My four key takeaways from Netflix’s ‘The Tinder Swindler’
Over the weekend, I watched “The Tinder Swindler” on Netflix, partly because it sounded interesting, and partly because it directly relates to my job as an online dating coach. I’ll admit it was a riveting story, but I don’t agree with the conclusion that some are coming to: Tinder is inherently bad.
First, for those who haven’t seen the documentary, here’s a brief rundown: A man puts himself on Tinder with lots of things — boats, cars, lavish trips — indicating a type of lifestyle that appeals to some women. (I’ll never quite understand this. To me, humor takes the cake, but who am I to judge?)
Anyway, he matches with women, many from Scandinavia, flies them to foreign and exotic places on “his” private jet, wines and dines them, asks them to be his girlfriend, and then after a certain period of time, asks them for money… and many (in the order of $10 million worth) abide because he’s built a certain level of intimacy and trust over time. It’s sickening when you think about it. He’s a conman, and he’s using his looks and clothing — and I guess partly his personality — to lure people in. And it works… until it doesn’t.
Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, below are the four key takeaways I took from the captivating story of Shimon Hayut, aka Simon Leviev:
1. This is not a Tinder problem. Rather, it’s a problem with being able to curate any life you want to portray online. It’s not catfishing; it’s conning. But I sincerely believe that the focus was on Tinder because no other movie name would have gotten the same mass appeal. People sickly love hearing stories go wrong from internet dating. It’s not online dating that’s scary, though… it’s certain people. But “Bar Bandit” or “Charming Cheater” wouldn’t have made it to Netflix’s Top 10 list. “The Tinder Swindler,” on the other hand, was a much more titillating title.
2. “Love bombing” is a more recent term in the dating lexicon.
The concept is not new — it’s when someone comes on so strongly at the beginning with loving words and promises about the future. It’s a manipulation tactic to make you feel special, especially people with insecurities. But what are words with no actions? Nothing. And it sometimes leads to a mentally abusive relationship where the “love bomber” is saying/doing loving things to essentially hold power over someone. I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again: You don’t owe anyone anything if they CHOOSE to spend money on you.
3. I don’t believe in questioning “too good to be true,” but I do believe in trusting your gut and listening to friends (the ones who can objectively be happy or worried for you) or a therapist.
A good practice is to role play, where a friend repeats your story back to you as if it’s her own situation (in this case, it was mostly women). What advice would you give? If it’s “Don’t get on a private jet with a stranger after you’ve met for a one-hour coffee,” then strongly think about why you’d tell that to someone else but not to yourself.
4. Lastly, if someone is treating you like a queen (with the flowers and love notes and sweet nicknames) before they know the true queen you are — for who you really are (not just a generic package) — then we have problems.
Perhaps they like the idea of you, but you want someone to like you for the real you, inside and out.
Whether you watch the documentary or not, please take these pointers into account in any dating situation. I’m the last one to go into situations with skepticism. I’m more than comfortable telling clients to meet sooner rather than later and exchange phone numbers for contingencies. I believe people are innocent until proven guilty. But the minute things get fishy, it doesn’t matter how much someone has done for you (and in this case, paid for you) — you can get out.