Queer Dating Apps — IRL
Photo by Scot Maitland, Director of New Business Development at Imprint.
On February 12th, I attended an event called “Tech-nically Dating” hosted at the OkCupid offices and programmed by Out in Tech – a non-profit dedicated to connecting LGTBQ+ people in the tech community. The room was absolutely packed and the panel was essentially on the app contents of most of our phones, come to life. The talent consisted of: Marcus Lofthouse – Chief Product Officer at OKCupid, Robyn Exton – Founder of HER, Adam Cohen-Aslatei – CEO/Founder of S'Mores, and Kelly Rakowski – Founder of Lex. The panel was moderated by Kenneth Courtney Jr., founder of Courtney Creative PR, and also featured Naveen Kumar, a writer and editor for them. who gave some really wonderful, brilliant insights on the user experience online.
The conversation started by going through the brief and interesting history of queer representation of the apps and dating websites. It touched on landmark moments like when OkCupid expanded their orientation and gender after working with GLAAD, blazing the trail for other dating websites to follow suit. The founders each shared their stories, some of which were very personal, about why and how they created their apps. In her own story, Robyn Exton took us through the early examples of online queer romance, citing Tumblr as the original “Grindr for women.” The room erupted in knowing laughter, because we remember that, we were there for it. And we’ve come a long way from only being able to DM on Tumblr. Today, we have a diverse multitude of apps, websites, and social media dating options. But the idea I kept coming back to, for myself, was something she said early on in the evening, which is that “queer people always find their space on the internet.”
It’s easy to be cynical about queer love and dating in the age of the internet. And a lot of that cynicism is well founded. In large part, it comes from trying to use the early heteronormative datings apps that required us to carve out our own space within their contexts. This cynicism also comes from just the general shittiness of the internet sometimes. Naveen Kumar so perfectly encapsulated this tricky combination of wariness and occasional optimism that this age begets. At its worst, being online and “anonymous” elicits some of the worst behaviors of fetishization, body shaming, racism, ableism and everything in between – on top of, and in addition to, the dangers of being openly LGBTQ+ online. On the neutral side, the apps, in their multitudes, represent an “Endless Pile of Swipes.” One the one hand, this can mean opportunity for connection, but just as often it can mean empty validation and meaningless thumb movement. “Being online fosters both connection and disconnection,” Kumar posited. The LGBTQ+ community’s relationship to online dating and apps is complicated to say the least.
Still, there are clear positive impacts on queer love that the apps have facilitated. The event was heartening in many ways, especially thinking about how far online dating for queer people has come. As each member of the panel stated, the apps are evolving with the times and represent a need to be met. Lex is a wonderful example of this. Based on the 80s personal ads that founder Kelly Rakowski came upon, Lex mirrors the early lo-fi original “personal ads” format of short written blurbs with no images. Through it, Rakowski turned something old and beloved into something novel. Rakowski also stated that the app has a strict anti-transphobia policy, frequently posted about and enforced. In her words, the app is for everyone except “cis men, sorry even the gay ones.” The room erupted in rapturous laughter and applause of agreement. Beyond aiming to fill the dearth of much-needed spaces for trans and NB people, the app has also expanded in function to include space for wider community needs. People can, and do, post ads for friends, collaborators, and roommates.
HER has found a similar strategy for expansion and now includes a community feature, which allows those on the app to find others in their own, more specific communities to connect with. They’ve also branched out into in person events in cities around the world. As Robyn Exton walked through the trajectory of the app, I was fully on the ride with her. In her words, she started the app because she was, “desperate to find a girlfriend.” Being in the room as she told her story was a special moment for me. I had the app when I was in college, desperate to meet other queer people, and sick of running out of “women” in my radius very quickly on Tinder. I was so thrilled to have an app that was a space for me finally. Not one in which I had to shoehorn myself, prompting the radical move to change my settings to both “men” and “women” on Tinder. But a place for me, as a cis, bi, white woman is so very much only the beginning of what needs to happen. And expansion of both HER and the creation of Lex represent changes to come.
The level of progress that we’ve seen certainly causes me to reflect on the origins of online dating. I was born into a dating app family. My dad helped to engineer and create some of the earliest versions of dating websites we know today through his company Social Plus. The office was actually in the living room of our Hell’s Kitchen apartment. His projects included, Jewish Match, Afro Connection, and others. His theory was founded on what was then called “niche dating” – a term I, as a defiant, progressive, Aquarius child, did not like. I didn’t love the idea of encouraging people to only find love within their communities. I wanted to live in a world where cultures and people could feel free to mix and match, and ultimately, find love. In the end, I realize now that I wasn’t necessarily seeing the full picture or reality of being or feeling vulnerable online. I didn’t understand the very necessary spaces he was providing to those who really wanted and really needed it.
Along with Jewish, Latinx, Black and LGBTQ+ platforms there was a spate of other websites he created including ones for elderly dating, HIV-positive dating, and dating for people with physical disabilities. These are communities that still today are continuously and systematically excluded and marginalized from dating platforms, even many of the queer-focused ones. Luckily, outside of the queer-focused dating platforms, there are many others that cater to these communities. But, it’s a reminder that even within our own LGBTQ+ apps and platforms, there is still a long, long way to go in terms of inclusion and accessibility.
A big takeaway from the panel for me was that it’s incredibly important to create and facilitate spaces for love, companionship, and connection for those who want it. It’s not enough to open up options in places not built for us, though I really do commend OkCupid and Tinder for leading the way in this field. Sometimes, we need to create our own spaces. With the creation of Lex and others to come, I'm hopeful and confident that we always will.
But listen, these apps aren’t perfect. We’ve all had our share of negative experiences and horror stories. Still though, they are improving, changing, expanding. To reiterate Exton’s words: “Queer people will always find their place online.” Let’s find those places and push them further, to be the best versions of themselves.
At this wonderfully programmed Out in Tech event, the final question of the night was one on everyone’s mind. How do you make your profile stand out? And Rakowski had a perfect answer: “Have your BFF write your ad. They think you’re sexy and great and will write you the best ad.” They see all the amazing things you may not see in yourself, she added. Everyone immediately took out their phone and texted their friend—with a small, quick favor to ask.
Click here for some more information about Out in Tech, their community, and programming. Thank you for hosting us!
***
Sabrina Bleich is a member of the Body Politic team and contributor to Body Type. She works in TV development and as a writer/researcher for film, TV, and podcasts. She dabbles in comedy as a member of the sketch comedy group, God Should Not Have Chosen Us. Find her infrequent tweets and other pieces at @rabbisabbi.
