Dear Tinder, where has all the love gone?

Dear Tinder,

I really thought we might have something special. You promised me love, good looks and excitement. But you just didn't deliver.

At first it was great, I'll admit. You were intoxicating. Swiping right and seeing "it's a match" go across the screen felt like winning the Mark Six.

But, as with winning the actual Mark Six, the chances of success weren't great. Match after match either didn't make a move, or the conversations went nowhere. And while I tried to avoid the "playas" who uploaded pics of their oiled six packs, some slipped through the net.

Coffee Meets Bagel was no better. Deeming me to be "underperforming", it threatened to give me worse matches if I didn't talk to the ones it had already chosen for me.

Insecurity set in. I blamed myself. Is it me? Am I not cute enough? Not funny? Not interesting? That's how I was judging the guys; by their carefully curated photos, university pedigrees, job specs, height, hobbies. All of which made it easy to skip past people who might have been wonderful in real life.