The silence of a new apartment is a specific kind of heavy. I had just unpacked my last box in this city—let’s call it my new European adventure—and realized that while I had a great view of the cobblestone streets, I had absolutely no one to share a coffee with.
Naturally, I did what every modern expat does: I downloaded the usual neon-colored apps. You know the ones. Swipe right, swipe left, match, send a “Hey, how’s it going?”, and watch the conversation die a slow, agonizing death. It felt like a video game where the objective was to collect faces, not meet humans. I was tired of the dopamine loop. I wanted a conversation that lasted longer than three exchanges.
That’s when I stumbled onto something different. It wasn’t flashy, and it didn’t promise instant gratification. It was a platform called **MySpecialDates**.
The first thing that struck me was the pacing. On other apps, the bio is usually an emoji string or a sarcastic one-liner. Here, I found profiles that actually read like introductions. People wrote about their weekends, their favorite books, and their genuine hesitation about online dating. It felt… grounded.
I decided to try a feature that felt almost archaic in 2024: sending a "Letter." Not a DM, not a snap, but a structured message that required me to sit down and actually think about what I wanted to say. I found a profile of a local art teacher who mentioned she loved obscure 80s synth-pop. Instead of double-tapping a photo, I wrote to her. I asked about her favorite track and told her how I was struggling to find a decent vinyl shop in the city.
It took a day for a reply, not five seconds. And that wait was actually refreshing.
I used
https://myspecialdates.com/ for about two weeks before I realized why it felt different. The site operates on a rhythm that discourages spam. Because interactions require a bit of intent (and yes, credits), nobody is there to just waste time. If someone writes to you, they aren't copy-pasting that message to fifty other people. They chose to talk to *you*.
When the art teacher wrote back, she didn’t send a "lol." She sent three paragraphs. She told me about a hidden basement shop in the Jewish Quarter and gave me a list of local bands I needed to check out. We exchanged four or five long letters before we even mentioned meeting up.
We finally met at that vinyl shop she recommended. I was nervous. I almost tripped coming in the door because I was checking my phone map. When I saw her, there wasn't some cinematic explosion or "magic moment." It was just… comfortable. We already knew we had things to talk about. The awkward small talk had been handled in our letters weeks ago.
We spent two hours flipping through records and arguing about which Depeche Mode album is the best. It wasn't a fairy tale ending; we didn't run off into the sunset. But it was a real, human afternoon with someone who actually wanted to be there.
If you are tired of the infinite scroll and want to find people who are willing to put effort into a sentence, this might be the shift you need. It’s not about finding perfection; it’s about finding resonance.
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