I remember the first time my mother saw one of my hook-up apps on my phone. She had walked by and saw all the pictures of men on my phone and quickly asked, "Oh, what app is that?" I had to think fast. I told her it was a new phonebook app where you dial friends by hitting their picture and followed up by telling her it was only available on the new phones like my iPhone 6 plus so I couldn't install it on her iPhone 4. She seemed tobelieved me, I think. Sorry for lying to you, mom.
So I think I dodged a bullet, but whenever I go home, I always lock my phone for I don't need my nieces, siblings, or parents popping on and seeing something they shouldn't, may it be my something or someone else's something.
Giving up possession of my phone is a hard thing to do, but it often depends on whom is asking to use or see it. I've had friends visit from out of town and want to see what's on the sex grids. They say they don't have some of the apps on their phone, but are interested in who is showing what in the Fort Lauderdale area. I guess I get a little uncomfortable when the phone goes into the hands of another. Will they click on a guy, send them a message or view their profile causing an avalanche of "hey, I saw you looked at me" texts?
What am I afraid of? Maybe I should hand over my phone and see what kind of luck they have for me? I'm still single. Would they start a conversation with a guy that I may not have reached out to and could it lead somewhere?
Does it scare you as well to hand your phone to someone else?
I handed my phone to Teresa somewhat nervously, and she took to her task with relish. Even as I attempted to watch over her shoulder, I felt what I realized was an important sense of control over my Tinder matches slipping away. "No, no, no…" she said, her finger sliding left with a newbie's deliberateness.
"This guy is a lawyer… and he lives in town!" Teresa said, referencing a deep, ill-fated entanglement with a bartender I'd recently matched with while traveling. To Teresa's mind, that guy's biggest flaw was that he'd lived so dang far away. She swiped right on the lawyer. "Oooh, it's a match!" she said, showing me the victorious match screen.
I somewhat rudely snatched my phone back and examined the solicitor's profile. I knew almost instantly I would not have chosen him. He was alright-looking, just not my type. As I held the phone in my hands, it buzzed—he'd already sent me a message.
…
Maybe that's where my knee-jerk nausea originated: handing over control of my Tinder was equivalent to admitting that I couldn't trust my own sense of attraction, that quickening of the heart, the fuzzy tendrils that radiate out from the chest, the head-to-toe sweep of goosebumps you get when you really like someone. But without the starry-eyed thrill, what's the goddamned point?
On a purely practical level, there's another problem with letting my friend guest-swipe on my Tinder: The same way that a friend borrowing my Netflix login skewed my recommendation algorithm by binge-watching several seasons of Pretty Little Liars, Teresa's swiping had the potential to confuse the impersonal math equation Tinder uses to select my matches. Unlike the algorithms used by services like OKCupid, which try to use common interests to match people, the swipey apps use our instant hot-or-not reaction to their photos—which is apparently how good matches are made. – Greatist.com
Definitely head over to the rest of Charlie Beckerman's post in Greatist.com where he mentions the fear of being told how he's failing in the dating department, where he may have to elaborate why one is not a match and the other one is, and the fear of a friend being right about the person they choose for you.
Would you hand over your phone and let your friends click away?
Do you think your friends would be successful in choosing someone for you?
Would one friend be better at it than another?
Would you let your mom or dad find a match for you?
Have you had success with someone that was picked by a friend / relative off an app?
h/t: Greatist.com