Grindr is such a cesspool honestly. That app brings to light a lot of seriously regressive issues in gay culture and societal culture in a broader sense. Initially I think that gay culture was seated so far outside of heterosexual culture that people encouraged each other to live outside of limiting roles. Now it seems to me that gay culture has created their own roles just as limiting as those in heteronormative society if not more so. Fuck that shit.
It’s so sad that, in tearing down walls between ourselves and heteronormative society, we have built our own walls against each other. Something that has always bugged me which is just augmented by Grindr.
We’ve all been there. Early evenings disappearing into early mornings, updating our profile pictures and receiving countless requests to “suq” one of our 45 year old neighbours while cracking into a can of diet coke, and doing an art therapy colouring book (we all got one for christmas right?).
Of course, I’m talking about everyone’s favourite gay “social networking” app. From the get go we are exposed to the likes of ‘Bareback Barry’ and ‘Top Daddy Bear’, who are undeniably using Grindr for its sole purpose of a quickie. Whilst there is nothing wrong with this, as I’m all up for sexual liberation (although Barry may need to get his priorities straight), I can’t help but wonder when we, as gay men, allowed this app to define us.
Let’s start with “Tribes”. Now these have been used to ‘classify’ gays for decades only now we have more, thanks to the lovely developers at Grindr. Today we can list ourselves as a Geek, Jock, Leather, Otter, Rugged, Bear, Clean-Cut, Trans and Twink - on a side note, when did being ‘Cut’ make you cleaner than anyone else? - How audacious Grindr (I’m aware of the real meaning)!
Whilst I understand fetishes, I don’t understand how people became fetishes and why a social media app and our community have decided that these are the categories, and you must fit into them. Imagine how degrading it would be if Tinder allowed users to filter matches by ‘Big Tits’, ‘Skinny Girl’, ‘Big Girl’or ‘Hairy Girl’? (Idk, you get the point).
I’m no opinion forcing radical but I’m certain that infatuation with apps like Grindr have led to an obstacle for dating in the gay community. Why do we objectify ourselves with this human categorization? When did people of ‘deviant’ sex and gender identities, who have historically been at the forefront of challenging societal ‘norms’ and roles, start shaming one another?
P.S. Despite my views, I just looked down at my phone next to my laptop and I’ve had Grindr open the entire time I’ve been writing this. Sadly, no message from ‘Top Daddy Bear’.
It’s the time of year when having an extra person in your bed becomes a necessity rather than a desire. A need that cannot be met with Kinder Buenos and a stern talk to yourself in a full length mirror.
Yes January, a month that we meet with anticipation for self-renewal and repeatedly see the phrase “new year new me” plastered all over our news feeds. I met this anticipation for a “new me” by continuing a search for love that began in August of the previous year.
After lengthy conversations running well past 2:00am every evening, for the last two months, about ridiculous “hits” of the noughties, british comedy gold and a mutual love of self-loathing, I found myself on a first date (again).
The usual ensued, drinks in multiple (ridiculously expensive, poorly decorated) bars, lengthy chats much like the above, staying out incredibly late. This was a good date, right?…right! So good, I was invited on a second. By which point I had decided, this guy was unlike any I had met before.
We continued to chat every day until our second date, a week later. This time exchanging messages that you would only exchange with someone you considered a serious option for your future bed warmer. This did include a “bomb in the water” message that declared “…if we don’t work out romantically, please can we be friends, I get on with you so well.” Whilst this message threw me, the follow up of the “not that I’m not feeling it romantically” message, reassured me that this could work.
The second date arrived, this time I was invited to join as he competed in a stand up comedy competition. The romance immediately stolen by his overwhelming fear of being drawn out as the last comic to perform, the majority of the evening was spent staring into a pint glass, reassuring him that he was not a complete failure and telling him that he could “do this”. In spite of this I still felt happy to be there, maybe it was the months of getting to know each other but it didn’t feel like a second date.
One hour, and three pints closer to the bottom of the Peroni barrel his moment came, 5 minutes later it was over and his fear out of the window. Obviously the rest of the night was consumed with questions about the performance and waiting for the finalists to be announced, unfortunately he wasn’t one of them.
After parting ways somewhere on the Northern Line, I received a message that thanked me for coming with him and declaring how “nice” I was for doing just that. The following day, I received almost an exact clone of the previous message, only this time the paragraph that followed was the one that we all fear…
“So listen, not meaning to be a douche, but I’m not sure we’re going down a romantic path any more. I hope that’s ok?”
A message so simple and predictable, it was a wonder that it wasn’t sent after the first encounter. Why waste all of that time? My time. Why did I continue, knowing this was coming?
After delving into an almost break-up level of conversation I found out the reasons why….“I’m just not sure I could commit to being a top”…
Oh, the issue that only straight people with mangled, expendable parts would ever face, being perfect in every way for each other but lacking the ability to fuck them. I’d like to say this didn’t happen a lot, but it does. Most gay men can’t see past this sexual obstacle and refuse to compromise on this for a chance at happiness, instead we put arrow emojis on our grindr profiles and open ourselves up (sometimes literally) for a world of sexual pageantry and emotional abandonment.
Herein lies the point of this extremely drawn out post. Why do we allow our “roles’ to define us and obstruct the more important aspects of relationships? Surely if we spend our lives literally looking for the piece to fit in the puzzle we will end up puzzled.
