Straight men are using gay dating apps for ego boosts

Less than an hour before a hookup, I was hit with that most dreaded of texts: ‘Sorry but I can’t come today.’ 

Wanting to give the benefit of the doubt, I replied asking if he wanted to rearrange. Only, this time, my message went undelivered. 

There was no mistaking what that meant – I’d been blocked. 

I had met 32-year-old Jimmy* on Grindr, and we had spent half of the night exchanging nudes and compliments.

He told me he was just looking for a casual hookup early on into our conversation, so while I never expected much to come from meeting him, it still stung to realise I was just his 3am bit of fun.  

Then again, I suppose I should have seen it coming. He did tell me he was straight, after all.

Finding a straight man on a gay dating app is like spotting a cloud in the sky these days – they’re everywhere. In fact, to a certain extent, it feels like our platforms have been infested by them.  

But what, I hear you ask, are heterosexual men doing on these platforms? Why go through these interactions if there’s nothing to gain?  

The simple answer: They’re in it for the ego boost. 

It’s no secret that the way we date has evolved in recent years. As a key example, digital platforms continue to dominate the modern dating world with 72% of Brits meeting through apps. 

However, research shows that some people are using these digital spaces not to date, but to seek validation, and to be liked and affirmed. And I for one have been stung by this on more than one occasion. 

When I matched with 20-something Harry*, we had a lot of virtual fun. 

We spent two weeks entertaining each other online exchanging intimate photos and several flirty conversations, until eventually we set a time and place for a date. 

On the day we were supposed to meet, he became unresponsive, so I chased him down, asking if we were still on. That’s when he admitted he was straight.   

At that moment, a weird feeling erupted in my chest; it wasn’t heartbreak, more a question of how I could have got it so wrong and I knew I wanted, and deserved, answers. 

‘What was the point?’ I asked, to which he blurted out something about how it ‘felt good’ and how he’d liked it when I’d ‘gassed him up’ – GenZ for ‘giving compliments’. 

Suddenly I started thinking back to conversations I’d had with other men who I’d thought had ghosted me. 

If my conversations with Harry had given him a sense of validation all from a few compliments, then maybe other men who never followed through were in the same position – straight and seeking an ego boost. 

While I tried to get my head around that, one question remained: If these men seek validation, why not turn to their heterosexual counterparts?  

Once upon a time, I suppose straight men could have expected to get their egos inflated by straight women. But from what I’ve gathered, mostly through conversations with the women in my life, many women aren’t here to stroke men’s egos anymore. 

It’s like they’ve developed a no nonsense attitude towards attention-seeking men. 

While I applaud that, it means these men are then left searching for new places to feel validated – and that’s why they’ve turned to our queer spaces.

And sadly, in a world where queer people still desire to be seen, these men are able to easily take advantage, hit us up and later neglect us. 

They’ll flirt, chat, flood us with dick pics, waiting for us to praise the size of their cocks, and tease us with the idea of meeting up, then, when they’ve had their fun, they ghost us like we were a blip.  

The flirting followed by the cancelling of plans, blocking and dismissiveness has a profound effect on queer people. It’s one thing if the guy is still struggling with his sexuality, but it’s another when he’s just using queer men for his midnight pleasure, a fleeting ego boost with no care behind it.

We’re left feeling invisible and disposable, questioning what’s real or not. 

As a community we already face discrimination, sometimes from these very men in the outside world. So when we’re exploited for their ego boosts online, it feels casually cruel.   

Though they might not be snapping heartstrings, they’re manipulating them, which feels like the worst betrayal of all. 

If you’re a straight man after some online fun, queer people just have one request: Be honest. We already struggle to find intimacy, so false promises on meeting up just deepens wounds. 

Using us as a source to boost your ego won’t get you anywhere, but being upfront with your intentions might just score you a cheeky bum pic. 

*Names have been changed

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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