I have never actually used a dating app, but I know how they work. I’ve had friends in the online dating game.You look at a face on your screen for two seconds, and your thumb decides. Right for yes. Left for no. No overthinking or justification. Just a flick.
I thought of this yesterday while standing in front of my closet, staring at a blouse I’ve had for several years and worn maybe twice. I wasn’t swiping on a person. I was swiping on a look I thought I wanted once–a look never quite felt right for me. We all have those outfits we bought and then later thought, what was I thinking?
Swipe left.
Here’s the thing about that dating app feature we can borrow; the entire system runs on fast, low-stakes intuition. Nobody agonizes over a swipe. You don’t like the picture, you don’t like the caption, something in your gut says, not this. Swipe left–there it goes, no apology, no long conversation explaining why.
Next.
If something about it feels right to you and your intuition says yes, I like it. Swipe right.
Next.
Somewhere between raising children, building careers, and anticipating everyone else’s needs, a lot of us lost that intuitive response. The one that says, no, thank you without a need to justify the decision. And the one that says, yes, please, without checking first whether it’s something we want.
Over the years, we became very good at swiping right on obligations to others. Someone asks, we say yes. Often without checking in with ourselves, our needs and wants. Then something that used to feel right doesn’t anymore, but we keep saying yes anyway. We’ve become known as “the person who does this”, or because saying no feels like quitting.
That’s not intuition. That’s autopilot.
Intuition is different. Intuition is noticing.
It’s the pause — even a half-second one — where you actually check in before your thumb moves or before you say automatically say yes.
Does this bring me energy or drain it?
Do I feel excited or feel dread?
Am I doing this because I want to, or because my 8-year-old self is still trying to be the good girl who never disappoints anyone?
Often, when we say yes to someone else’s need, we’re saying no to our own needs.
Lately, I’ve started running my own version of the app in my head–on my stuff, my time, my energy, and my commitments. The book club that stopped being fun two years ago: swipe left. The friend’s dinner party where I love the conversations and always leave feeling great: swipe right. The piece of clothing that no longer fits who I am today, or how it makes me feel: swipe left. My Sunday morning ritual of coffee on the patio before anyone else is awake: swipe right.
None of this requires a dramatic life overhaul. It’s smaller than that. It’s the blouse in my closet. It’s the standing Thursday social obligation I once loved and don’t any more. It’s the friend who leaves you feeling exhausted or diminished after a visit, compared to the friend who leaves you feeling like your best self.
Swipe right on what’s good for you. Swipe left on what isn’t. Repeat.
The part I had to learn — and am still learning — is that swiping left isn’t rejection. It’s not failure, and it’s not unkindness. It’s just information. It’s my intuition doing its actual job, which is to protect the parts of my life that are genuinely mine to protect.
Swiping right doesn’t need to be earned, either. You don’t need permission to like what you like. You don’t need to justify the bouquet of tulips, the trip you take with your best friend, a 3-day writing retreat, or the hour you spend doing absolutely nothing productive on a Tuesday afternoon. Right is right. Move toward it.
I’m not saying life is actually as simple as a two-second thumb flick — obviously it isn’t, and some choices deserve a more thoughtful response, not a quick swipe. But I think a lot of us have been over-complicating the easy ones. We get stuck with mentally trying to justify choices our intuition settled in half a second, if we’d only let it.
So here’s my small invitation this week: notice one thing — one commitment, one habit, one piece of clothing — and ask, quickly, honestly: right or left? Then trust the answer. You don’t owe the wrong things an explanation. And you don’t owe the right things an apology.
Swipe accordingly.
