Tinder, Hinge, Bumble…rinse, repeat. For us, our black women navigate the dating jungle of London in their mid-twenties, so these apps can feel like scrolling through a never-ending catalog of mediocre, micro-attacks and mixed messages. But hey, at least you get group chat content, right?
Let’s be real. Dates in 2025 are not like our mothers told us to expect from us. No one will meet “The Nice Guy of the Church.” We meet Darren from 28, 5’11 (but in real life, definitely 5’9). Hard pass, Darren.
App Trap
When I spoke to 25-year-old Tanya, a graphic designer at Brixton, she said she would remove the hinge and redownload every other Sunday. “I call it my toxic situation,” she laughed. “Like, I know it’s not good for me, but sometimes I just want attention…even if it’s finished with a ghost.”
Does it sound familiar? Is this stop-start cycle of hoping for this time just a hit with another guy who says, “I don’t usually date black girls, but you’re cute”? please. Take the flooded tribute elsewhere.
We are not loud, we are realistic. Because for black women, the dating pool is not the same as our black friends. We all know that black women are the group who are least likely to receive likes and messages on dating apps. And in London, a city full of “diversity”, somehow the real connections are short, so we can feel visible and invisible at the same time.
DMS Microaggression
Let’s talk about subtle racism. The comment disguised a compliment. “You’re so exotic,” “Are you mixed?” What’s worse, “I’ve always wanted to try black girls.” We’re not Nando’s baby dishes.
Hackney’s retail manager, Leila, 26, shared her experience of matching with a man who seemed decent. wtf!
“I just didn’t match so I logged off at night,” she said. “I felt I needed a shower.”
You don’t need to code switches to make yourself taste better. There’s no need to underestimate our culture or tweak your hair with profile pictures to make it seem more “mainstream.” Still, many of us are consciously trying to do so or not just to avoid drama.
Swipe fatigue is real
Dating app burnout is real. All of that little story. All of that effort. And for what? Do you have a 15-minute drink at Shoreditch bar with a guy who looks like a picture of him or talks over you?
Nia, a student at a university in Stratford, described it as “like job hunting, but for ordinary men.” She’s not wrong.
It’s tired while trying to get an endless swipe, dodge the red flag, and figure out if someone really likes you. And when your black friends complain about dating, it often feels like they’re playing in easy mode while we’re doing hardcore survival.
So… what should girls do?
Not every app experience is a horror story. There is a gem. My friend just moved in with her boyfriend she met at Bumble and yes, he’s black, emotionally available and knows how to moisturize. miracle? perhaps. But they exist.
All we need is to start being honest with ourselves. Are we swiping out of boredom or intentionally swiping? Are you ignoring the micro-attack just to feel it’s seen? Are we chasing people who can’t hold space for us emotionally or culturally?
One thing is clear, we are more valuable. It’s not “better than what you have in your app,” but generally better. Better respect. Better conversation. Better dates. Better love.
If necessary, get that break from the app. Keep your peace. Reconnect with standard. Date offline. Slide to DMS. Let your aunt set you up. Or don’t date until someone worthy of you appears.
Remember, whatever you do: we don’t matter.
We are awards.
Source: Pride Magazine – www.pridemagazine.com
