Dating apps were supposed to make finding love easier. And in some ways they did. But they also introduced an entirely new category of human behavior that nobody warned us about. The lazy bio. The borrowed dog. The person who says they do not really use the app but somehow has nine photos, a linked Spotify, and a full prompt section. The red flags are everywhere. And the worst part is that most of us have swiped right on at least one of them anyway.
Consider this your guide. If you see any of the following on a dating profile, close it out and keep moving. Your peace is worth more than any match.
Their first photo is a group shot and you have absolutely no idea which one they are. This is not an accident. Nobody accidentally makes a group photo their profile picture. That is a deliberate choice made by someone who either does not like how they look or knows that the most attractive person in that photo is not them. If they cannot lead with themselves, they are already hiding something before you even match.
Three words that say everything: just ask. That is not mysterious. That is not intriguing. That is someone who could not think of a single interesting thing to say about themselves and decided to make that your problem. A blank bio is laziness. A “just ask” bio is laziness dressed up as personality. We are not asking.
Every single photo is from the exact same angle. Same lighting. Same filter. Same energy. When someone only photographs well from one very specific position, that is not a preference. That is a strategy. And what it usually means is that those pictures are two to four years old and they are hoping you will not notice until you are already sitting across from them at dinner.
Whether the bio says “my ex ruined me” or “looking for someone my ex could not be,” the result is the same. You are already the third person in a situationship that has not officially ended. Nobody mentions their ex in a dating profile unless that person is still living rent-free in their head. Swipe left and let them work through it.
Tinder. Of all the apps. They chose Tinder, posted shirtless photos, filled out zero prompts, and put “not here for hookups” in the bio. The cognitive dissonance alone should be disqualifying. The app and the behavior are telling you one story. The bio is telling you another. Believe the app.
Just cars. Scenery. A sunset. A dog that has never seen them before in its life. And maybe one blurry photo from a concert in 2019 where you can sort of make out a jawline if you squint. We need to see you. The Dodge Charger is not a personality. The golden retriever is not yours. Show your face or stay off the app.
6’2″. That is the entire bio. Six foot two. As if height alone is a personality trait, a conversation starter, and a long-term compatibility indicator all at once. Height is fine. Height with zero emotional availability, no sense of humor, and nothing interesting to say about themselves is still a whole situation you do not want to be in.
They have nine photos. Their Spotify is linked. Their prompts are filled out. They answered every question in the profile builder. And their bio says they do not really use this app. The amount of effort required to create that profile versus the claim being made in the bio is one of the great contradictions of modern dating. They use the app. They just want you to think they do not need to.
You match. They send a greeting. Then within two messages they ask if you have Instagram or Snapchat and want to move the conversation there immediately. This is either a scammer running a script or someone who is very much not single and does not want a paper trail on a dating app where their partner might find them. Both options are equally bad. Neither one deserves a follow.
This one is in so many bios that it has become its own red flag category. Fluent in sarcasm means one of two things: they are perpetually negative and call it a sense of humor, or they are rude and have found a way to pre-excuse it before you even meet. Either way, they are telling you exactly who they are. Believe them.
You send a thoughtful opener. They say “haha.” You ask a follow-up question. They say “yeah.” You try one more time with something genuinely interesting. They say “lol.” This person is either talking to fifteen other people at once and you are not a priority, or they simply do not have the conversational skills to sustain a real connection. If they cannot hold a conversation during the talking stage when they are supposed to be trying to impress you, imagine what six months of texting them looks like.
Their profile says they are two miles away. You ask what part of the city they live in. They have never heard of any neighborhood you mention. The profile says Miami. The timezone says otherwise. The VPN is doing heavy lifting for someone who either lives in another country entirely or is in a relationship and does not want their location tracked. Either scenario ends the same way.Dating apps are genuinely one of the most humbling inventions of the last thirty years. They gave everyone access to everyone and then revealed that access and compatibility are two completely different things. The red flags were always there. The apps just made them easier to spot before you waste a whole dinner on them.
Swipe accordingly.
