It all started with a swipe—one careless, casual flick of my thumb while crammed between two indifferent strangers on the Paris Métro. I wasn’t even looking properly. I was tired, hungry, annoyed by how aggressively someone’s perfume was invading my personal space. But there it was: his face, his bio, his unapologetically awkward joke about pineapple on pizza. And with that singular, mindless motion, I had unknowingly set in motion the moment that would change everything—not just in my dating life but in how I understood myself.

At the time, I didn’t know it would be pivotal. Life rarely announces these things with confetti and flashing neon arrows. Instead, it felt like the routine tedium of modern dating: endless swiping, unmatchable algorithms, and trying to answer “what I’m looking for” without launching into existential doom. But that one swipe—that one willingness to scroll through a stranger’s photos? That led not just to a relationship but to a revelation. Let me explain.

The Swipe That Sparked an Identity Crisis

So, here’s what you need to know about me back then: I was fresh out of my PhD program, living in London and feeling entirely too serious about, well, everything. Career? Must save the world. Dating? Must meet someone who aligns with my five-year plan, supports my feminism, and ideally already knows how to make kanafeh. Basically, I was treating romance like a job interview for a position at my imaginary nonprofit.

Then came the swipe. His name was Sam, his profile was nonchalantly witty, and we bonded over a shared love of books and disdain for the entire concept of “icebreaker questions.” But Sam was British—decidedly un-Egyptian—and as soon as it became clear we were heading past casual texting into potential “meet cute” territory, the weight of my identity suddenly came crashing down on me. Would this even work? Could he possibly understand the intricacies of my bicultural world? Would I ever forgive myself for introducing him to the soggy disgrace that is supermarket hummus?

Turns out, I wasn’t just questioning him—I was questioning myself. For so much of my life, I had contorted myself into little boxes depending on my setting. In Paris, I leaned into being the “exotic” Egyptian girl with international flair, torn between croissants and konafa. Back in Alexandria, I was careful to downplay my Western habits so as not to seem disconnected from my roots. The thought of dating someone who might witness—and potentially misunderstand—both realities was terrifying. But also, thrilling. Which is how, two weeks later, I found myself nervously perched in a café near Regent’s Canal, having what would become the most enlightening first date of my life.

What My Tinder Date Taught Me About Being Real

Sam showed up in a cardigan and sneakers that screamed “cozy grad student energy,” and he made me laugh within the first five minutes, which was definitely reassuring. But about halfway into the date, our lighthearted chatter turned to family stories. I braced myself. Would he glaze over when I brought up the chaos of juggling immigrant expectations? Would I have to explain why my mother sometimes “jokingly” threatens to arrange my marriage if I seem too single?

Honestly? He didn’t get everything. But he tried. And that, I realized, was more important than total comprehension. When I mentioned my upbringing, he didn’t try to wrap my story into any tidy, oversimplified framework of “East meets West.” He asked questions, laughed at my anecdotes about navigating mismatched norms, and even offered a few of his own. Like how his parents still insist on keeping all the Christmas cards they’ve ever received, which, to me, felt hilariously quaint.

Here’s what that date taught me: we don’t need someone who mirrors our identity perfectly—we need someone who values it. I didn’t have to twist myself into one “version” to be understood. The more honest I was about who I was—awkward flairs of cultural weirdness included—the more meaningful the connection became. It was like Umm Kulthum meets British Bake Off, and somehow, it worked.

Making Room for the Real You on Your Profile

Looking back, the reason this new connection worked so well wasn’t just because of a lucky swipe—it was because, finally, I let myself be real. Which isn’t to say I loaded my dating profile with Middle Eastern philosophy quotes and videos of me dancing dabke at weddings. But I did stop trying to over-polish myself into someone I wasn’t. And guess what? It paid off.

So, here’s what I wish someone had told me back when all my profiles sounded like a LinkedIn bio (minus the endorsements):

  1. Skip the Clichés, Turn Up the Personality
    We’ve all seen it: “I love traveling, eating, and watching Netflix.” Sure, who doesn’t? Instead of blending into the algorithmic abyss, think about what honestly excites you, even if it’s weirdly specific. Do you have strong feelings about how coffee should be brewed? Do you secretly judge people who overcook pasta? Add those quirks! The things that seem small and quirky are often what people remember.

  2. Be Clear—but Fun—About What You Want
    Look, no one wants to wade through a literary analysis of your emotional availability. But framing what you’re looking for in a playful but intentional way helps. Swap “looking for something real” with “securing my go-to person for midnight croissant runs”—authentic and approachable.

  3. Show, Don’t Tell (Yes, This Applies to Dating Bios)
    Instead of announcing, “I’m adventurous and love my culture,” share a slice of it. Talk about the time you got lost in an Istanbul spice market or how your mom’s dolma recipe is still undefeated.

  4. Photo Wisdom: Curate, Don’t Catfish
    We all know the golden rule of online dating photos: just look like yourself! Skip the graduation headshots or Photoshop overkill. Balance casual pics with a few that highlight your favorite hobbies, places, or outfits that scream “you.” Pro tip: photos where you’re genuinely smiling or laughing perform better—because duh, everyone prefers happy vibes.

Embrace Your Chaos (It’s What Makes You Hot)

Here’s the thing no one tells you: the quirks you’re tempted to hide are often what make you most attractive. Whether it’s your tangled fusion of cultures, your obsession with murder mysteries, or your inability to eat spaghetti gracefully, these are the things that make you stand out in a sea of perfect profiles.

For me, embracing my identity—the messy, dual-sided, sometimes contradictory reality of being an Egyptian Parisian who now calls London home—wasn’t just liberating. It was magnetic. When I stopped trying to be one-dimensional, my connections deepened, and my confidence skyrocketed.

So, if you’re obsessing over how you come across in your dating photos or agonizing over the perfect bio, remember this: whoever you are, you’re enough. Your life, your story, your weird avocado toast habit—it’s uniquely yours. And out there, in this wild world of dating, there’s someone who’s waiting to swipe right for all of it.

Because let me tell you: That one little swipe, that moment that changed my life forever? It taught me to show up as my full self—and nothing less.