Dating Apps Are Just Video Games for Your Emotions

It took me a while to see it. At first, I thought I was just swiping through profiles. Looking for connection. Exploring possibilities. But after enough “Hey 🙂” messages that led nowhere, ghostings, accidental matches, and an emotional rollercoaster that made Six Flags look tame, I realized something both horrifying and hilarious:

Dating apps are just video games.

Not in the literal sense—you don’t win coins or reach level 99 (although it feels like it). But emotionally? Psychologically? Mechanically?

They're exactly the same.

You're playing a game with your heart, and whether you're chasing love or killing time, your feelings are the real joystick.

Let me explain.

Chapter 1: The Swiping Mechanism = Loot Boxes for Love

In video games, loot boxes are random mystery prizes. You open one, hoping for something rare and amazing, but usually you get junk.

Sound familiar?

That’s swiping.

Every time you swipe right, you're gambling. You're hoping the algorithm gods smile upon you and reward you with a match—a good match, not another guy holding a fish or a woman whose bio just says “don’t waste my time.”

It's that same dopamine hit as opening a loot box. You don’t know what’s inside. It might be The One. Or it might be someone who opens with “wyd.”

And just like loot boxes, you start craving that little rush of excitement every time you swipe. It’s not even about meeting someone anymore—it’s about seeing if you can match.

That's not dating. That’s emotional slot machines.

Chapter 2: Profiles = Character Creation Screens

Remember designing your video game avatar? Choosing the best hair, ideal clothes, adjusting your stats?

That’s what making a dating profile feels like.

You're crafting a character—maybe not a fake version of yourself, but certainly an optimized one. You choose your best pictures, highlight your quirkiest hobbies (but not the too weird ones), and try to look effortlessly cool while screaming internally: “PLEASE VALIDATE ME.”

And you’re not just creating your own character—you’re judging everyone else’s too.

He’s a 7 but has a cat named Batman. Swipe right.

She’s gorgeous but her bio says “Only God can judge me.” Swipe left.

You're evaluating attributes, filtering by interests, measuring compatibility like you're checking equipment stats in an RPG.

It's dating, sure—but it's also character selection with real-world consequences.

Chapter 3: Matches = Checkpoints

Getting a match is like reaching a new level or unlocking a checkpoint. It’s proof you’ve made progress. It feels earned.

You matched? Great! Time to start the next mission: small talk.

But here's the twist—just like in games, matching doesn’t mean you're close to the end. It just means you’ve unlocked a harder level.

Now you have to navigate the “what do I say?” anxiety, survive the “are they actually interested?” minefield, and dodge the dreaded “hey” followed by... nothing.

A match is not a win.

It's just the start of the next challenge.

Chapter 4: Ghosting = Game Over Screens

In video games, when you die, the screen fades to black and says, “Game Over.” You try again. You reset. No explanation. Just… done.

Ghosting is the dating app equivalent.

You’re mid-conversation, maybe even excited, and then—poof. They're gone. No goodbye. No reason. No closure.

Just that same cold silence and your own inner monologue: Did I say something wrong? Were they even real?

You replay the messages like game footage, trying to find the fatal mistake.

There’s no satisfying ending. No “thanks for playing.” Just confusion and the cruel silence of emotional permadeath.

Chapter 5: Algorithm = Game AI That’s Out to Get You

Let’s talk about the algorithm.

Nobody really knows how it works. It claims to be your wingman, your matchmaker, your digital Cupid.

But honestly? It feels like it’s trolling you.

You spend a day swiping thoughtfully, engaging politely—and the next thing you know, it’s showing you people 300 miles away who list “flirting” as a hobby and have zero mutual interests.

Why?

Because, like game AI, dating app algorithms don’t care about your feelings. They care about engagement. Time spent on the app. Return rates. Swipe frequency.

It’s not matchmaking. It’s emotional manipulation, dressed up in pastel colors and heart icons.

You're not the player. You're the product.

Chapter 6: Red Flags = Boss Fights

Every now and then, you’ll encounter a profile that looks perfect. Too perfect.

Then you start talking, and suddenly you're facing off against a red flag boss battle:

They “don’t believe in labels.”
They mention their ex. A lot.
They ask for money. On day three.
They say "I'm just being honest" before saying something awful.

You try to dodge. You try to reason. But it’s a trap.

This is not a casual match. This is a toxic boss encounter, and it ends in chaos.

Your only winning move is to run and never look back.

Chapter 7: Messaging = Turn-Based Combat

Let’s talk about texting.

In most games, turn-based combat requires strategy, patience, and timing.

Dating apps are no different.

If you reply too fast, you're “too eager.”
If you wait too long, you're “not interested.”
You send a thoughtful message. They reply with "lol."
You make a joke. Silence.

Every message is a move. Every reply (or lack of one) is a counter.

You plan your next line like you’re selecting spells in Final Fantasy.

Only difference? In games, the enemies always respond.

Chapter 8: Emotional XP (Experience Points)

Every bad conversation? XP.

Every ghosting? XP.

Every time you lower your standards just to see what happens and immediately regret it? Double XP Weekend.

Each emotional bruise adds to your mental stat sheet. You gain wisdom. You learn what red flags look like. You develop radar for fake charm and shady vibes.

Eventually, you evolve. You're no longer a level 1 romantic.

You’ve become a seasoned veteran of the dating trenches, complete with emotional armor and sharp-tongued banter.

But also? You’re exhausted.

And that's when it hits you: maybe the game isn’t fun anymore.

Chapter 9: Burnout Mode

In gaming, if you play too long, you hit burnout. You log in, stare at the screen, and realize you're not enjoying it anymore.

Dating apps do the same thing.

You open the app and sigh. Everyone looks the same. The conversations blur. You scroll without feeling. You reply out of obligation.

You start asking, “What’s the point?”

This isn’t dating. This is emotional grinding.

You didn’t sign up for this to play another game. You wanted to meet someone. Laugh. Connect. Be surprised by someone’s weird laugh or charming awkwardness.

Instead, you're trapped in a cycle of infinite side quests with no main storyline in sight.