Tinderella

28 05 2016

Part 1: The Sad Lonely Right Swiper


Oh yes. As embarrassing as it is, I’ve come to terms with being the modern day cliché and have chosen to accept my title of Tinderella. It just sounds so damn dumb to say out loud to people who ask how I met my current beau but I’m not down for lying about it either. I’m not ashamed of finding love with an amazing man I adore dearly but still, it is pretty fucking embarrassing. No one ever really goes on Tinder to find the love of their life. For me, it was an unhealthy pastime more than anything. Seeing these guys who were totally out of my league swipe right on my face… well, it was a thrill. It really sucked though when you actually start a conversation with some of them and they turn out to either be sexual deviants or real dumb fucks. I’d spend some nights swiping away then out of nowhere, I’m overwhelmed by toxic thoughts, reeling through my brain like a plague. Why am I doing this? What am I looking for? Am I just so pathetic that I can’t find a date outside of the internet? I’m such an ugly piece of crap. Optimistic that life will turn around, I’d delete the app, leaving people like:

  1. 1) Dumb fuck Paul who texts me “drinks?” every other night, hoping I’d look over the fact that he’s a 32 year old man who didn’t know the meaning of “procrastinate”.
  2. Dolphin trainer Garrett who’s actually at an oil refinery but wanted to sound impressive so he made that part up to see what my reaction would be. It was “haha.”. Note the full stop.
  3. Jackass Johari the aspiring film maker who made me watch an 8 minute piece of shit commercial he made on iMovie and seriously thought I would be all “HERE’S MY VAGINA!” after seeing it. I asked him once, to be polite, about what he was working on at the time and his response was “I can’t tell you that! It’s top secret! I can only tell you when I release it. I’ll link you when it’s done.” Yeah… Please no.
  4. Hung like a hamster tom, dick and harry. That guy that seems nice for the first hour or so before asking for weird sexual favours. Basically every other guy on Tinder.

*I may have messed up the names of these lads but please believe me when I say that these stories are literally too stupid to make up. *

I can say I deleted the app about 5 times.
Part 2: That Sappy Shit No One Wants To Read But Here It Is

 It was around May of 2014 that Fuad and I swiped the hell out of each other. I was working the Aussie production of Grease at the time and swinging the Sandy role, which was a cake walk in terms of timing. I had quite a bit of free time between changes because my Sandy wasn’t clingy and enjoyed time to relax on her own. Goddamn I miss it. Grease was one of my favourite productions to work on. Go to girl for both Rizzo and Sandy? Childhood made.

Anyway as I said, I had a lot of free time before and during the show so I chatted up this charming bloke on Tinder. His profile picture was of him at a poker table and his bio, I remember was funny as fuck. I wish I had a screencap of that shit. His opening line was “Tell me something “inetresting” about yourself.” I made fun of his typo and that was it. I’ve told him a couple of times that if he hadn’t made that spelling error, I probably wouldn’t have replied. It wasn’t something I usually would respond to. Luckily he did. I remember just being so amazed at how intelligent and COHERENT this malay guy was that I actually had to ask whether he was local or not. (Not to piss on ALL malay guys but you have to admit, some of your bros are either loco or dumb as a nail.) I vaguely remember our conversations to be long thought out paragraphs on the tinder app. It didn’t take long for me to know I really liked this guy. He was witty, caught on sarcasm well (which was very important to me in my dark humor phase at that time), and sweet. He gave out his number a few days after talking all day and night. Another moment I thought about ditching everything was the first few words he said to me on Whatsapp. I said something along the lines of “Hi, Lydia here J” and he responded with the most Mat thing possible. “Sape sial Lydia”. I remember being genuinely angry by this response because 1) there was an actual possibility this guy had given me a bogus number 2) How immature is this if it really is him. It’s humiliating enough to have to be the one to text first 3) THIS was what I was getting myself into?!

Somehow, I had forgiven him for that. We talked everyday since about god knows what (this is me being bitter that we both accidentally got our whatsapps wiped out of all these memories) and about 2 weeks in, we started to talk about the meet up. I have never met anyone off the internet before. It seems a little absurd and unreal that a person can come off the internet and not be catfish. Like is it even possible?

I had gotten to know a guy online once before and he happened to be in the death metal scene too at that point. We had talked via text for over a year and never met. I never intended to meet him, ever. I knew this but I gave him the hope anyway. Like I wanted to see how long I could drag it out before he gave up. We ended up attending the same gig one year because HELLO there’s only one Deathfest here wtf. He saw me, called out to me and I pretended not to hear him and ran for my life. To this day I still don’t know why I did that but he’s married with a kid now so it’s all good yeah? I was young. I like/needed the attention. Please don’t hate me, I’m sorry I’m an asshole (title of my memoir).

Anyway, I was tempted to do it again. I genuinely enjoyed talking to this guy. I was so afraid he would take one look at me and bolt. What if he hadn’t figured out that I’m a fatty? Are my pictures catfishy? We set a date. It was sometime in June so my brain tells myself that’s a month away and more than enough time to lose about 10 kg. RIGHT? No? Oh.

25th May 2014 – He texts me asking what I was up to the day after. Guy wastes no time. Before I could overthink it, I immediately agreed to it. Even with all the insecurities I was feeling at that point, I knew I just really wanted to go out with this guy. YOLO amairite?! Oh I’m too old for that shit? Okay.

26th May 2014 – We scheduled for 2pm at Botanic Gardens Mrt. I had randomly pointed out a train station with my eyes shut and for some reason he went with it. Knowing him now, I can hear him swearing me out in his head for this hahahaha I was so incredibly early that I decided to sit at Caldecott mrt and wait for him to arrive first so I wouldn’t seem so desperate and pathetic. A girl shouldn’t arrive first right? My hands and face were shaking uncontrollably. I honestly haaaaated that feeling. It was full blown anxiety. We finally locked eyes and I wish I could say the nervousness ended there but nope. We were both total wrecks for the first hour or so, stuttering our words, sweating profusely. One of the first few things he said was “You look nice”. Then a few moments later he asks me why do I look like I’m going to a funeral. The real Fuad started to show.

We saw Bad Neighbours innocently in the theater. He asked for permission to put his hand on my thigh. It was the sweetest thing. We went to the MBS rooftop aka my happy place and sat there for awhile telling each other stories. Like all the amazing days, we didn’t want it to end. We dragged out the date until the next day. He sent me to toa payoh where we sat till about 5 in the morning, just talking. When I tell people the story of our first date, no one believes me when I say we didn’t do anything naughty. We really didn’t. We just talked. It was the best date ever. I slept that day with the biggest smile on my face. Woke up around noon with a text message from him asking if I’d like to hang out again. I’m like hell yeah. We hung out again that day, till 7am.

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27th May 2014

The rest of our story is a whirlwind. It doesn’t feel like it but 3 days ago, that wonderful first date was 2 whole years ago. Since then, I’ve traveled more than I did in my 25 years before him. I’ve seen and learned so much. I’ve cried and loved so much.

I still feel the butterflies when he hugs me unexpectedly, or kisses me on the forehead in the morning. I still adore his wittiness and still think he’s a brilliant arsehole.

I love that he gives me shit when I’m being unreasonable. I love that we can fight and be okay within an hour. I’m in love with him, and for once, I’m not afraid to be.

Part 3: Aren’t you glad that’s over?


With all that being said, I just want to make it a point to reconfirm my coming out, as Tinderella (fuck that sounds weird). Not all tinder stories end up like mine but once in a blue moon, life throws you one. We can’t have this stigma forever. It’s the generation we live in. If you met someone at a bar and you exchange numbers, wouldn’t the getting to know each other bit still happen over text message? I’m just saying if you put it out there that you’re out to get sex, you will probably get sex. But if you put your real self out there, with the best of intentions, eventually, the universe will respond kindly.

How ever my relationship turns out, I’m glad this was my story. Can’t really say it’s typical. I’m just glad he didn’t turn out to be a serial killer or something. Jeez.

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