My husband and I have been together for nearly 29 years. Early in our relationship, we started exploring online communities, connecting with other gay men through sites like Bear411 and ISPQ. We weren’t drawn to bars or the beach; instead, we found a more comfortable space for socializing online. As technology evolved, we moved onto apps like Grindr, Scruff, and Growlr, where we met new people and found lasting friendships, not only online, but also in person.
However, the apps can be frustrating. Too often, users with empty profiles, who haven’t shared at least a face picture, demand personal information, photos, and even locations, and they can be rude when you don’t respond immediately. One guy I had just met on Scruff didn’t like that I hadn’t responded to a message after two or three minutes. So he texted, “Yeah, another dud.” I find the impatience and arrogance on these platforms disturbing. I don’t devote time to just sitting on my phone, but often chat online while I’m doing other things.
A few years ago, I deleted the apps altogether, relying solely on Facebook and Instagram to connect with others online. That was until I began working on this article. I mentioned the topic to my friend Jeff Kagan, who introduced me to his cousin, Dr. Nan Wise, a sex therapist. Ironically, I met Jeff on Grindr 10 years ago when he created a profile to form a gay bowling league. My husband and I joined the league, and we’ve been friends with Jeff ever since. We are friends in person, I want to emphasize.
After speaking with Jeff, I rejoined Grindr, Scruff, and Growlr to see if things might be better. I called Dr. Wise, a licensed psychotherapist, cognitive neuroscientist, certified sex therapist, board certified clinical hypnotherapist, and certified relationship specialist. She is the author of the book Why Good Sex Matters, and lives in West Orange, New Jersey.
We shared negative views of these apps and discussed some of their harmful effects, but she did offer some benefits. “If you’re in a sexual minority it gives you access to more people,” she advised me. But she warned, “It’s been sabotaging our social interactions. It’s very much like gambling. It hooks your attention. It depletes our dopamine. If you are gamifying your dating life, it’s hijacking your ability to have really good, deeper connections.”
We talked at length about how to use the apps wisely, whether you’re looking for a hookup, a date, a serious relationship, or just friends, all of which are possible with judicious care.
She then sent me on to a colleague of hers. Joe Kort is the founding director of The Center for Relationship and Sexual Health in Royal Oak, Michigan. He is a psychotherapist with a doctorate in clinical sexology, a licensed master social worker, coach, author and influencer. He is the host of the podcast Smart Sex, Smart Love.
He comforted me with many positive consequences of hookup apps. He told me, “It comes down to how you want to use that app, not the app. It’s a tool. It’s not the tool’s fault. I think what has increased, for sure, is the interaction. So even if it’s masturbatory, you’re having access to live, interactive porn. I don’t know if there’s more connection, but there’s more interaction.”
We talked about the lack of mystery when you know so much about someone, and have seen pictures of pretty much everything before you’ve even met. He assured me, “It can also be a way of looking forward to, and building up to, the encounter. It’s like saying, ‘Oh, this is someone I’m really looking forward to meeting. I’ve gotten to know them in a way that I normally wouldn’t have.’” He said that this could help avoid getting into what he called a “mixed erotic orientation relationship” where the couple is into different things. He added, “So now they are years into their relationship, and they are like, ‘What do you mean, you’re into that? Why didn’t you say that in the beginning?’”
He speculated that gay men share more information with each other than straight people. He continued, “I love this about gay men. We don’t want to fall in love with each other if we are in a mixed erotic situation. I think it’s a cultural myth that we should have all this mystery, or that we should not know much about each other in the beginning. So, Grindr is what you make of it.”
But he also shared my misgivings about overuse of these apps. “It’s pseudo-intimacy. It makes you feel like you’re connected to people, but you’re not. It’s like junk food. It’s empty calories. There’s a higher rate of erectile disorder and dysfunction among gay men than straight men. And I believe it’s because we don’t take time to get to know each other. So, we show up, but our hard-ons don’t.”
We talked about getting to know people in person, and about how to interact in person, especially if we’ve overused a hookup app. “We don’t cruise any more because of Grindr. Nobody knows how to flirt. That’s what I think is one of the negative things about Grindr. It doesn’t teach us how to flirt. It would be nice to have a flirting Grindr.”
We talked about apps like Grindr increasing our awareness in ourselves and others of different sexual practices. Kort coined the designation “side,” which is someone who isn’t a top or a bottom or interested in penetrative sex. “I have a side group and they are all happy for it to be normalized. It normalizes sex. Different kinks and fetishes have gotten way more normalized because of these apps.”
So, I’m still on these apps, for now. It’s frustrating, but I’m going to heed the advice of my new therapist friends, and use them wisely. I will always value in-person relationships. But I’ve connected with several new friends online, and reconnected with a few guys I used to chat with all the time. I hope we can all say we’ve had some happy hunting.
