“Although I did end up self-sabotaging, I’ve learned to trust God more in the ups and downs of Bumble, fumble, and being humbled.”

Like many others, I’ve often sat and wondered if God was going to send me a soulmate. I’ve pondered if I’m supposed to be more active in the process. I’ve recited the verse that says, “whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing,” and criticized my future husband for being the worst hide-and-go-seek player I’ve never met. At this point, I’m not even hiding! I thought to myself. I’ve stayed up until the wee hours of the morning reading Buzzfeed articles on how to flirt or maximize whatever rizz I had in me. Needless to say, the eye contact part was hard for me. I just knew that if I stared into my crush’s eyes they’d see my soul. They’d know that I was wildly infatuated and then that would give them some sort of power to hurt me. Every time I had a crush on someone in-person, I would get so in my head that I would avoid them like the tenth plague. 

(To all my crushes, if you felt like I avoided you or was ever cold, just know I was probably madly in love or you were so insanely attractive that my brain just went “ooo” every time I looked at you). To curb this problem, I thought I would give online dating a try. Bumble seemed like a reasonable poison to choose. 

So there I was, skimming my Instagram looking for the best photos to screenshot and use for my dating profile. I want it to scream interested, but not desperate, I thought to myself even though the latter was likely more true. The thing with Bumble is that girls are supposed to send the first message if it’s a match. It was through this process that I realized that making the first move is incredibly hard and takes way more courage than I’d like to admit. I set the filters to “Christian” and the age range to 22-32. Was that age range too wide? Would my friends roast me for being a cradle snatcher or a gold digger? There was only one way to find out. I figured it was a numbers game and deployed a strategy to find out the best way to cold-message a boy. 

“Hi Franklin!” Left on delivered. Ouch. 

“Hey Kendrick! What’s your favourite colour?” Closed-ended and a conversation-ender.

“Yo yo, David! What’s up, bro?” No reply. I had just friend-zoned myself. 

I knew I was reaching new lows when I set the app radius to 160+ km because I was running out of options. How do people do this? This whole thing is a little insane. Over time, I realized that it was best to ask a slightly personal question like what they wanted to be when they were a kid and take it from there. Being on the app humbled me, but I reminded myself that “love is not proud.” The worst part though, is when you come across profiles of people you know in real life; I figured I would shoot my shot. I held my breath, typed a message, and swiped right, because why not? Spoiler, it was not reciprocated. I still see them around campus though. How embarrassing. How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? 

Worse yet is when someone you know recognizes you from the app and stops you in the hallway to ask you about it.

“Hey, I noticed that you were on Bumble. How has it been for you–,” they ask. “So fun!” I quickly jump in, in a high-pitched squeal as my face turns beet red. “It’s been such a great way to start conversations with people!” Fat lie. Over the span of three years of trying my hand at apps like these, I’ve been on three coffee dates. The first one, let’s call him “Brian,” taught me that I may be lacking the social skills to hold a proper conversation. He had talked about himself for most of the three hours, and I felt a little sad that he hadn’t really asked me a question. He did make promises about taking me on a bunch of tropical vacations though and the life we’d live together. However, I’m pretty sure he had another date immediately after ours that he rushed off to. The result? We mutually ghosted each other. 

Next was “Joe,” who set a date early on a Saturday morning at 10 a.m. When I got to the coffee shop that reeked of sage, aesthetic plants, and gold decorations, I found a seat where the sunlight made my makeup look the best. At 10:15, I looked at my phone. “Hey, I’m just running behind. I’m on my way! 10 minutes tops,” his text said. I wasn’t an unreasonable person, of course I waited. At 10:35 he said, “Almost there!” Gurgle gurgle went my stomach. I was getting hungry so I went to order a croissant and a coffee; it was 11:10 by this point. I had waited 70 minutes! I had just finished paying and was walking towards the door when he walked in. He had a dashing smile and was built like Dwayne Johnson but with hair. 

“Hey, so good to see you!” He said. “I can’t believe you waited. That’s craaazy.” He laughed as he hugged me. Crazy?!? I waited because you told me to! My heart sank from the disrespect, but we sat down and he proceeded to talk about himself for an hour before I politely excused myself. I ran for the hills. 

Then there was “Josh,” my third date. Josh was a saint. So kind, courteous, and funny. He was at the coffee shop early and had found a good spot. When I walked in, he stood up, smiled, and hugged me. I quickly thought, he’s 6’3”? Slay. Built-in bodyguard, yay! Josh was perfect in every way and it was in fact me that fumbled—three times! Fumble #1: I was so distracted by how beautiful he was that I could hardly mutter, “a small hot chocolate, please” to the cashier. I was just standing there gawking at him, and I totally forgot to offer to pay! As they say, “you gotta at least do ‘the reach’ for the bill.” So as the bill rang up, an awkward silence ensued. Eventually, Josh meekly smiled and said, “... It’s ok, don’t worry. I got it,” and tapped his card. Uh oh! I looked so arrogant expecting him to pay like that! I proceeded to thank him and crack some jokes to make it less awkward. 

We sat down with our hot drinks and he told me about his passion for God and asked me about my testimony and hobbies. We talked about everything we could think of! He listened intently and asked thoughtful follow-up questions. It was amazing! He was wearing white Vans shoes, a North Face puffer, had a perm, and was wearing a necklace. 

I stared at his necklace. “I don’t trust any boy with a chain,” I joked dryly. He started laughing. “Hey, my mom gave me this necklace. I tucked it into my shirt because I know how this looks,” he laughed. In an exaggerated way, I looked at his white shoes, North Face puffer jacket, and curly perm. I smiled. “You’re telling me this isn’t what it looks like?” I jested. “I’m not a player, promise,” he smirked. Josh was true to his word. Keep in mind that this was all during fumble #2: I had dried hot chocolate all over my mouth and teeth and he didn’t hold it against me. Time flew by and I was getting more self-conscious as I realized that I was starting to like him. Abruptly, I said I had to go but that I would love to see him again. Fumble #3: I was a nervous wreck so I dashed for the door but just as I was about to exit, I realized that this cafe did not have any waiters, so I turned around in horror to see Josh humbly putting away all the dishes I so entitledly left behind. He didn’t complain, he wasn’t sour. He just did what needed to be done. I took brisk, long strides back to over-apologize. He looked at me graciously and said, “It’s ok, I almost forgot too. Don’t worry, I got it.” And that’s the kind of person Josh was. One who made me feel safe and taken care of… and one who also happened to be 6’3” with a jawline that could cut glass.       

Even over text, he was playful and never pushy. He lived by his convictions. He read his Bible every day, led ministries at church, and treated me like a princess. But then something unexpected happened. RUN! Get out while you still can. The intrusive thought strangled me. I felt like puking. I was overtaken by anxiety. I wanted to get as far away from this man as possible. All the past hurts in my life resurfaced and I felt angry that Josh was so loving towards me. In a panic, my brain listed all the reasons why we were incompatible. I gave myself millions of reasons not to try anymore because deep down, I was afraid. Would he love me if I was a worm? Was this God’s will? Was I creating an Ishmael situation for myself because I was impatient and sought out a dating app? It felt like I was pushing my own agenda. My parents are divorced; what if Josh divorces me after two kids and I’m left hanging? What if I fall in love with the wrong person? He’s gorgeous; he needs a girlfriend that can fight. What if one day he wakes up and isn’t attracted to me anymore? He can do better. I was afraid that someone might really see me. If he knew everything about me, would he still choose me? Probably not, even I wouldn’t choose me. Was I ready to be a wife? I don’t know how to cook! But isn’t this what I wanted? 

Although I did end up self-sabotaging, I’ve learned to trust God more in the ups and downs of Bumble, fumble, and being humbled. God has shown me the ways that I still need to heal in order to be emotionally available. Jesus has been a Comforter and reassures me that I’m still in His Hands despite my relational shortfalls. Jesus gives me hope that one day I will be ready to courageously fall in love. Even though I sought out love from men, it was God’s steadfast love that showed me that I’m already perfectly loved right now. I think of the Bible story of Hannah who so desperately wanted a son that she cried hysterically like a drunkard. Then her husband said to her, “Hannah, why weepest thou? and why eatest thou not? and why is thy heart grieved? am not I better to thee than ten sons?” And in a way, God reminds me that He sees my desires, but in the end, Jesus is better and more loving towards me than ten sons, err, husbands in this case. 

I’m still a work in progress but I believe that faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. So, by faith, I still believe I will walk down the aisle one day… it might be in my funeral casket though #dyingalone.