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Dating Apps Feel Broken, Let's Talk About It

Circle Team6 min read

Open any dating app and you'll see the promise in seconds: more options, less awkwardness, meet someone tonight. And for a lot of people, it works—at least at first.

But if you're a college student in the U.S., you've probably also felt the other side of it: the weirdness, the burnout, the safety anxiety, the sense that you're "networking" instead of connecting. You're not imagining it. Online dating is now normal—53% of Americans ages 18–29 have used a dating site or app—but the experience is increasingly mixed.

Here's what's going wrong.

1. The stranger problem: more access, more risk

Dating apps are built around one core mechanic: meeting strangers. That's the feature—and the risk.

Americans are split on whether online dating is safe—only 48% say it's a very or somewhat safe way to meet people. The bigger issue is what actually happens on the apps: 48% of dating app users say they've experienced at least one form of harassment—like unsolicited explicit messages, unwanted continued contact, name-calling, or threats.

The numbers get more specific—and more unsettling:

  • 38% have received unwanted sexually explicit messages or images.
  • 30% have had someone keep contacting them after they weren't interested.
  • 6% have been threatened with physical harm.

And once people meet in person, risks can spike. An analysis of 1,968 acquaintance sexual assaults (2017–2020) found 14% occurred after a dating-app first in-person meeting, with severe violence markers reported in many cases.

Even if you avoid physical danger, there's financial risk. The FTC reported $547 million in romance-scam losses in 2021. Dating apps didn't invent manipulation—but they massively expand a scammer's reach.

Net effect: apps create a high-volume pipeline to strangers, and users are left to do the safety work themselves.

2. The "profile" problem: people turn into thumbnails

A profile is a weird format for human connection. It's a highlight reel—photos, a couple prompts, maybe a joke. And because it's fast, it encourages fast judgment.

That design choice creates two painful realities:

  • Looks dominate the early funnel, even though that's not what many people say matters most.
  • Charisma doesn't translate: someone can be magnetic in person and "average" on a static profile.

One reason dating apps feel so shallow is that they reward what's easy to measure: photos, quick reactions, instant "yes/no." Meanwhile, the traits that actually predict relationship quality—kindness, humor, values, emotional maturity—are harder to convey in three pictures and a caption.

This disconnect shows up in preference research, too. Cross-country research found people generally prioritize personality over looks when asked directly. Yet most apps still operate like a visual marketplace.

Net effect: apps don't just show preferences—they shape them, nudging dating toward superficial sorting.

3. The abundance problem: "more options" becomes choice overload

At first, endless options feel like freedom. Over time, it starts to feel like homework.

Researchers have studied how too many options can backfire in online dating. One study found that when participants chose from a larger set of potential partners, they were less satisfied with their selection and more likely to reverse it later.

Other research links high "partner availability" to worse psychological outcomes. One experiment found that exposure to many dating profiles increased choice overload, decreased self-esteem, and increased fear of being single.

This is the vibe many users describe: the feeling that no choice is final, that someone better might be one swipe away—so you stay half-in, half-out.

Net effect: infinite choice can reduce commitment, satisfaction, and confidence.

4. The imbalance problem: some people get flooded, others feel invisible

Dating apps often create an uneven social reality:

  • Some users get too much attention (often low-quality or unwanted).
  • Others get almost none.

The split is stark: 54% of women say they felt overwhelmed by the number of messages they received, compared with just 25% of men.

That imbalance produces a predictable loop:

  • People who get flooded become more selective, less responsive, and more numb.
  • People who get ignored send more messages, get more frustrated, and take bigger social risks.

Neither side feels great. And both sides start treating the experience more like a system to game than a person to meet.

Net effect: the platform becomes emotionally asymmetric—overwhelming for some, demoralizing for others.

5. The stigma problem: "I'm on Tinder" still means something

Even though online dating is mainstream, it still carries social baggage—especially on campuses, where communities are small and reputations feel fragile.

Years ago, a notable share of internet users agreed that people who use online dating are "desperate"—though that sentiment has declined over time (21% in 2013, down from 29% in 2005). That's progress—but it doesn't erase the modern stigma attached to certain apps and their reputations.

In practice, stigma shows up as:

  • avoiding apps "just in case someone I know sees me,"
  • hiding usage from friends,
  • or feeling like being on a dating app signals something about your intentions.

Net effect: many users want connection, but feel exposed just for seeking it.

6. The "digital but not physical" problem: connection without a plan

Social apps make it easy to be "connected" and hard to actually connect.

On dating apps, conversations die. On social platforms, you collect mutuals. On campus group chats, you flirt anonymously and then hit the "who gives their name first?" stalemate.

What's missing is structure that reliably turns "we should hang" into an actual hang—especially when schedules don't line up.

Net effect: modern apps create lots of contact and surprisingly little community.

So where does Circle fit?

Circle isn't built to "win" dating apps. It's built around a different assumption: college students don't need more strangers—they need better pathways from shared context → real connection.

Here's how Circle directly targets the problems above:

  • Fewer strangers, more accountability: Circle is exclusive to college students (starting at Harvard), which keeps matches inside a shared community rather than the entire internet.
  • Less looks-first sorting: Instead of swiping on people, you swipe on questions, shifting the early filter toward personality, values, and vibe.
  • Less choice overload: Circle gives you at least one match per week, intentionally limiting the "infinite options" treadmill.
  • Less awkwardness + more real-life connection: Circle supports outings (group plans like movies or skating), making it easier to meet through activity instead of a high-pressure 1:1 date.
  • Less scheduling friction: Circle is designed to consider schedules and suggest meeting times that work for both people.
  • Lower stigma: Because Circle is dating and friend-making and outings, "I'm on Circle" doesn't automatically broadcast "I'm here to hook up."

Circle won't magically remove every risk—no app can. But it's designed around a clear goal: expand your circle in real life, not just on your phone.

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