Good on the ‘gram is the new good on paper. He was the only guy I ever thought looked like real dating material. Years after meeting Peter, focusing on work and building up my Instagram grid of high-quality imagery strategically selected to showcase my: sense of fashion, my Equinox-sculpted muscular arms, and scenic travels on chic work trips, Billy found his way to my Instagram handle.
My heart was on full battery, but after this connection went lost, it was low-power mode from there on out. It’s a typical story for men on Instagram today, but at the time, it left me stunned. I began questioning why he wouldn’t be available to FaceTime certain nights, he avoided confirming dates for when I could come visit, and I watched my texts of longing go left on read. Distance is a real pain in the ass that no amount of poppers could dull. Obviously, this wasn’t going to last and I think we both knew that. Did that stop me from getting completely attached, sharing both personal stories and sexy photos, and even having official FaceTime dates? Of course not, because I had visions of us laying naked on a bearskin rug in a quaint log cabin of bliss. The downer was he had just moved back to his woodsy childhood home down South with no concrete plans to return to our urban jungle. “I watched my texts of longing go left on read.” He worked in publishing, and looked like a modern day Paul Bunyan with rugged charm and big muscles. Peter and I proceeded to message for weeks. At that time, I was desperate for some male attention, and like a sign from the social media gods, Peter messaged me a flame emoji (Très romantic!). Peter was fine! I was posting photos from a Miley Cyrus concert (2013 Miley twerking phase) with my arms flexed and a flattering pose. Years ago, before it was considered acceptable or even typical for a guy’s Instagram account to resemble, I got my first flirtatious DM from Peter. Here, I recount the biggest lessons below.* While ruminating over my past double taps and DMs, I found that I learned many lessons from four key relationships. My inner Carrie Bradshaw conjured these questions: “Did I subconsciously curate my Instagram account to double as a dating profile? Can a ‘like’ really lead to love? I couldn’t help but wonder, can I find a true connection when the truth has a filter on it?” With no planned agenda to find men through social media, somehow Instagram turned into my new dating app addiction.Īfter several failed connections on Instagram, I felt the need to put pen to paper (or I should say fingers to keyboard), pondering what I could have learned from these digital encounters. I deleted the apps off my phone, almost like a conscious uncoupling, questioning if I was the problem or the total strangers I found on the apps. Two years into using all social media apps that rhyme with “inder,” I have yet to find a partner – just a case of chlamydia (that was fun!). SEE ALSO: How Brooklyn became an international queer mecca He said “I love you” by month two, and self-assuredly proclaimed he fell out of love with me by month six. It all started with the first man I ever fell in love with, found on the now irrelevant ancient app of Ok Cupid. Almost every guy I’ve dated I met through a social media app.