My father used to have all these pet names for me—things like “whore,” “slut,” and “cum dumpster.”
Just kidding—those are the kind-hearted sentiments sent to me by the men of Tinder. How quickly they turn surly if you don’t respond quickly or if you aren’t receptive to their stupid, degrading come-ons.
There’s no escaping the flood of filth, then the immediate retaliation when I don’t welcome it with open arms. My phone has an ongoing rendition of 12 Angry Men playing on a loop—from the bodybuilder who inquired about my interest in “BBC” to the ginger who asked if I’d like him to fuck me while his friend fucked another orifice of my choosing. (He was going to let me choose the other orifice, what a dream come true!)
The second I “reject” these men in any way—showing no interest, not responding in time, not responding at all—I’m immediately hit with a retaliation. These men rebound by the retaliation; once they degrade me for whatever they think will cut the deepest, they’re absolved of the rejection and can go on raping another woman’s eyes and confidence.
If you’re a woman who’s used Tinder, OkCupid, Plenty of Fish, even Christian Mingle for more than 30 seconds, you’ve received a nasty rejection retaliation. It’s the technological equivalent of sticking out your tongue then saying, “Well…no one likes you anyways!” It’s immature, insecure, and painfully embarrassing.
We live in a large, vast world full of millions of different people with different likes and dislikes, fetishes, and fantasies. This shouldn’t be a bad thing but this spoiled millennial generation feels entitled to everything: an amazing job without working their way up, a six-figure salary without the 60-hour work week, and finding the perfect partner without the drudgery of dating.
Enter the opportunity to swipe through potential dates and decide their worth based on a few photos and maybe a movie quote. Back in the days before dating functioned through a screen, people would meet at parties, through friends, or maybe even in a bookstore (how quaint!). In those interactions there was nuance, there was intrigue. Do I like them? Do they like me? I’m not sure, let me dive deeper! Let’s spend more time together, let’s investigate.
He likes art museums?! I LOVE art museums!
He thinks oysters are overpriced, salty boogers?! Me, too!!!
He used to masturbate to X-Tina’s “Dirty” video?!?! This must be love!
Dating used to be two people putting themselves out there, jumping off a cliff together and hoping the person falling with them would supply them the wings to fly. It was optimistically sweet and sometimes confusing, but it was worth the nerves and sweaty palms.
Now we live in a world where the wings aren’t necessary. How big of a risk is it to send a generic message with your thumbs? Is it really that big of a rejection if a random Internet stranger doesn’t answer your, “Sup.”? Why should they? That message is completely devoid of anything interesting. We can glean you’re a product of the T9 generation and have lazy English skills. If your fingers are lazy via text message, how am I to assume you wouldn’t be lazy when it’s time to pet the kitty?
But if women don’t respond to these generic, lazy messages the senders decide the appropriate response is verbal degradation via text message. I ignore you, so I must be a whore. I’m not interested, so now I’m a fat bitch who will die alone. You were attracted or intrigued by something that compelled you to send me a message but now I am fat, ugly, and a slut? Why? A million times why?
Why would you want to converse with someone who isn’t interested in you? Are you chatting them up to win a bet? Do you win if you turn the fat, ugly, slutty girl into the prom queen?
Basic logic would dictate if a woman is more selective of her potential dates, she is the opposite of the societal definition of slut. Yet when men are faced with rejection or hurt from women, they have a Rolodex of words to sling at her.
When a man calls a woman a slut or whore or a slutty whore it reflects upon his belief that women should be chaste. This particular kind of douchebag believes a woman’s worth lies in her ability to keep her legs shut. She is to be a virginal vessel for his inferiority complex. He hates women, loathes them because they bring out all of his deepest and darkest insecurities. He fears women for the power they hold over him. Women act as a mirror reflecting back his biggest shortcomings. Instead of attempting to grow and learn from his mistakes, this man blames everyone else for his problems. Most of all he blames women.
The man who slings around “bitch” and “cunt” is the same man who thinks women are beneath him. Your mere existence fills him with rage. He wants to hate-fuck you, then shame you for having sex. This man will seek opportunities to argue with women, especially on the Internet where he gets to do so anonymously. Internet stalking is the only sport he’s excelled at because he doesn’t need rhyme, reason, or rhetoric. He’s brave with his facelessness and suffers no consequences; this is the only arena he succeeds in.
Our entire existence is solely based on being visually appealing to him. If you aren’t physically perfect, he finds you useless. Women are to be symmetrical and perfectly sized, or else he doesn’t want to speak to you. This guy wants to admire you without addressing you as a human being. Women are like Christmas ornaments, used as a display to impress his guests and light up the room, then later shoved in a box and hidden away.
Every ugly slur they throw at the women who cross their paths via dating or the Internet is projection. It says far more about him than about her. These men should be pitied, but not too much. Eventually their bodies will corrode just like their blackened and pus-filled souls. They carry the seeds of their own destruction within their own nutsacks.