Find me a find, catch me a catch

Kelli Sexton, 22, downloaded Hinge, a dating app, for the first time last year. “The pandemic happened, and I wasn’t in school anymore,” said Sexton. “I was like, where do you meet people in your 20s?” The first guy Kelli matched with had been pretty forward over text but hardly spoke to her when they met in person.

After getting snow cones from Pelican’s and walking around the park, he tried to kiss her. She never saw him again, and she went out with two other guys before deleting Hinge. “I just found that the people I was meeting were not the kind of people I wanted to meet,” she said.

Tired of dating apps and low-commitment relationships, some singles have turned to matchmaking services. Until recently, matchmaking has been viewed as antiquated and somewhat repressive, the stuff of Victorian novels and reminiscent of arranged marriages. But some modern singles want counsel in finding a spouse.

“It’s like hiring a personal trainer,” said Jennifer Miotke, a matchmaker at One on One Matchmaking in Atlanta. “You’re not going to pay for one unless you’re serious about getting fit.”

An estimated 366 million singles worldwide use dating apps. But 45 percent of users report being “frustrated” with dating apps, and 35 percent feel “pessimistic” about their effectiveness. While some have matched with their future spouse, many have noticed that dating apps tend to promote a consumer approach to dating. Meanwhile, some app users make it very clear what they really want: A Pew Research survey found 24 ­percent admitted they are looking for casual sex.

Other “users” are actually scammers looking for money. The Federal Trade Commission reports that between 2017 and 2021, users of online dating services lost $1.3 billion to scams. Predatory use of dating apps is such a problem that Utah state lawmakers on Jan. 25 approved a bill requiring apps based in the state to include safety and reporting tips.

All these dating app downsides may be contributing to the growth of matchmaking. Jennifer Miotke has worked as a matchmaker for over 15 years. She says matchmaking simulates “meeting someone through a friend,” while online dating creates what psychologist Barry Schwartz calls a “paradox of choice” where too many options paralyze the chooser. By narrowing down the options, matchmaking can help singles feel less overwhelmed.

Dating has never been easy. But the abundance of connectivity and paradoxical lack of relationships complicate the dating scene, a new development Pastor Keith Thompson believes churches have yet to address.

Thompson, lead pastor of First Baptist Riverview in Florida, grew up in Dillon, S.C., and he remembers “the front porch era,” when people used to sit and talk to each other.

In 1950, the average man married by age 23 and the average woman ­married by 20. In 2022 the U.S. Census Bureau reported the numbers had shot up to 30 for men and 28 for women. And that’s for those who actually get married: By 2060, a projected 10 percent of Americans over 62 will have never married.

Financial challenges may explain part of the trend (try shouldering $30,000 in student debt, times two). But Thompson believes there’s more to it than money. High divorce rates ­discourage commitment, and dating apps encourage the idea of treating relationships like a buffet.

Thompson believes this is an opportunity for the church to step up. “Churches are not doing quality discipleship,” he said. “It takes a lot of effort, but there need to be leaders who are willing to invest in this new generation.” He recommends that churches emphasize their young adult ministries and that older believers make efforts to counsel young singles. Most of all, Thompson notices that parents have accepted a passive mentality about their role.

That may also be helping matchmakers’ bottom lines. Most such services charge from $3,000 to $15,000, but some elite services cost much more. (The company Serious Matchmaking has a $1 million package.) High fees tend to ensure that clients really are interested in a long-term relationship.

And while the pandemic hampered many matchmakers, Miotke says her company has bounced back and then some. Meanwhile, its revenue has increased by about $350,000 each year for the past decade.

Miotke has noticed more people in their 20s signing up, as well as some close to 30 who have never been in a relationship. One of her latest clients, a recent college grad who works as an engineer, seems to have it all. But he struggles to read social cues.

“We provide a reality check,” said Miotke. “Sometimes we have to tell ­clients that they are coming across as awkward.”

Like other singles living in this awkward, post-pandemic world, Kelli Sexton—who deleted Hinge soon after her disastrous snow cone date—­wonders how she is supposed to meet people without going to a club or online. For now, she plans to put herself in social settings without the help of dating apps. “I know that people do have luck on dating sites,” said Sexton. “But I think there is something special about organically meeting someone.”