’s been great for me. De-centering men has been one of the most powerful and illuminating things I’ve done. For the most part, I’ve lived in a blissful bubble of minding my own damn business. Life felt simple, clear, and satisfying. Just me and my hot pink vibrator. No washboard abs, sure, but also no ghosting, no being disappointed, no horrifically obtuse texts asking WYD.

Then last month I felt that little niggling sense…am I ready again? I’m certainly not going to meet my King working from home, unless Amazon delivers them now. I felt ready for expansion, and something different. I decided to re-install the app. Do it for the plot! was my mantra.

I won’t get into what happened next in this essay, dear reader. That would require a level of fortitude I just don’t have on this Sunday morning. Stay tuned though….it’s coming. I may need a Vitamin IV first.

Let’s just say that I deleted Hinge again yesterday. And it got me thinking about what I really want.

Do I really want a man in my life again? Am I looking for a guy who will send me good morning texts and ask to meet for coffee and a walk? Do I really want to invest in a relationship, or a situationship, or great sex? Because any way you slice it, it’s an investment in time, energy and vulnerability. There’s a benefit and a cost and at this point, the balance sheet doesn’t come out in my favour. The math ain’t mathing.

Desire is something I haven’t given much thought to in my life thus far. I got married at 20, had three kids by 25, and spent most of my days being responsible for everyone else. Desire might have shown up in the form of an annual vacation, a girls weekend, or a new dress from Anthropolgie. But rarely have I felt deep, soul-stirring desire.

What happened? As little girls, we were big bundles of desire. We want candy, we want to wear our sparkly shoes to school. We want all our friends to come over on Saturday night, we want to become ballerinas, or explorers, or writers or musicians. We want to stay up late and watch the stars. We want hugs, twirls, and popsicles. Desire was easy. It was our birthright.

Then life starts life-ing and we’re told in millions of ways not to want. Disappointment tarnishes our dreams. Desire gets buried under duty.

And then one day we look around and wonder what it would even feel like to want something. Or to even know what we might want, if someone were to ask (not that anyone’s asking).

And it seems impractical. Irresponsible. Delusional.

Desire becomes inconvenient.

The days slip by as to-do lists, SMART goals, and chores.

Ew.

I believe that desire is dangerous. When a woman dares to desire, she’s stepping outside the rules of society. She becomes someone who is unmanageable. She starts being called high maintenance, or difficult, or demanding.

Because desire is a hungry mouth wanting to be fed. She’s a burning ache in the soul. She’s a longing that won’t be silenced.

I noticed something after deleting Hinge this time. I didn’t feel sad, or defeated, or disappointed. I felt empowered. I’m taking control of my life experience, and I’m saying, not this. And at the same time, I’m not pushing down my desires. Deleting the app doesn’t have to mean deleting my desire.

In fact, I’m going to ramp that shit up. I desire to fall in love because I never have. I desire to be in a healthy, beautiful partnership with someone I feel safe with. I desire companionship, whether with friends or lovers or soulmates (if that’s a thing…jury’s out on it for me).

I also know that the WHEN and the HOW are not up to me. What’s up to me is to fan the flames of desire and keep my heart open. How weird, after so many disappointments, that I would want to do that. And yet I do. And I don’t. But the part of me that does, is getting bigger than the part of me that doesn’t.

It’s radical to desire. It flies in the face of everything women have been told not to do.

What if we all just let our desires run around unfettered, like kids on a playground?

What if we just said fuck it and said what we desire…out loud….with our full chest?

Without a care in the world that it may or may not happen?

What if the whole point isn’t getting what we want….but wanting?

As for me, I’m going to go out and live today. I’m going to ride my bike, go to a bookstore, buy a hot ripe peach from the market, and eat it in the park under a tree. Those are today’s desires and I don’t need an app to have them.

What are some of your desires? Drop one in the comments. Consider it a tiny declaration.

xo

P.S. August is the Desire Edition inside The Society. Come join us.