I used to treat my dating apps the same way I’d treat trips to the gym — as a means to an end. I wanted my ass to be an inch higher than it is, so I’d drag it to the gym and squat it into submission until I wanted to die. (I’ve thankfully since given into my love of yoga — and stopped obsessing over my ass.) When it came to the apps, I wanted a boyfriend, so I considered swiping a second career. I’d pore over the profiles of men, attempting to figure out whether or not they wanted a relationship. Men who I found attractive and who were up front about their desire to couple up almost always got a swipe right. The guys who listed things like, “just looking to have fun,” or, “not interested in anything serious right now,” got a swipe left. Mama didn’t have any time to fuck around. In the words of every contestant on America’s Next Top Model, I’m not here to make friends.