For years, I’ve resistant to the idea of using Tinder. The way I saw it, there were already so many uninteresting men trying to win my affections on social media, why would I want to add any more disappointment to the mix?

It took a dare from a visiting cousin to convince me to finally give in and download the app. I didn’t want to deal with any more men–despite my desire to join team ‘love-lives-here’–and my perception of Tinder was jaded by the common belief that it was a hook-up app… designed to make no-strings sex easier to get.

I got total catfish vibes from a few of them.

In spite of all this, I downloaded the app anyway, put my best pictures up and spent an entire week crafting the perfect bio: equal parts witty, funny, intriguing and inviting.

Turns out others didn’t have quite the same taste when it came to crafting their profiles. The first two days were an endless stream of absolute NOs.

Some men have weird ideas about what makes them attractive to the opposite sex. Like these guys:

– Game hunters posing next to their trophies or just dudes who love taking pictures with wild animals.

– Men who looked way too old to be within the age range I set. 32 my ass!

– Boys who were too pretty to be real. I got total catfish vibes from a few of them.

– Men whose potential was let down by the contents of their bio. They were either uninteresting, too good to be true, riddled with spelling mistakes and grammatical errors or overtly looking for hook-ups.

– Guys who just looked way too creepy in their pictures (like they were planning to kidnap and kill you) or that they might be assholes, like the dude who created this piece of trash video.

– Shirtless guys who forgot that we might want to know what their faces look like. Some days, it just felt like an endless stream of abs. It took me back to the days of Cartoon Network shows like Cow and Chicken, Powerpuff Girls and Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends with characters whose faces we never saw.

– Guys who might be transformers as all I saw in their pictures were cars. Seriously, is there a person behind this account or nah?

– Guys whose profiles consisted entirely of memes and quotes (and NO pictures of themselves). Again, is there a person behind this account or nah?

– White guys who were in the mood to satisfy a jungle fever fetish. There will be quite a few of those. Tread carefully

– And the guys who were clearly doing it for the ‘gram. You know, the nonchalant picture of me talking on the phone while crossing the street and simultaneously showing you my watch, outfit and possibly, my car. No thanks.

The first time I actually matched with one guy I found somewhat attractive, I damn near dropped my phone.

By day three, I was ready to give up but curiosity and the addictive nature of the gamified app kept me going. Fortunately, the potentials started trickling in. The only problem was that I barely checked it after day three because I already have enough apps to keep up with.

The first time I actually matched with one guy I found somewhat attractive, I damn near dropped my phone. Although I had come this far, in that moment, I realised that I was NOT ready to do what I had set out to do.

I then closed the app and went and got drunk in preparation for my return. I tend to overthink, so questions and totally impossible scenarios were swimming around my brain.

By the end of the week, I had matched with close to 15 guys. Within two days, I had unmatched a significant number of those guys for a number of reasons.

One guy immediately started talking about how he’d love to hear me moan. That presumptuousness put me off. Another made me suffer a week of mundane conversation to suggest that we go skinny dipping the next day. That also put me off. Lucky for me, Tinder no longer allows people to send pictures so no unsolicited d*** pics for me.

And as petty as this may sound, one guy (a director who had been a real life crush at some point) used TOO MANY emojis in conversation but showed no effort in keeping the conversation going so I also let him go and quickly lost that crush.

A lot of them just went silent after a while and I never bothered to pick the conversation back up again so that’s a problem that sorted itself out. Those that didn’t get cut were quite eager to get my number and move to WhatsApp, which I was reluctant about because it’s harder to block them from contacting you if they turn out to be idiots.

I had Tinder for about three weeks and I was over it, but downloading and using it wasn’t a complete exercise in futility. Thanks to the app, I joined ‘love-lives-here’ and I am currently happily infatuated with one of those ‘too pretty to be real’ types.

It turns out that in addition to being beautiful , he is supportive, hilarious, intelligent and consistent. My family and friends like him and he is slowly chipping away at the negative view of men that was created and fortified by my past relationships.

But if it all goes wrong, it’ll be back to Tinder.

This is part of a guest editorship series by Shingai Darangwa, Alex Kamutondole and Thebe Kadiege who are bringing you the best new culture and news from Johannesburg.