Internet trolls have made Team Android vs. Team iPhone (or, as my mom likes to call them, the “iCult”) a thing for the past three years. It has always been up for debate which brand has the higher performance quality, especially as both Apple and Android keep updating their software with new versions, new layouts and more importantly, new emojis (where is my mermaid emoji!?).
I’m sure we’ve all seen the memes and tweets.
Android emojis vs iPhone emojis pic.twitter.com/31tFlpo9oP
— STEPHEN (@ITSYOURBOYTADI) April 6, 2015
This battle between Team Android vs. Team iPhone has even spilled over into the dating scene and well, it’s pretty f*cking awful. As if navigating the dating scene wasn’t frustrating enough between the worries of hookup culture and dating apps, we now have to worry about our phones. Thanks, trolls.
Whether you’re Team iPhone or Team Android, here’s the problem: it could happen to you. And rejection, whatever form it takes, sucks. Who wants to go through the pain of rejection, especially over something as petty as the kind of phone you have or what color your texts are?
I know it’s pretty hard to believe, but I’ve been there.
Before I began using HER, a dating app to meet women interested in women, my first foray into the world of online dating was through OkCupid (the more diverse and less creeper-filled alternative to Tinder).
My first few weeks on OkCupid were what you’d expect: some swipes right, some left, weird requests from couples and some nice conversations with women to whom I felt connected. I had swiped right on a girl who had similar interests to me: we both liked Ariana Grande, both wear black constantly (she’s not even from New York) and loved Kehlani’s music. She was actually the one who got me into Kehlani’s whole “not chilling with the f*ckboys” vibe.
We’d been talking for about two weeks, which might as well have been two months in lesbian dating time. I felt like we knew each other pretty well at that point, so I asked her for her number… and then it happened.
“Hey, so thanks for asking for my number,” she said. “But if the message is gonna show up green, I can’t do this.”
You know that feeling when something comes so out of left field that it ends in just a huge “what?” moment? Yeah. That happened.
I didn’t even know how to respond. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t mad, almost all my friends also have iPhones. I mean, I don’t particularly understand the whole “switching from messenger to data” thing, but phone plans aren’t cheap, so I can sympathize. It was vaguely reminiscent of a time when I was working on a group project for school and we were trying to set up a group text. I had announced, meekly, that I had an Android and I could feel everyone’s eyes practically shooting laser beams through my head. Sighs of frustration ensued.
To be honest, I don’t remember what my response was. I think I tried to play it cool and asked her what her Snapchat was to avoid further humiliation. Inside, however, I wasn’t cool. At all.
Let’s face it: dating is difficult in general. Dating as a “millennial” is even more frustrating, from the unspoken rules of hookup culture to being the perpetually single friend while you watch your drunk bestie make out with every guy at the club. But dating feels like even more of a black hole for members of the LGBTQIA+ community, who have limited access to certain spaces where it’s easier for those who identify as straight to find a potential partner. Yes, there are gay and lesbian bars and clubs in some big cities like New York, but even these spaces, while established for the purpose of being inclusive, can feel cliquey. Add in the “problem” of not adhering to a rigid LBGTQIA+ stereotype upon first glance and it gets even messier. If I’m being honest, that’s why I prefer dating apps over trying to search for someone in real life. Are there limitations and pitfalls to this strategy? Of course.
When people throw in other unnecessary filters, like rejecting the possibility of a relationship simply because of whether or not one has an iPhone or Android, it only adds to the isolating feeling of “will I ever find someone?” Why is it a make or break situation? When it gets down to it, the whole point of creating and maintaining relationships is through communication, even if it’s just sending memes back and forth. Why should it matter if my partner has an iPhone and I have an Android? I don’t care that my text pops up green on her phone, all I want to do is ask her how her day is or if she finally binge-watched The Bold Type.
So word to the wise, collegiates: think before you curve someone just because they have a different phone than you.