Like a true millennial I met my boyfriend on Tinder and I refuse to be ashamed of that

Tinder is mainly used for finding no strings attached hook-ups.  You know the age old tale, boy gets Tinder, girl gets Tinder, boy matches with girl, and that is how all modern day booty calls are created. But I was on Tinder because I genuinely wanted to meet people since I was new to Leeds. A few of my friends were using it so I decided that I’ll give it a go, why not? But after days and days of swiping left and right, I was getting sick of cheesy pickup lines and guys asking if I wanted to “come over and have a good time”, aka have a good ol’ shag. Two guys even started the conversation with “hey babe, where do you live?”, followed by an excessive amount of heart eyes emojis. As if I’m going to tell you that, back off mate

Just when I was about to delete the app, a guy with an arm tattoo and a lip ring that just screams punk/skater messaged me and we instantly bonded over American Horror Story, tattoos and food. Although we both sucked at replying, we managed to stay in touch and eventually added each other on Snapchat. The more we talked, the more I realised how much we had in common: our sense of humour and our love for Gordon Ramsay, to name a few.

When I was on Tinder, I would always ask guys one question: “how tall are you?”. I tend to put emphasis on height when defining what attractiveness is, like all girls pretty much, but all of this changed with him. I didn’t ask him about his height, I was simply enjoying our conversation.

This online friendship went on for about a month and a half before we decided to meet up at Parkinson steps. (No, nothing sexual happened if that’s what you were thinking.) Just like with all other Tinder meet-ups, it was a nerve racking moment since first impressions always matter. I still remember how much I was panicking, the pressure of picking out an outfit that wouldn’t make me look like a slag but also not too tense and uptight was seriously difficult. Even though it wasn’t a date, it’s interesting to see how the dynamics of an online friendship are similar to that of a “real” one – the nervousness of hanging out for the first time.

After that, we spoke every single day and hung out whenever we can. We went on spontaneous late night adventures, photography trips, and we even snuck onto the golf course to look at Leeds’ skyline. We just clicked as friends. Eventually, he asked me out on Valentine’s Day with a hand drawn card that wrote ‘dinner @ 5:30pm?’. He then said ‘I made you a card because I was too shy to ask you out in person.’ He even made reservations at a Japanese restaurant because he knew that it is my favourite cuisine of all times. Who would’ve thought that all of this happened because of Tinder?!

Even though I was having an amazing time – bonding over our mutual love for Japanese food – I was reluctant and embarrassed to tell my friends how I met him because I understood the stigma attached to Tinder and its users, that it’s only for horny and desperate people. I’ve seen enough cyber crime shows to know that society thinks online relationships can’t be “valid” because they’re based entirely on superficial things like appearance or money. Or that they’re not “real” relationships because they don’t progress like relationships do in films. Ours is nothing like the scenes where I drop my stuff and our hands touch as he helps me pick it up, or how we are best friends who then turn into lovers. Ours is a 21st century relationship, a truly millennial relationship.

Sure, Tinder and online culture isn’t for everyone but we shouldn’t judge the seriousness of someone’s relationship based on this factor. I think that if you want to be on Tinder and use it as a platform for hook-ups, relationships or simply just to meet new people, then by all means go for it. Who cares what anyone else thinks anyway? Nowadays, we are so dependent on technology to communicate and Tinder is just one in a million ways to do so. Once I’ve realised that it is normal to meet people through Tinder, I didn’t mind as much when people ask how we met. Sure, some obviously felt uncomfortable and smiled awkwardly, but some thought it was fucking adorable.

We’ve been dating for 4 months now and couldn’t be happier. We’re even planning on giving long distance relationship a go because of my year abroad in Japan. Ultimately, how and where we met can’t define our relationship, and we sure won’t let others define it for us. Online relationships are not lacking in any way and are just as valid as ones that are offline. No one should be embarrassed about it.

So can Tinder lead to a serious relationship? Hell yeah!