The Moment That Changed Everything

A Bold Swipe…and a Sobering Revelation

Picture this: It’s 2 a.m. on a Thursday, and I’m in my Upper East Side apartment, scrolling through yet another dating app. My hair’s in a makeshift top knot, my pajamas are a pair of too-expensive silk pants that I bought during a brief but passionate affair with the idea of “loungewear chic,” and there’s a half-empty glass of Malbec precariously perched on the arm of my sofa. So there I am, swiping like a woman trying to beat the world record for bad decisions, when it hits me.

Not because I’ve finally found a match that doesn’t prompt an immediate inner monologue of “Can he spell? Does he know what punctuation is?!” No, the revelation in question? I realize that, for all my efforts, my own profile is as lifeless as a still-life painting. And not even a Cézanne. More like a sad Craigslist listing for a wilted bouquet.

If dating apps are the online art gallery of modern love, then our profiles are the curated exhibits. Unfortunately, I was showcasing a collection about as engaging as a beige canvas hung in dim lighting.

That moment, ridiculous as it sounds, changed everything. It set me on a path of self-discovery, better bio-writing, and an eventual shift in the way I approached both dating and myself. So, let’s dive into how I went from being the Monet of underwhelming profiles (up close, a total smudge) to a masterpiece that reflected the real me.

Exhibit A: Stop Overthinking, Start Showing Up

My first mistake? Thinking I had to package myself into some unrecognizable version of ultra-perfection. My bio sounded like it was written by my high school college admissions coach: polished, overachieving, and just the tiniest bit insufferable.

“Oxford-educated art lover with a passion for Degas, jazz, and red wine. Looking for a partner in thoughtful conversation and shared adventures.”

Ew. Who even talks like that? (The answer: me, apparently, when I’m trying too hard to sound like a mysterious, cultured enigma that no one could live up to. Not even me!)

Here’s the thing: Our profiles shouldn’t read like a brochure for a conference no one wants to attend. Nobody’s drawn to perfection; they’re drawn to authenticity, quirks, and charm. So I scrapped the pretension and let myself show up as me.

This version of Veronica? She’s more grounded—and unapologetically real. My new-and-improved bio kept the art references but added a playful twist:

“Art history nerd trying to remember the last time I ate a vegetable. Ask me about the Degas painting that almost got me kicked out of the Louvre (it’s a story).”

The result? A profile that felt approachable and human instead of like a cover letter for a job I didn’t even want. (Pro tip: You don’t need to explain your whole life—just a few hooks that hint at what makes you you.)

Swipe Right on Humor, Swipe Left on Cliché

Can we take a moment to talk about clichés? If I had a dollar for every “I love long walks on the beach” bio I’ve seen, I could afford a yacht. And here’s the thing: You’re so much more interesting than tired phrases you think people want to hear. What do YOU actually enjoy?

For me? I rewrote my “interests” to embrace silly-but-true specifics:
- “Fluent in brunch menus.”
- “Religiously rewatching episodes of The Great British Bake Off.”
- “My karaoke anthem is anything Ella Fitzgerald, but with jazz hands (you’ve been warned).”

Here’s the key: humor doesn’t mean you’re not taking dating seriously—it shows you’re having fun with it. It also weeds out people that don’t vibe with your personality.

Photograph Like You Mean It

Ah, the dating profile photo. In an alternate universe, it’s a simple task. In reality, it’s a painstaking debate involving friends, filters, and a level of self-scrutiny that borders on medicinal.

Before my epiphany, I thought the goal was “look good,” so I uploaded a perfectly-edited (and perfectly-dull) headshot from a work event. But looking good isn’t the point—looking like you’re worth knowing is. The key? Authenticity with photos that tell a story.

Updated photo lineup:
1. Me at my favorite New York gallery, mid-laugh, gesturing wildly at some abstract sculpture.
2. A candid shot from a summer in Tuscany—yes, there’s red wine in hand, because priorities.
3. A playful snap of me trying (and failing) to bake croissants, flour dusting my hair and a ridiculous grin on my face.

The takeaway: People aren’t connecting with your “flawless” edits—they’re connecting with moments where you’re most alive.

Layer in the Green Flags

If posting an online profile feels a bit like standing on stage declaring “Here I am, world!” it’s because it is. But this is also why it’s key to sprinkle your bio with green flags—those relatable, confidence-building signals of what you bring to the romantic table.

For me, that meant emphasizing things like:
- Emotional availability: “For someone who’s not afraid to talk about the tricky parts of life over a good bottle of wine (or a bad pizza…).”
- Self-awareness: “Master’s degree in overthinking, paired with ongoing efforts to live in the moment.”
- Playfulness: “Bonus points if you can point me toward underrated jazz clubs or beat me at Mario Kart.”

None of this was forced. It’s me. And by painting a clear picture of who I am—and the kind of vibe I want—it became easier to attract matches who were actually a fit.

Swipe Strategy: Turn It into a Conversation, Not a Résumé

Creating a standout profile is like curating a gallery exhibit of your life—it’s ultimately about showing who you are and inviting someone to be curious about it.

If you’re not sure where to start, here’s a quick guide:
1. Do a Life Audit: What are three things that bring you joy? (Jazz music, art museums, dogs in sweaters?) Now, how can you genuinely hint at them in your bio?
2. Keep It Conversational: Write the way you’d talk to someone over margaritas, not the way you’d answer a job application question from the Renaissance Society.
3. Be Your Own Judge: Ask yourself, “Would this make me want to swipe on me?” If the answer’s no, try again.

The Final Swipe

That late-night epiphany wasn’t just about my profile; it was about embracing imperfection. Dating, like art, is inherently messy, and that’s where the beauty is.

So if your current approach isn’t yielding the kinds of connections you want, don’t despair. Sometimes, all it takes is a fresh swipe on how you’re presenting yourself—literally and figuratively.

And remember, you’re not hunting for someone to match your picture-perfect surface. You’re inviting someone who’ll stick around for the beautifully complex gallery of who you really are.