Welcome into my humble abode – and body, Mr. Bumble.  

When I signed up for Bumble, I assumed my first date would look a little more like a fun and flirty modern Rom Com and less like the “dead-man walking” wander towards my door that I was on. Alas, on- or offline, not every date is a smashing success and not every sexual encounter needs…

Enough of the ideological stuff (for now) let’s get into the stick of it.

So far, I’ve reflected on some of the weird and frustrating aspects of my five months within the Hive. But, now I want to share more of the personal side of my experiences using Bumble in a fumbling attempt to search, flirt, date and do what bunnies do. Please join me in a tantalizing travel…

Do you ever feel like Bumble is putting the sting back into the sex wars? #MeToo

I chose to go on Bumble because it came with the promise of a fem-forward, sex positive, not-so-stigmatized route towards dating, tristes and maybe something more solid. I appreciated Bumble’s appeal to professionals (or just people with functioning cortexes) and promise of a first-ever feminist-oriented algorithm and method of connecting. However, as I scrolled and…

After the photo comes the fear of failure (and the complete and utter disbelief this is what my dating pool looks like)

When you meet someone in person, you remark how cute their dimples are, how their laugh reminds you of an aesthetically-gifted Santa Claus and the way they roll up their sleeves to expose some seriously well-defined forearms. But, when you encounter that same potential heartthrob through the lens of dating apps, you risk missing out…