Ecco come Tinder ha rovinato la mia vita

È iniziata come un'altra giornata normale, con i miei figli che mi hanno svegliato prima della sveglia e io che sono rimasta in piedi sulla porta di casa per cinque minuti interi prima di trovare il coraggio di iniziare la giornata.

Siamo uscite di corsa dalla porta più velocemente del necessario, come tutti gli altri giorni, perché ho l'ansia. Lasciai le ragazze alle loro scuole e mi diressi alla mia. Arrivai in classe con un anticipo imbarazzante, proprio come tutti gli altri giorni perché, come ho detto, soffro d'ansia.

When class finally ended, I responsibly went to my pharmacy to pick up my birth control and antidepressants. I was a few days late picking those up so you can only imagine my mental state. There was some problem with my insurance so I had to make a miserable phone call, to sit on hold, only to find out it’d take twenty-four hours to fix.

I left the pharmacy and began driving home when I got the phone call. It was from a blocked number and for some reason I’ll never know, I answered it.

I heard a woman’s soft voice say, “Hello? Who is this?” In a not so friendly way, I responded, “Uhh you called me,” and then she said something that made my stomach drop. “I’m just trying to figure out if my husband is cheating on me.”

Fuckkkkkkkkkk. I knew exactly who she was talking about. I will call him ‘Stash’. I had met Stash on Tinder a couple of weeks before. We had this bomb situation where we were each other’s booty calls but neither had any interest in dating or even really becoming friends. He had come over a couple of times, we had super thrilling sex, drank a glass of OJ together and then he left.

Dopo la prima volta che siamo usciti insieme, mi ha detto che aveva un figlio e che stava divorziando. Lei aveva preso il bambino e lasciato lo Stato e lui era esausto per aver avuto a che fare con la sua ex moglie completamente psicopatica.

My first instinct was to protect him from his crazy ex. I played dumb briefly. “Umm I’m talking to three people named Stash, I’m not sure which one you’re asking about.” She said, “I don’t want to give you his last name but did you meet him on Tinder and have sex with him?”

Sono una pessima bugiarda, probabilmente a causa della mia ansia. Cominciai a sudare, di brutto; in che diavolo mi ero cacciata?

“He told me you got a divorce!” I said, in the most ashamed voice I’d ever heard. I saw it then, all the red flags, everything that had been screaming ‘this guy is a total fuck, run away, don’t sleep with him’. I felt for her at that moment and realized I didn’t give a shit about this guy I hardly knew, that she deserved to know.

I told her yes, I had in fact met Stash on Tinder and we had slept together. She wanted specific dates and times of each occasion. This girl was organized as shit. It’s like she had a list of questions written out and ready.

Mi chiese dove abitassi; mi rifiutai di dirglielo perché non avevo la minima idea di come si chiamasse. In fondo alla mia mente pensavo che fosse una trappola, come poteva qualcuno in SoCal trovare il mio numero di telefono, sapere che avevo incontrato un certo Stash su Tinder e sapere che eravamo andati a letto insieme?!

She told me her name, I will say it’s ‘Beauty’. She then bounced back to a specific date and time Stash had come over and when I answered, she said, “I know exactly where you live” How? Their phones shared locations. He was a fucking idiot.

Turns out the day he showed up to my house and drove away before even getting out of his truck wasn’t because his dog had a seizure and his neighbor called him to come home. It was because she had seen his out of norm location and called him and he told her he had taken a wrong turn.

Later that evening ‘when his dog was better’, he came over and we hooked up. He mentioned how he had left his phone at home. Turns out it was so his GPS would say he was home so she wouldn’t know.

Tenevo a quel cane, mi preoccupavo per lei, perché da quello che aveva descritto sembrava proprio come era morto il mio Golden Retriever. Le mie emozioni non curate si erano accese e non era stato necessario perché era tutta una bugia.

Beauty mi ha chiamato più volte nel corso della giornata, a volte abbiamo parlato per più di trenta minuti. Aveva domande su domande e alla fine mi informò che era incinta del loro secondo figlio insieme. Sono stata tradita durante tutta la mia prima gravidanza. Potevo capire e questo mi ha dato una spinta ancora maggiore ad aiutarla.

Nel frattempo, ho ricevuto un messaggio da Cowboy. Io e lui ci siamo frequentati e frequentati per circa tre mesi.

He wanted to let me know that out of the blue his baby momma wanted to try as a family again. My stomach dropped again. We had just had sex the night before and I had a gut feeling that this wasn’t out of the blue.

A little birdie had told me he had a history of cheating and I ignored it because we weren’t in a relationship. Then it dawned on me—his sketchiness and how secretive and ‘busy’ he always was. He had been living two lives and once again I was in the middle of infidelity.

Due in un giorno? Che cosa c'è di sbagliato in me. Tutto è esploso in quel momento. Da tre mesi tradiva la madre dei suoi figli con me.

In preda al panico, ho chiamato la mia migliore amica e mi sono precipitata a casa sua. Ho perso la mia merda 100%. Andata. Ero un vero disastro. In qualche modo ha capito per cosa stavo iperventilando e mi ha rivolto uno sguardo così triste e compassionevole. Mentre stavo avendo un attacco d'ansia totale per il fatto che due donne erano state tradite a causa mia, lei disse una semplice frase che cambiò completamente il mio punto di vista.

“You are a victim too.” Woah, hold up anxiety, get a grip on yourself. She was absolutely correct.

Il mio stato d'animo passò istantaneamente da un vero e proprio disastro, iperventilazione, ansia, pianto e distruzione della casa, alla rabbia. Fanculo, non avevo intenzione di portare quel peso sulle mie spalle, mi avevano anche mentito, era ora che prendessi in mano la situazione.

Mentre stavo pensando a come gestire la situazione, ricevetti una telefonata da Beauty; mi disse che Stash era quasi a casa (secondo il GPS) e voleva che andassi ad affrontarlo e a registrare il tutto. A quel punto, il senso di colpa che avevo per averne fatto inconsapevolmente parte era troppo forte ed ero disposta a fare qualsiasi cosa per aiutarla.

Andai a casa sua e bussai alla porta, calma e fiduciosa, con la registrazione del telefono in tasca, sapendo che c'era una ragazza dolce e ansiosa che aspettava il mio rapporto completo. Aprì la porta con un'espressione di grande orrore e sorpresa.

“Hey!” he excitedly exclaimed. “What the fuck is going on and why am I getting phone calls from your wife in San Diego?” He opened the door and asked me to come in, as he was quick on the defense to tell me every lie possible, stumbling over his words; he was digging himself even deeper in a hole and he couldn’t even keep his lies straight anymore.

I felt bad for him, how miserable to live that life, one so full of lies he didn’t even know what was real anymore.

After hearing him ramble complete bullshit for five minutes, I was heading to the door to leave and he said, “Hey, don’t leave without a hug,” and he walked over and gave me one. I got in my car and drove away, thinking about how desperate I had been for someone to be there that I had allowed myself to get involved with two completely shady, deceitful people and had unknowingly helped them both hurt people who loved them.

Ho consegnato a Beauty il rapporto e le ho inviato la registrazione. Mi collegai alle mie app di appuntamenti, cancellai i due appuntamenti futuri che avevo in programma e disattivai i miei account. Pensavo di essere stata brava a non mostrare comportamenti autodistruttivi mentre inciampavo nella mia vita. Mi sbagliavo. Stavo facendo del male a me stessa e agli altri perché avevo troppa paura di rimanere in silenzio da sola e di dover affrontare quello che mi era successo negli ultimi otto anni.

I’m going to do that now, I am going to be alone. I have now been burned twice more by men who I carelessly trusted, simply because they gave me positive attention. I’m back. I’m once again a fully-fledged man hater.

Fanculo a tutti. Oh e fanculo Tinder. Per dirla con le parole dei Drive-By Truckers,

“So I’ll meet you at the bottom if there really is one
They always told me when you hit it you’ll know it
But I’ve been falling so long it’s like gravity’s gone and I’m just floating”

Maybe I’ve found it.

di Melia Winters