Swipe Fatigue & Sleaze Parade: A Soft Girl’s Guide to Tapping Out Without Tapping Out

I downloaded a dating app (maybe that in itself was a mistake; I am still debating).

Made a profile. Chose a photo where I looked like a snack but also like I could organise a parent-teacher conference and shut down a corporate boardroom. Balance.

I matched with a guy. Let’s call him “Anthony” because that’s literally his name.

We started with banter. I led with pizza toppings because I’m a lady, not a lunatic.
He responded. I smiled. Things felt promising…

…for exactly 5 minutes.

Then he pivoted to:

“Do you live alone?”
“Maybe I come over when the kids are in bed ;)”
“Share pics with me…”

Sir, this is a Wendy’s.
Also, I just told you I have kids. And your response was to invite yourself over like some creepy bedtime burglar?

I wanted romance. He gave me Netflix-and-chill-vibes-on-clearance. The sleaze jumped out faster than a dude trying to dodge child support.

And here’s what I learnt (between rage-blinking, consulting with my trusty sidekick Chat GPT, and blocking him):

It wasn't me – it was alllllll him. Crusty and dusty and all the nasty.

Confidence isn't a straight line. For me, it wobbles, especially after you've been through emotional abuse, an in-home separation, and still managed to keep two little humans alive, one of whom licks glass doors (I have to be human somehow).

I am learning that not being ready doesn't equate to not being worthy. I’m allowed to want softness. Slowness. Connection. But I’m also allowed to want a man who doesn’t treat boundaries like a speed bump.

And, really, saying NO is the biggest flex. Not because I don't want love, but because I know what mine should look like, and it isn't sleazebags looking for a hole in one.

So tonight, I’m not going on a date.
I’m not beating myself up.
I’m not shrinking to fit inside some dude’s “you up?” box.

I’m reclaiming my time, reheating leftovers, and adding extra pineapple to my pizza because I like it sweet, cheesy, and on my terms.

To the next one?
Step correct. Or step aside.
Mama’s got standards, sass, and WiFi. That’s all I need right now.