By Miles Johnson
This summer I entered the precarious world of online dating. In my defense, my social life was lacking vitality at the time. I was back home, and most of my friends were living elsewhere. I was newly single. Really, though, I just wanted to take the quiz.
Upon signing up for a profile on OkCupid.com, users must answer questions that determine their compatibility with other members. The questions range from, “would you date a smoker?” to my personal favorite, “no means no?”
OkCupid then matches users based on how similarly they have taken the quiz. An ideal companion will have answered all of the questions in the same way that you have. And this is where things can get weird.
I was curious to see what kind of men the site would recommend. As I began to peruse some profiles I noticed certain similarities. Sure, I was bound to share favorite books and movies with these guys, but also, at least at surface level, we had a lot of parallels in our personalities. Many of the men described themselves as introspective over-thinkers who liked learning and travel.
At this point, I began to have a small identity crisis.
Was I really unique when dozens of other guys had identical outlooks on life, and had also grown up watching “X-Men”?
Despite this worry, I started messaging a boy from Chicago. He was also an art history student, foreign language learner and like me was spending his summer interning at an art gallery. I wondered what we could possibly talk about on a date.
We could pick apart the discrepancies in our common experiences, I guessed. But really, how stimulating would that be?
It was then that I came upon the greater question: who were people really looking for on these dating sites? All evidence seems to support the theory that, like Narcissus, we are looking for ourselves.
I think the reason for this self-love is twofold. First of all, online dating is scary. When rummaging through throngs of strangers’ faces, you want to see something familiar. It’s easier to get a handle on someone who shares a lot of the same likes, dislikes and values as you. Also, there is an inherent danger to the idea of Internet dating. If you are going to rendezvous with one of these unknowns in person, you want to meet with someone that you can trust is not out to steal your organs.
Who can you trust better than yourself?
In the greater sense, I think the inherent logic to these matchmaking systems is that sameness equals compatibility. People that are more alike will be able to connect over their mutual interests. There will be less conflict between them because they have less to disagree about.
Except what these services seem to forget is that conflict is sexy.
On the rare occasions that I am drawn to a guy, it’s because he knows something that I don’t. Areas of knowledge have ranged from metal to Motown, Victorian architecture to Capoeira; I found all of it fascinating.
When I began a long-term relationship with a guy (the metal one, not the Motown one), bigger, more fundamental differences started to arise. Our enthusiasm and opinions on topics as broad as religion, alcohol and politics differed significantly, but it was these disputed subjects that fueled many of our conversations.
Over the course of our relationship I gained insight into the world of mixology, and became more invested in current events. For me, there was a fascination, not a fear, of the unknown.
This important dissonance is what I fear that Internet made relationships, born from common ground, lack. My brother’s ex-boyfriend is also on OkCupid.com. He remarked that if he had read my brother’s profile, rather than meeting him in real life, he would have never considered asking him out. They dated for a year.
I encourage those seeking romance online to look for people that you think you could get along with, but let the scrutiny stop there. Search out users with radically different interests, who come from disparate backgrounds. Although this may not guarantee success, you probably won’t find yourself checking your watch on the first date.
One would do well to remember the fate of Narcissus. He rejected the nymph Echo in favor of his own reflection, only to be transformed into a boring flower.
