I Thought Adding ‘Gamer’ To My Hinge Profile Would Make Dating Easier. It Didn’t.

Being single for the past five years means I’m not inexperienced in dating. I’ve been on all the apps you can imagine, from Hinge to early-days Tinder (long before it became *the* hook-up app for college-aged singles). I’ve even contemplated going to one of those speed dating events in New York City where I live, though my wallet and dignity convinced me otherwise. All this to say, I know a few things about dating online. And what I’ve learned the worst thing about dating isn’t racial fetishizing comments (ew) or the weirdo pickup lines, but the blatant misogyny I experience once I announce I’m a gamer. 

I thought announcing I’m a gamer would make dating easier. I know dating is a hellscape no matter your hobbies, but bonding over shared interests makes connecting easier, no? I guess, in theory, but since I added “being a gamer” to my Hinge prompts last year, finding my S.O. has gotten infinitely times worse. I believed adding “gamer” to my profile would eliminate the incompatibles, but instead, it only highlighted the gendered double standard I mistakenly assumed society was breaking down. 

You’d think that these days, where 72 percent of women identify as gamers, it wouldn’t be a shock to match (or meet) a woman who games. But not only do the men I’ve met on the apps act surprised that I game, but some even claim I’m lying. As if being a woman means I can’t own a console or a PC. 

I’ve been gaming long before I entered my 20s — I’m the generation that grew up on PlayStation 2, Nintendo DSi, and Xbox 360. The golden age of consoles. My mother used to take me and my sister to Blockbuster to rent the Spongebob Squarepants Movie video game and Bratz Rock Angelz. I spent the afternoons after school in GameStop, scouring the aisles for whatever game caught my wandering eye. 

Gaming has always been seen as a predominantly male hobby, despite women gaming for decades. I mean, some of the greatest games like Uncharted and Tomb Raider were created and written by women. The world's oldest video game champion was a woman. When Beyoncé said girls run the world, she didn’t *just* mean the physical one — we run the digital world too. 

And yet, even with more female representation in games and visible female players, men still doubt us. They stereotype me as a “cozy gamer.” They comment on my Hinge prompt — the one saying I own an Xbox — and ask what farming or puzzle games I play. As if I could only like reaping crops or solving escape puzzles. Which I don’t. Or, telling me they’ll teach me Mortal Kombat because *gasps* a pretty girl like me certainly hasn’t played this before.  

Never mind that my favorite game franchise is Assassin's Creed, or that I prefer playing Skyrim over Stardew Valley any day. Hell, I’ve never even loaded it up. Or that I lean toward more gory, violent story-based games like Resident Evil. 

There’s something to be said *cough* misogyny *cough* about assuming I’m just a cozy gamer. Not that there’s anything wrong with cozy games — I enjoy the occasional one here and there. However, it’s telling that men expect me to play low-stakes, soothing, and domestic-like games because I’m a woman. Like, my femininity is tied to my interests. That my gender says I can only enjoy girly things, and Animal Crossing and The Sims (which I do play!) are the only games worth my time.  

Are women only cozy gamers? Sure, we may be a high percentage of players, but I know men (even follow one on TikTok) who like Stardew Valley and Coral Island. When are we going to stop putting labels on certain interests? It doesn’t make me any less feminine that I enjoy wielding weapons and slaying demons nor does it make a man less masculine if he likes planting seeds and managing a café. 

And let me be clear, preferring action-based games doesn’t mean I want to be “one of the boys” either. I don’t, at all. I’m not a pick-me waving my arms around and saying, “Hey, choose me, love me, pick me” because I wrote “I’m a gamer” on Hinge. Like, be so serious. And yet, so many men really do think this way. 

I can’t count the number of times men assume being a girl gamer means that I don’t need all the pomp-and-show other women, women who don’t game, demand. Dates? Ha, as if. No, being a “gamer” means I must be okay with just “chilling” at their or my house. Shoot the shit, drink a little, and game. Since I’m like the boys, I don’t need to be wined and dined. I don’t need the romanticism and courting and the chivalry. ...Right? But here’s the thing: who said the normal rules of dating don’t apply if you’re a girl gamer? 

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying courting is guaranteed if you’re not a gamer. Sometimes, it doesn’t matter what your interests are; some potential partners just won’t date you. But, in my experience, I’ve become less “date-worthy” now that I’ve added a girl gamer to my profile.

Maybe my experience is a microcosm of dating in general. That is, dating is still heteronormative and extremely gendered. As much as society thinks we’ve made headway in eliminating gender roles and standards (and we’ve done some things, to be fair), we’re still at first base. A little closer to second maybe, but not totally there yet. 

Perhaps, I should’ve recognized this sooner. The writing is kind of on the wall with the rise of tradwife content on socials and the ongoing war on women and femmes’ body autonomy. It’s becoming exceptionally clear that there’s this force to put people back in boxes. That us women are supposed to stay in our respective places — the home, the kitchen, the laundry room. And if and when we do step out of these arbitrary lanes, it’s not because we generally have an interest but because we want a man’s approval. 

Some might say I’m overthinking the experiences of a few bad men, but it’s never just a few bad men. The way men gaslight me about gaming is the same way men believe Megan Thee Stallion doesn’t like anime. Both situations exemplify men gatekeeping certain interests and subtly reinforcing the idea that women don’t actually like these things and are only faking it for popularity, male acceptance, or some other stupid ass reason. 

I could take the easy way out and remove being a gamer from my Hinge. It certainly would stop (most of) the sexist messages. But why should I hide a part of me to appease a man? I could say something corny, like the right partner would love me, regardless of what I do in my free time. And that’s partly true. But frankly, I could give less Fs about what men online think of me. 

I don’t need the opinions of mid-20s men. I don’t need their respect or validation because, honestly, when have I — or other female gamers, hell women, period — ever had it? So, in a way, I’m grateful for this misogynistic hellscape. I’m grateful for all the gaslighting and chauvinist messages I’ve received from strangers online. It shows me that certain men aren’t open-minded enough to take all of me in — the girl whose entire closet is the color pink and sings Billie Eilish heartbreak songs in the shower but also likes knocking out strangers in Assassin’s Creed Odyssey and completing brutal Mortal Kombat finishes in her downtime. I’m a complex being, baby, and that’s just too much for some of you.