I was struggling on dating apps – then let a man revamp my profile

‘Let me have a look’, asked my male friend Charlie – reaching out for my phone.  

It was a Friday evening and talk among my group of friends had turned, as it so often does, to our dating lives. Specifically, my lack of one.  

That was when Charlie, who is happily coupled up, asked to see my phone in the hopes that he could offer some advice on my dating profile.  

I was mortified.  

It felt like an invasion of privacy and, quite frankly, a little patronising.  

Nonetheless, I reluctantly handed over my phone with the dating app open for him to browse.  

Despite my initial embarrassment, and his admittedly blunt feedback, I eventually came to realise that my male friends could, in fact, be a huge help.  

I watched as Charlie scrolled through my photos and prompts on Hinge, all of which I had curated specifically to attract a male suitor. 

Despite being very proud of the line ‘We’ll get along if: You like cuddles and chaos’, he deemed it cringe and deleted it along with a few other images he decided were ‘unnecessary’. 

This direct approach was new to me, however, after considering the dating deficit I had been experiencing in my life, I decided to ignore my fear and accept his advice. 

And I was correct in doing this, because I did need a fresh new perspective.

I’ve been on dating apps for almost five years and have found myself preferring Hinge out of all the others.

Mostly because my friends told me it’s the app most appropriate for finding a real relationship. Sadly, however, besides pointing to the successes of others, I can’t offer any personal evidence towards Hinge’s ability to play Cupid. 

Outside of dating apps, my first boyfriend, who I dated for just over a year when I was 20 years old was sensible, trusting, but in the end incompatible.

After him, there were a string of useless but thrilling situationships which lasted far too long and provided a multitude of comical stories to keep my friends entertained. 

At that point, dating apps became a much-needed addition to my life.

It’s not like I haven’t gone through my profile with friends before – just never my male ones. I’ve always turned to my girlfriends to help decide what goes into my dating profiles.

We sift through pictures of ourselves, tell one another we look gorgeous, and then create some witty comment to accompany the photo. It’s a comforting process, a form of unconditional validation, though none of us will admit to it.  

To get guys involved in this process felt wrong, I assumed doing so would be like asking my friends whether or not they found me attractive or if they themselves would want to date me.  

So, since the very start of my dating life, guidance on how to improve my romantic prospects was solely sourced through my female friends or fiction. 

I’ve come to the realisation that I was wrong – understanding now that there is always value in a variety of perspectives.  

As Charlie held my phone, I watched as he closed Hinge and opened my camera roll. I objected at first, almost ripping the phone from his hands in the process, but I gave in and allowed him to begin his attempt at rebranding my dating life.

Within ten minutes, I had a new profile.  

I had never experienced such a blunt, honest, and speedy recreation of my profile. Such an activity would usually involve a night of brainstorming with my girlfriends, and there he was, doing it all before I’d even finished my drink.  

When Charlie handed me back my phone, I was surprised. He chose photos I would never have chosen myself, photos I never expected him to like. He favoured simplicity over sexy and natural over made-up. 

I realised that my dating profile had been curated by my warped understanding of what I thought men wanted to see – what I assumed they wanted. 

So, I became conflicted on how I should be portraying myself online. I wanted a serious relationship but countless profiles I saw from men warned they wanted a girl ‘who didn’t take themselves too seriously.’

It’s a tricky balance to present yourself as a fun night out and a long-term girlfriend all in the space of six images and a few prompts.  

And yet, that’s exactly what he did. 

Despite the awkwardness of it all, I’ve ended up with a profile I’m now rather fond of. The photos are far more me and my prompts, though still relatively cringe, manage to reflect my humour quite successfully. What at first had me nervous and scared, turned out to benefit me immensely. 

I don’t believe it’s because men know more about what men want; one man can never speak for all men. But what really mattered was that he was coming from a different perspective.

I’m not going to lie and say I’ve found the love of my life since changing my Hinge profile. It would also be untrue to say the type of men now sending likes or the occasional rose are far more my type than they were before – but what has changed is my confidence.

The conversations and dates feel more rewarding, now I know they have matched a more authentic version of me.

I suggest you go to friends, sisters and brothers, parents, or grandparents – for advice on dating, or anything else for that matter. There is no limit to the amount of guidance that can aid your experiences.

It may feel embarrassing at first but, in my experience, it’s always worth swallowing your pride, challenging your perspectives, and handing over the reins to your dating profile.

You never know what might happen.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Ross.Mccafferty@metro.co.uk. 

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