Not my strategy, but this brilliant article I just read on Medium was EPIC, written by Jennie Young. Shout out to this Queen!! Aligned with FDS principles 👏👏👏

[Edit: many people pointed out that this is not all aligned to FDS principles: she accepts a coffee date, the guy she likes negs her, she unmatches almost immediately without dating others, it could be argued that her profile gives away too much of her own strategy, it’s too early to tell if the man is HVM, so as you’re reading it, just be aware of this - I personally didn’t pick up on a lot when I read it, thanks for the feedback FDS community!]

In case you have a paywall, here it is:

“I’m a single woman. I also have a Ph. D. in rhetoric, so I understand how words work. I decided to put those things together in order to game online dating. Spoiler alert: It worked.

Here’s how I did it.

There are hundreds of sources out there telling you how to write your online dating profile. I took none of their advice, which includes fluffy tips such as “warmth is inviting,” and “leave out the negative and snarky” (my profile was All Snark).

A Couple of Caveats

  1. I knew full well that this profile would deter 99% of men, and that was fine with me. I didn’t want the 99%; I wanted the 1% that would “get it.” There’s no shortage of men to date, but there’s a severe shortage of men you’d actually want to date (I’m sure this is true for men looking for women as well, but I can only report from my side of the experience).

  2. I was okay with not meeting someone. I was already happy and content in my life, and I didn’t ever feel like I needed to find a partner. If finding a partner feels like a “need,” I would recommend that you run screaming in the other direction away from any and all dating apps. Take the time to be okay by yourself first, however long that might take.

Here’s My Profile

I’m a writer (humor writer, self-supporting, not a starving poet), and I’m going to write this from a different angle. Here’s my Top 10 List of what I don’t want:

  1. Hookups

  2. “Hey” messages

  3. “What’s up” messages

  4. “You up?” messages

  5. Anyone who’s “living life to the fullest”

  6. A 55-year-old man who “wants kids some day”

  7. Anyone whose profile is written in “second-person directive” voice that directs me how I should be. Here’s an example: “You should be fun-loving, honest, easy-going, and fit.”

  8. Anyone who’s easily offended by dark humor (or this list)

  9. Texting maniacs. I use texting for logistics, not actual communication.

  10. Party boys, in all iterations. I’m a family-oriented grownup with my life together, looking for same.

Last thing you should know: I’m not a “cool girl” (if you don’t know the reference, read this).

If you can get past all that, and if you’re still reading, this could work.

Less prickly section of profile: I’m a runner and cyclist (more recreational than competitive these days), and I love hiking. I’m a fan of books, coffee shops, small towns, lakes, and mountains. I haven’t traveled much internationally but want to. I’m funny. I know everyone on here claims this, but I’m pretty well-published (internet satire) and sometimes even financially compensated to be funny, so I feel like I can claim it accurately? I guess?

I can’t be attracted to anyone who doesn’t know their homonyms. I’m sorry.

I realize the last line is sort of elitist and snobby and maybe even unfair, but it’s also accurate. Additionally, I figured simply including the word homonyms would be a great weeder-outer.

NBC News, in an article that I clearly didn’t read, offers this advice: “It’s fine to say that you’re excited to meet someone who also wants to find a real and meaningful connection. That’s positive. But when you say ‘no hook-ups’ it simply reads like an angry person wrote it.” As you saw, saying “no hook-ups” is literally the first line of my profile.

The Results

Posting this profile changed everything, and it changed everything immediately. When I tried online dating a couple of times in the past, I’d used a very typical profile. And I was regaled with “Hey” messages, “Your (sic) hot” messages, men holding deer heads and dead fish, and grammar issues that made my lips curl.

When I posted this one, I got far fewer responses; that’s true. But the responses I did get were worth reading.

Dan*, for instance, wrote: “I get what you’re doing, thinning the herd, right?”

Yes, that’s exactly what I was doing.

Wayne wrote: “ ‘I can’t be attracted to anyone who doesn’t know their homonyms.’ That might be the funniest thing I’ve ever read on hear. ”

Nice, Wayne! An intentional homonym error to join in on the joke! This is what I’d been hoping would happen.

Todd wrote: “Hi Jennie, I am going to assume that you likely scared off 90% of the Wisconsin men who enjoy their beer and brats. Hoping I am the last man standing. Great read, and I can tell you are way different than most out in this strange internet dating world.”

I’m sure I did scare off 90% of Wisconsin men who enjoy beer and brats, but I don’t enjoy beer and brats, so I didn’t really care.

The messages continued to come in like this. For many of the matches, there were other factors that rendered the connection moot for me (they were separated but not divorced, there was something off-putting in their physical appearance, etc.).

And then I got a message from Scott, which began like this:

“Hey (sorry, couldn’t resist). This is hands-down the best profile I have ever read, which, if we’re being honest probably isn’t saying much considering the majority of the profiles out there, but it’s definitely something.”

I can’t say what exactly it was about Scott’s message that caught my attention over some of the others, but something did (there was more to it than this, but I’m only sharing opening lines here).

I wrote back, and then he wrote back, and then we engaged in a flurry of messaging, background-checked each other, admitted we’d background-checked each other, traded phone numbers, set up a date for that weekend, and met at a coffee shop where we talked for six hours straight.

We both disabled our Match profiles by the following day (that wasn’t an agreed-upon plan; we just both did it). We’ve been together since (that’s us in the header).

There may have been other worthwhile matches or messages for me between the time that Scott and I met and the time I shut my profile down, but at that point, I no longer cared and wasn’t checking the app.

So, for the record, I spent a total of five days on Match.com. Part of this, of course, was luck. I wouldn’t try to make a claim that my method is any kind of guaranteed magic. What I do claim, though, is that it might be worth it to try something different — something risky and unusual and honest. You might be pleasantly surprised.

*All names have been changed except Scott’s.”