The Love Series – Part 3: The Tinder Wedding

Greetings! It’s me! As you know, I have launched a little Love Series on my blog for the month of February  – in part to celebrate our pal St Valentine, and in part to spread love to combat ALL THE DOOM AND GLOOM IN THE WORLD. 

Next up is The Impossible Dream…..A Tinder Wedding! I think it’s fair to say, if you’ve been single over the last 5 years or so, you’ve probably tried a dating app. Tinder, Ok Cupid, Plenty of Fish – I even splashed out on a month’s subscription to Guardian Soulmates once, in my desperation to put an end to ‘Wanna bang’ messages of doom. Sometimes it can feel like a soul-less minefield with no hope, but that’s when we need a story of a Tinder Wedding to swoop in with some some much needed hope. 

And so, without further ado, let me introduce today’s guests on the blog Lily and Irish. Irish is actually called Darragh, but ever since I’ve known Lily, she has called him Irish. So Irish he shall be. 

If it wasn’t already obvious by the set up, Lily and Irish met on Tinder. And they’ve kindly agreed to share their story! 

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So, were you avid Tinder users or occasional perusers when you spotted each other’s profiles?

Lily – I hate people, Susie, that was my Tinder bio. I don’t even pretend to know how to internet. I was NEVER an avid or earnest user if I’m honest. I was running a silly project called Tinder Hour on Twitter, which essentially involved me dying a little inside as I surveyed the singles landscape, on my phone, in the dark, while rocking slowly in a corner. The last time I was single, I was 25 and computers were NOT the way to meet people. Tinder was not something I took remotely seriously.

I’d occasionally right-swipe on people I liked but then never sent or responded to their messages. The posturing rituals of first conversations exhausted me and so I remain will forever remain a mystery to the 5 people that asked and never got a response to “Wanna fuck”. I’m an ENIGMA, Susie. I’m mysterious as hell. I bet they still wonder…

Seriously though, I in no way thought ANYONE actually dated after meeting on apps like Tinder. Not REAL dating, the kind that comes with a shared sock drawer and bin responsibilities. I thought it was a sex app, for a LONG TIME, I just called it “the young people’s sex app”. I’d just come back from Australia with my little daughter so my requirements as a misanthropic, hyper self-aware single-mother were NICHE to say the least. Ain’t nobody got time for a booty call on a Tuesday night from a guy called Dan from South London. No mate, I’m an insomniac that’s got to be up at 6 am for the school run, sex app elsewhere please! (I feel the exact same way (minus the school run!) – Bye Dan from South London!) 

Irish –  I’d been in London for a year and was using Tinder on a relatively regular basis. I’d go through a spurt of activity, then get bored of it, then get on it again. It was an easy way to meet people that didn’t require getting atrociously drunk.

So, what caught your eye on each other’s profiles and made you swipe right?

Lily – When I saw Irish’s profile, my first thought was “How many people has he killed?” and right swiped immediately. “Maybe Murderer” is my type apparently. His profile picture was one of him looking miserable on some steps and I was like “SIGN ME UP!”

There was just…something….he sort of halted me in my tracks. I liked him but I didn’t know WHY. Has that ever happened to you? One of his pictures was of him wearing a shiny suit, it was space shiny, new 50p shiny, and I reasoned that no man that owned such a shiny suit could know that it was in fact the year 2013. Humanity was counting on me to destroy that suit. I HAD TO date him.

When you’re young, you think you have a ‘type’, that type is less about you and more about them, relationships fail and fail and fail again and you learn a little about yourself if you’re lucky. My type aged 33 was someone that I liked enough to wash my hair and leave the house for, someone that I found myself day-dreaming about. Irish and his hideous suit did exactly that.

Irish – I thought her selfies were parody poses (they weren’t). She also had ‘I don’t like people’ in all caps as her tag line which felt like a challenge. The fact that I thought she was good-looking helped too.

Who made the first “text” move?

Lily – He did.

Win.

WHAT?

He was unbelievably rude and had my full attention from his first message, *because it’s important to know thy enemy*. I was fully planning to Sun Tzu his offensive shit up but instead ended up asking him to marry me. It was love at first slight. Don’t. I hate myself.

Irish – The timing of the first message move is disputed but I maintain I waited a couple of weeks between matching and messaging. My opening gambit was that she did a good line in disgruntled selfies, for which I was accused of negging.

*evidence enclosed*

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How much chat was there before you decided you wanted to meet IRL?

Lily – SO MUCH. First he told me he was married to a woman called Daisy, and then he went on to claim Fred West as a cousin when I asked if he was on Tinder to meet and murder people. Totally pathological. For someone that professes to hate ‘banter’ I couldn’t help myself. He was funny, eloquent, super sharp and not remotely terrified of me. I loved talking to him and like a total impatient bastard, asked him when we were meeting for a drink after a week of having him reject hours of texting me for chapters of Pride and Prejudice.

Irish – Lots. I told her I was married (to a girl called Daisy – I was reading The Great Gatsby at the time) and was the cousin of Fred West. I think these were the clinchers. We met about a week or so after.

Haha… who could resist?!

How long before you both decided the relationship was serious and it was time to delete your tinder accounts?!

Lily – I fell in love with him on our first date so that was pretty much the end of Tinder and I. I haven’t deleted the app, like a sentimental fool I sort of treasure the conversation we had and go back and read it sometimes. I look at the other matches and messages I got and marvel at how lucky I’ve been. At how lucky HE’S been actually. I snore like your dad and can set fire to pasta. He’s truly blessed.

IrishShe still has hers. Does that mean we’re not serious?

Well, we all need a back-up plan, right?!

Have you ever lied about where you two met?

Lily – HELL. YES. I remember when my parents first asked where we met, I was totally unprepared for the question and spat out some bs about meeting him at a party hosted by a close friend, but put on the spot, I didn’t say the names of ANY OF MY FRIENDS did I? I came up with the name of one of his ex-girlfriends instead like a total psycho. I’m not great at lying. My mother knows. She knows.

His story involves a parachute rescue. No one believes us. I blame him.

I would too, Lily.

Irish – Lie is a strong word. Deliberately vague is a better description. We did agree on a story where I saved her life in mid-air on a plane jump when her parachute didn’t open. Not sure it got much of an airing in the end.

And finally, what’s the status of your relationship now?

Lily – Reader, I married him. I’m currently knocked up and unable to put on my own shoes and socks.

He’s the love of my life.

Irish – Married and expecting!

*Altogether now* “Awwwwww”… I mean,  HAS THERE EVER BEEN SUCH A JOYOUS TALE OF LOVE?! Lily and Irish – thank you SO much for telling your glorious story – and so many congrats on the baby! I shall remember this tale of love every time I almost throw my phone out of the window after sexxxxxxy4uuuuu sends me ANOTHER damn message – it’s the Urban Legend that I know for a fact to be true. Hallelujah! 

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