Thanks to the all-inclusive power of the Internet, you were scrolling through goths and triathletes and electricians and investment bankers and chefs, and suddenly it didn’t seem so crazy to start trading emails with someone who rooted for the wrong sports team or even lived across the country.
These people didn’t go to your college, and they didn’t know your friends (or your mom).
Maria Boden, a 36-year-old senior executive at a Boston company, has tried the whole gamut of dating sites and apps, from Match and e Harmony to Tinder and Elite Singles.
She has heard about The League and would like to test it out.
“The reality is that there is a lot of people online,” he said.But 20 years later, that diverse pool of potential daters hasn’t grown broader and deeper—it’s been subdivided into stupidly specific zones.The process started with Tinder (and later Hinge) requiring social media integration.The most selective of all, Raya, is invite-only—you basically have to be a celebrity with a sizable Instagram following to be asked. Apps now exist for pairing people based on the right astrological sign (Align), an affinity for sci-fi (Trek Passions), similar eating habits (Veggiemate), and a love of weed (My420Mate).Having interests in common is not a bad thing—especially if, say, religious identity is important to you—but making sure every potential match has a beard (Bristlr) or is at least 6'4" (Tall People Meet) means interacting only with the segment of humanity we think we’ll like.