Tinder. Love it or hate it, the hookup app has become a large part of our society, particularly among college-aged students. We’re young, we’re free, and we’re at our sexual peak. There’s no better opportunity to experiment than right now.

Shortly after I graduated high school, I decided it was time for me to start taking advantage of my newfound freedom by experimenting sexually. My upbringing was very religious and such behavior had always been discouraged. Sex was a sacred act, only to be shared between a married man and woman. I never bought into it. To me, it was just a bunch of outdated dogma, and by early high school, I’d come to the quiet realization that I didn’t intend to wait until marriage.

Because of my relaxed views on sex, I never experienced an overwhelming amount of guilt and shame. The “intense feelings of regret” I’d been warned of never came to me. Besides the hurtful reactions of some of those around me, there didn’t seem to be too many negative consequences to my casual escapades, so I continued them once I got to college. After all, I wasn’t surrounded by dogma anymore; rather, I was in the company of those who behaved similarly to me.

The still-religious piece of me kept waiting for that moment of grief, that “Oh, Lord, I have been unfaithful to your Holy Word” revelation, but it never came. Instead what came was loneliness. It started as a sheer mist, then it was a light trickle, and finally, it was a downpour. I was so incredibly empty. For as long as I could remember, I’d been a deep thinker in search of something permanent and meaningful — a connection that would an envelop my whole heart. Tinder couldn’t fulfill that desire. I always found myself wishing that those Tinder guys would stay a little bit longer and just talk to me about something that mattered — but they never did, because they weren’t there for emotional meaning.

I didn’t delete the app or stop having casual sex because I’d started equating sex with love, sex with desirability. I secretly hoped each time that I’d be swept off my feet and carried somewhere I could feel full of life and love. It never happened. Again and again, I sought out something I could never find on a hookup app--or even through casual sex in general--and found myself disappointed. One night, all alone, I stared at the ceiling and told myself, “This is all there is for you. This is all you deserve.”

I deleted Tinder the next morning because I was tired of feeling like I wasn’t worth sticking around for. I was tired of looking for what I wanted in the worst places. Essentially, I realized that my temperament and core desires didn’t align with the “hit it and quit it” culture, and it would only cause me more emptiness if I kept dabbling in it. Deep down, I want to believe that I deserve the deep connection I’ve always wanted.

By no means do I consider this a religious revelation. I still think the sex dogma is ridiculous, and I don’t plan to wait until marriage (especially considering most marriages don’t last these days anyway). This also isn’t to say that Tinder and casual sex are evil and that the people who enjoy it are in the wrong. Sex is great, and some people are capable of not attaching too much meaning and emotion to it. More power to them for enjoying their sexuality. I just don’t happen to be one of those people. I’m deciding to wait until I meet someone who will value me more than just physically, because casual sex, for me, has only become casual heartbreak.

And I — all of us — deserve to feel happy.