Swipe Left on Online Dating

Content Warning: Sexual Harassment, Sexual Assault

When I moved to Pōneke on Valentine’s Day last year, everyone warned me about how bad the dating scene was going to be. My guard was up. I expected players, mummy’s boys, mansplainers, maybe even chlamydia. What I discovered, however, was far more sinister: men with allegations. Allegations of sexual harassment and assault.

Wherever I turned, my friends informed me, there would be men with allegations. The frontman of that local band? Allegations. The regular at my gym? Allegations. The guy in the corner at the party? Allegations. The Greens doorknocker was safe, surely? Nope. He, too, had allegations. 

It all came to a head when in May, I went on a date with a guy I’d met on Hinge. He seemed kind and respectful, had the right politics, and laughed at all my jokes. We liked the same bands, hiking, dogs, and beer—all that surface level stuff you discuss on the first date. We had chemistry. I’d hit the jackpot!

Or so I thought. The night before our second date, my friends ran into him at a bar while I was at work. They had a brief chat in the smokers’ area—no red flags. But when he left, they were approached by a mutual acquaintance, who warned them that he had sexually harassed multiple women while in halls. When they phoned me, I was shocked and appalled that I’d been none the wiser. I’d been fooled by his indie-sleaze, feminist-presenting, Pinterest-styled online persona. Needless to say, there was no second date.

As a self-proclaimed Tinder warrior since 17 (bad, I know), I’ve had my fair share of awry first dates. But for the first time, I realised what is obvious to many: when you go on a date with someone from a dating app, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. 

Unfortunately, my story doesn’t stand alone. Many people experience far worse. A Vic student responded anonymously to Salient's call out, detailing a man they met online and dated for two months. The student found out through “background research and people on Insta” that this man “had been harassing other girls before, possibly during, and after we dated.” The student was also sexually harassed during the relationship. 

Another anonymous respondent recalled briefly dating a man before having to get a protection order against him because of harassment and abuse. “He turned out to also have a prior conviction for sexual activity with a younger person.”

A survey of 51 Salient readers revealed that 25.5% had been on a date from an online dating site or app and later found out that their date had allegations of sexual harassment or assault. Additionally, 39.6% had entered into communications with someone from an online dating app or site only to later discover that the person had allegations of sexual harassment or assault. 

If you think that you’re safe because you only use dating apps as a mobile game of smash-or-pass, or an ego booster on a Saturday night, you are sadly mistaken. You don’t even need to be going out on dates to be in danger, as a female Te Herenga Waka student told Salient:

“I used to work at [redacted] gyms… I only had Tinder for a few months and quickly realised it was a stupid idea. A few guys that I knew I had already swiped ‘no’ on would come chat to me while I was working on shift. I was just being friendly as I was literally working my customer facing job… but I had to reject these men while I was at work. It got bad enough that I noticed one specific guy started following me home whenever I finished the closing shifts at 9pm.” 

The student says she never reported it to the police because she felt guilty: “If I ruined their life or something. And I wasn’t sure if we just lived in the same area”. 

And that’s just the thing—while records of sexual harassment reports aren’t readily available, Manatū Wāhine (Ministry for Women) estimates that 89.9% of sexual assaults from 2019-2024 went unreported to police. 

Furthermore, only 4.2% of sexual assault reports result in charges being laid, and only 1.2% result in convictions. In Aotearoa’s current justice system, reporting sexual harassment and assault is arduous and traumatic, often involves social stigma, and hardly ever rules in favour of the victim. 

Instead, people rely on word of mouth as a safety net—and increasingly, digital communities. One such platform is Instagram account ‘welly_warning’, which collects anonymous reports of alleged sexual harassment and assault, posting photos, names, and even workplaces of alleged offenders. Sure, it’s not a perfect system, but desperation doesn’t allow for perfection. 

The truth is that online dating sites and apps don’t screen for sexual harassment or assault charges—and even less so allegations. When you’re introduced to someone through a mutual friend, coworker, or family member, you have the assurance of a trusted recommendation—a moral reference. 

But when you meet someone online, they can portray themselves as anything they want, with no history attached. They can lie about their height, their job, their hairline—sure. But they can also lie about criminal convictions, charges, and allegations, taking advantage of a clean slate of six to eight curated photos and a witty one-liner.

You might think that you can spot them from a mile away, but you can’t. Just because they read Virginia Woolf, just because they listen to Faye Webster, just because they’re dressed head-to-toe in recycled Carhartt, paint their nails, and are vegetarian for the environment, doesn’t make them safe. Self-declared feminists, hippies, finance-bros, musos, skaters, geeks, DJ’s, climbers, law students, artists, gym-bros—men with allegations can be found in every facet, aesthetic, and stereotype. 

So what can you do? If you’re not ready to press delete on Hinge, Grindr, Tinder, Bumble or Feeld, New Zealand organisation Netsafe recommends being cautious about sharing personal images and sensitive or intimate information if you don’t know someone well. This includes your place of work, what hall you’re in, what time you take the bus every day, who your lecturer is, and where your favourite coffee spot is. 

Additionally, I would recommend actively asking around before you go on an in-person date. Send their profile to your girls’ group chat. Ask your coworkers. Show your flatmates, classmates, and teammates. If you have mutuals on Instagram (you will, because it’s Wellington) who you know well enough, ask them what your date is like. If anyone raises red flags, take them seriously. 

It's sad that we have to take such extensive precautions, but community really is what will keep us safe. Wellington is a small city, and the advantage of that is that everyone knows everyone. If someone has allegations of sexual harassment or assault, sooner or later people will find out, and the information will follow that person—I believe deservedly so. 

Online dating can be exciting. But remember: you have no idea who the person on the other side of that screen truly is.