Between Dates
Your Dating Profile Isn't the problem. You Are.

Everybody blames the apps. ”They’re all bots.” ”Nobody reads anymore.” ”Dating’s just broken now.”
The apps aren’t broken. Your half-effort is. And half-effort is the most common thing on every dating app there is, which is actually good news — it means clearing a low bar puts you ahead of most people instantly.

So before you delete another one in frustration, look at your own profile like a stranger would. Three blurry photos, a bio that says ”just ask,” openers that never get past ”hey” — you’d swipe left on yourself, and you know it. Fix the three things you actually control.
Your photos are doing 80% of the work, so stop phoning them in. You need a clear shot of your face, no hat, no sunglasses, actually smiling. One photo of you doing something you genuinely like. One full-length, because hiding it reads as hiding something. That’s it. No group photos where nobody knows who you are. No gym mirror. No fish. The bar is low and most people trip over it — clearing it puts you ahead of half the app.
Your bio has one job: give them something to grab onto. ”Just ask me anything” gives them nothing, so they say nothing. Write one real line about your actual life. ”I take my kids hiking on weekends and I make a serious breakfast.” Specific. True. Easy to reply to. People can’t start a conversation with a blank wall.
Your first message is not ”hey.” ”Hey” is the texting version of standing there silently. It puts all the work on them, and they’ve got twenty other ”heys” to ignore. Read their profile. Find one thing. Ask about it. ”You said you just got back from Colorado — were you out there hiking or skiing?” Took me ten seconds. It works because it proves you actually looked.
Here’s the part nobody wants to hear: you’re probably not unlucky. You’re putting in the bare minimum and calling it bad luck, because bad luck doesn’t require you to change anything. Drop that story and the apps get a lot less ”broken.”
Tonight’s move: open your profile right now and look at it like a stranger would. Swap your worst photo. Rewrite your bio into one real sentence. Then go send one message that proves you read the profile. One. That’s the whole assignment.
You don’t need better luck. You need to actually try. There’s a difference, and it’s the only one that matters.
Got a bad date story?
Send Michael your worst one.
He reads every single one. The worst — and the funniest — get broken down in a future post (kept anonymous unless you say otherwise). Tell him what went wrong.
One straight-talk dating email a week.
No fluff, no spam. Just the next move.
Stop coasting. Plan the next one on purpose — and just show up.
Plan it in Tryst