Dear OKCupid,

After all these years together, I owe you an explanation. I don’t know if you’ll find this, if you’ll read it, if you even take me seriously anymore, but I wanted you know why I’m leaving. You’ve become unrecognizable. You’re just not the app I fell in love with.

We all grow over time, but it’s obvious you’re no longer interested in what I think makes you special. Your family has so much sway over you, The Match Group- an aristocracy you were never meant to fit into, with your outsider status, your roguish charm.

But now you desperately seek their approval- abandoning your independence, quirky statistics, and visitors. I remember your endless blogs on how stated interests correlated to behavior… sitting with you for hours, learning about all the different kinds of people in the world and how they try to love each other- their hopes, their heights, if they knew the Sun was larger than Earth.

I know how your family talks, so you may already be aware, if so, then hear it from me too- Six months ago I downloaded Tinder.

There’s no excuse, I was paying for you, you’re the one I wanted, the only one I’ve ever wanted... but I was drunk, it was late, you kept crashing. I swear nothing happened at first, it was innocent, a joke even. But it’s more now. I don’t feel good opening Tinder, it’s just easier than hating you.

I’m uncomfortable with how controlling you’ve become, dictating terms, restricting messaging, forcing swipes. Every week you’ll come up with a new “feature” burden, gleeful for me to jump through your hoops.

And then, yesterday.

You wouldn’t acknowledge me until I entered my “real” first name. You stole my username without warning, without recourse. My agonizingly chosen subtle invitation, my sly wink, and, disturbingly, my shield against real-life stalkers. In this golden age of information technology, the average scumbag sexual harasser doesn’t yet know how to do a reverse image search, but with my photos, my location, AND my first name- “TeddyFingersU” is now a grandma-level google away from my linkedin, facebook, and twitter… a grimy keystroke away from my front porch. It wasn’t only my dating identity you erased, you’ve robbed me of everyone else’s username too- a vital tool to see incompatible truth in others- “William” says so much less about a potential friend than “SpankMe69”.

You callously shattered my trust, and as the pieces crashed around my head I knew that we were over, that we’d been over for a long time.

I disabled. I deleted. I’ve inquired about prorating my subscription.

It’s only been a day but my homescreen feels so alien without you in the bottom right, cheery magenta and warm with promise. Love always waiting in your badge number.

Our nine years of ups and downs, gone. All the support I’ve given you- introducing you to my friends and family, money for your crazy experiments- I realize now you were changing and I was trying to stay on your good side, your “A List”, but did you ever really appreciate it?

I’ll always miss what we had when times were good. The fun, how easily you helped me meet the coolest people, how much I learned about myself answering your questions. I’ll never forget when you told me I was beautiful. I’m a better person because of you, and I hope you can learn to be a better app because of me.

What we had was real, this end doesn’t make it less real, but I’m not looking back. I have a good thing going right now. Tinder doesn’t have the best reputation, but it’s simple, it knows what it is and stays true to that- left is bad, right is maybe, and don’t talk too much. It’s nothing compared to 2014 OKC, but late 2017 OKCupid? I swipe left.

Take care of yourself. Your new friends don’t have your best interests at heart, and I dread watching you become what we both used to hate.

Goodbye,

Sarah