Lessons I learned from 28 days of online dating.

THERE’S A LOVE STORY THAT WE ALL HAVE AGREED TO TELL EACH OTHER. THE “ONE” IS OUT THERE. Except here’s the catch: if you’re like most Americans, you’ll have to go through a lot of dating and maybe even dozens of dates (not to mention marriages) to find them. According to the nonprofit Kinsey Institute, men have an average of 6.6 partners before they get married and women about 4.3. In other words, it’s work.

I took this to the extreme and went on a 28-date stint. A new person, nearly every day, through a free online dating service called OKCupid for a month. OKC matches people through geography, age, demographic preferences and a percentage-based personality-compatibility match. Romantic as hell.

Turning to online matchmaking wasn’t my first choice. But as I began living my adult life with my college years behind me, the prospect of a rom-com style scenario – maybe I’d bump into the love of my life in taxi or in the rare books section of the library – seemed slim. But on apps like Tinder, Grindr and Bumble, or websites like Match.com and OKC, the whole interaction is distilled around people looking for love. If your goal is to find Mr./Mrs. Right, it’s now convenient AF.

But date after date, patterns and behaviors started emerging. Sometimes, there would be a hopeful pattern: No, you’re not only attracted to jerks. A lot of times, they were ugly things: how much value you place on appearances.

Let’s start there, with lesson number one: Looks matter and you’re shallower than you think.That’s not necessarily true for a few pure-hearted individuals, but I am not one of those and chances are you aren’t either. In 28 dates I found it insane that I’d laugh at my date’s joke and then still couldn’t help but look closely at their teeth to realize they had braces. I winced, visibly, I think.

On some level, OKC is open about this. It includes the question: “Do you prefer to date someone of your own race?” There are a dismal range of answers from “Yes, sorry only white girls,” to “Asians are hot.” Creepy? Racist? I’m not sure.

Speaking of personality: Trust the algorithm, not your instincts. And in the case of OKCupid, the more questions you and your potential date answer the more accurate the compatibility reading will be. I set a threshold for myself. I’d only meet with someone who was 85-percent to 100-percent compatible with me who has answered at least 100 questions. And it is scary accurate.

I FOUND THAT THE HIGHER THE PERCENTAGE MATCH WAS, THE LONGER I COULD HOLD A CONVERSATION AND MAINTAIN INTEREST. (It’s a particularly good resource for people whose friends say that they have terrible taste in partners.) And unlike meeting someone in a bar, the red flags are marked for you. No waiting six months finding out they may have a secret family or collect Beanie Babies.

The last lesson may seem contradictory as I sing the high praises of technology: The profile is not the person. Everyone on OKC said they “liked” or “loved” hiking. Most people I went on a date with couldn’t name one hike they went regularly. I once dated someone whose idea of a hike was toking with high school kids behind Via Paraiso. Not only was I horrified, but it taught me that reading between the lines is something you have to do whether the date was set up in-person or online.

Everyone wants to make a good impression online and there are code words that people use to describe themselves (chill, laidback, easygoing, passionate) and a group of hobbies that is seemingly copied and pasted onto everyone’s profile (grabbing beers, seeing shows, traveling).

Who knows? Maybe they really do all those things in real-life. But the best way to figure if they are who they present online: date them. Grab an unromantic coffee or a friendly beer and see what happens. See if they’re really as confident as they present or if their insecurities show. And of course, do this to yourself too. Notice how you feel and act on this weird adventure. In other words, decide if you really are that “chill” or if you actually like hiking. Then edit and rewrite your profile as you go. You never really know yourself until several strangers tell you, “You’re [nothing] [exactly] like your profile.”