Funke’s Diary – The Current Dating Scene, Dating Apps, and Power Plays

I consider myself a smart person, not easily swayed by trends or fleeting opinions. Over time, I’ve paid close attention to the dating scene—it’s hard not to, honestly. Relationships, love, companionship—they all contribute to making life a little easier on this floating rock we call home.

I’ve been single for a while now and, to be honest, I’m in no rush to change that. But there have been moments when I felt ready, moments when I thought, “Maybe I should put myself out there, and make it happen.” After a year of celibacy and intentional healing, I figured, “Alright, I’ve had my break. I’ve done the work on myself—maybe it’s time to explore again.”

I even ventured into the world of dating apps. Until this year, I had never been on one, and even now, the longest I’ve managed to keep a profile active is about two weeks before pausing or deleting it. The experience was… interesting. Swiping through profiles, getting flooded with likes, trying to be “wowed” by someone in just a few minutes—all while understanding we’re here to seek something from each other—it felt mechanical. Forced, even. There’s an unspoken pressure to juggle conversations with multiple people, and for me, that just doesn’t feel right. It lacks the organic thrill I crave, that natural flow of wanting and being wanted without all the structured “stages” dating apps impose.

Despite my skepticism, I still gave it a shot. I told myself I was being open-minded, but deep down, I doubted I’d meet my person on an app. Maybe I’m just not curious enough for that. So yes, I met a few interesting people, but eventually, I found myself hitting “pause.” It felt rude to ghost, even if we’d only exchanged a few messages. I believe in treating people with dignity—like I’d want to be treated—and all those half-hearted interactions just made me uncomfortable. Too many options, too many people, too little depth. I talk to one person daily as it is, and sometimes that’s more than enough.

The Rules of the Dating Game

When I observe dating today, there’s a strange set of rules, mostly unspoken. It feels like a game where the less interested you appear, the more “power” you gain. Everyone seems to be vying for control, holding back their emotions, and pretending not to care. The general vibe is casual, detached, and filled with people who claim to want love but seem more captivated by the thrill of the chase than the actual experience of connection.

It’s almost comical.

I get the logic behind these so-called rules, but I’ve consciously chosen not to participate. I don’t want to play games where caring less is a strength. Honestly, if you’re talking to me, you’re lucky to be here. Being with someone should feel like an honor—both for me and for them. It’s baffling that people think vulnerability or openly caring is a weakness. When I like someone, I’m not subtle about it. I want them to feel special because, for me, that’s how it should be. I don’t need to chase attention or manipulate someone’s interest to validate my worth.

I have moments where I question myself, wondering if my approach is too bold or my standards too high. But here’s the thing: when love has been good to me, it’s always been with people who love like I do—genuine, heart-on-the-sleeve kind of love. There’s something special about people who show up with their whole selves, who don’t shy away from the risk of getting hurt. I find that so refreshing in a world obsessed with playing it safe and maintaining the upper hand.

Why I Choose to Step Back

Of course, I understand human nature. I know that manipulation exists, and anyone can fall into those patterns—even me. But the ability to manipulate doesn’t mean I want to. Playing games, hiding emotions, or acting indifferent? I hate it. I don’t want to be in a relationship that feels like a calculated exchange, where I’m constantly measuring how much I should reveal or withhold.

If you’re truly looking for love, shouldn’t you expect it to consume you a little? Wanting love without risk, without surrendering some part of yourself—that feels like an empty pursuit. I think we should embrace the messiness of love, the uncertainty, the vulnerability. Without those things, it’s just a shadow of what love could be.

Eventually, I deleted the dating apps. I paused, hesitated, and finally concluded that it just wasn’t for me. I don’t feel comfortable “shopping” for connection. I’d rather let things happen in their own time, naturally, than force them through endless swipes and superficial small talk.

Dating will continue to change, no doubt. We’re all trying to find love in our own ways, and I hope everyone out there finds their person. But I also hope no one feels pressured to change themselves just to fit into this new, transactional dating landscape. Take a step back if you need to. Reevaluate what dating means to you. Most importantly, don’t compromise your character for something—or someone—you want to last.

Love should feel like an invitation to show up fully, without hesitation. If you have to pretend to be someone else just to secure a relationship, is it really worth it?

Essential Life Skills to Master in Your 20s

All you need to know about Cervical cancer screening & My Experience