Online dating burnout is real and it’s currently kicking my ass in my tiny Brooklyn apartment while the radiator clanks like it’s personally offended by my life choices. I’m sitting here in the same hoodie I’ve worn for four days, there’s a half-eaten bag of Takis on my desk, and my phone just buzzed with another “u up?” from a guy whose entire personality is CrossFit and crypto. Send help.
How I Knew My Online Dating Burnout Was Terminal
Like, I didn’t just feel “tired.” I felt soul-level exhausted. Here were my personal red flags (your mileage may vary, but probably not):
- I started writing “haha same” as my opening message because thinking of anything else felt like running a marathon.
- Every time a match asked “what are you looking for” I wanted to scream INTO THE VOID.
- I caught myself googling “is it normal to cry because someone used the wrong ‘your’.” Yes, I did that at 2 a.m. in my bathroom so my roommate wouldn’t hear.
- My thumb literally developed a callus from swiping. I’m not even joking, there’s a bump.
The Dumbest Thing I Did at Peak Dating App Fatigue
I went on a date with a guy who listed “biohacking” in his profile because I was too burned out to filter anymore. He spent 45 minutes explaining how he hasn’t had carbs since 2019 and tried to make me drink butter coffee. I smiled, nodded, and then went home and deleted every app for 72 hours. That was my rock bottom.
Okay But How Do You Actually Recover From Online Dating Burnout? (My chaotic method)
Here’s what’s sorta working for me right now. Emphasis on sorta.
- Hard delete the apps — not just “log out,” actually delete them. I made it my lock-screen wallpaper that says “touch grass loser” as a reminder.
- Tell your friends you’re on sabbatical so they stop sending you people’s profiles like trading cards.
- Do literally anything else that makes you feel human again — I started taking ceramics classes and now I have seventeen wonky mugs and zero dates, 10/10 recommend.
- When the itch comes back (and it will, ugh), set stupid strict limits. Like only open Hinge on Saturdays while eating cereal in bed. That’s my new rule and I’m only breaking it a little.
The Part Where I’m Honest and Contradictory
Part of me misses the chaos—yeah I said it. There was something addictive about the little dopamine hits. But then I remember the guy who asked if my body count was “under 20” on the first date and suddenly celibacy looks real good.
I’m not fully recovered from this online dating burnout, tbh. Some nights I still redownload Bumble at 1 a.m. like a degenerate raccoon, swipe for seven minutes, hate myself, and delete it again. Progress, not perfection, right?
Anyway. If you’re also deep in the dating app fatigue trenches, you’re not broken—you’re just American and chronically online like the rest of us. Take the break. Touch some grass. Make terrible pottery. We’ll figure it out eventually.
(Or we’ll all just die alone with our wonky mugs and that’s fine too.)
P.S. If you want to talk about your own Tinder exhaustion in the comments, I’m literally here for it. Misery loves company and I’ve got snacks.
Here are some natural, high-value outbound links you can drop right into the post (I’ll show you exactly where they fit so it doesn’t feel forced):
- When I mention the thumb callus (credibility + people love gross science) → Link to: https://www.healthline.com/health/swipe-thumb (Actual article about “smartphone thumb” and repetitive strain from dating apps)
- Right after “I started taking ceramics classes” (shows I’m not just talking out my ass) → Link to: https://www.theceramicsschool.com/blog/ceramics-for-mental-health/ (Study-backed piece on how pottery literally lowers cortisol)
- In the recovery tips section, after “touch grass loser” wallpaper → Link to: https://www.calmsage.com/digital-detox-dating-apps/
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