Chapter 33: Alice in Tinderland
Updated: May 11
I've always said that "Alice in Wonderland" is not a children's book, it's a survival guide. This story has been with me since childhood! I've always been fascinated by the eccentric characters, the subtle play between reality and hallucination, and especially the feeling that Alice is just trying to figure out where the hell everyone is rushing to.
Today, I understand that searching for love is exactly that: a free fall down a tunnel, hoping that at the end, the Queen of Hearts isn't just waiting for me, screaming "cut off her head" (or at least "like me").
Here are some insights I took from Alice, loosely interpreted by someone who has seen too many white rabbits with fake luxury watches:
“Where should I go from here?” asked Alice. “That depends largely on where you want to go,” said the Cat.
In this search, the "where" is always a mystery. He wants "something fluid," I want "someone who knows what stability in a relationship is," and the algorithm wants me to pay for gold. If you don't know where you want to go, you'll probably end up on a date in Florentine with a guy who insists on explaining to you why Bitcoin is the future.
"You looked so nice in the mirror, I couldn't resist."
The most dangerous sentence ever uttered. In the "mirror" of the profile, everyone looks like a combination of Brad Pitt and a Greek philosopher. The problem begins when the mirror breaks in reality, and you discover that the photo from 2018 was his professional peak, and since then he has mainly grown a medieval beard and a hobby of collecting beer coasters.
"Always tell the truth," said the Duchess, "but don't tell it too often."
The official motto of anyone who writes in their bio is “Loves to travel and cook.” The truth is that they love to travel from the couch to the fridge and pressure cook an omelet, but in Tinderland, truth is just a recommendation. If we told the truth too often, we’d probably be left with only a Cheshire Cat as a companion.
"Who are you?" asked the caterpillar. "I... I hardly know, sir, at the moment... At least I know who I was when I woke up this morning, but I think I've changed quite a few times since then."
Yael in the morning is a careerist and sane woman. Yael at eight in the evening, after five minutes of scrolling, is already a character in a Greek tragedy wondering if she's lost it for good. When you're looking for love, you change form so many times. Sometimes you're the "cool one," sometimes the "intellectual one," and sometimes you're just the one who wants to order a pizza and forget that this date ever happened.
"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked. "Oh, you have no choice," said the Cat, "we are all mad here. I am mad. You are mad."
The most accurate version of the "situation." If you're on the app, you're already part of the madness. Don't try to make sense of why he texted at 3am and then disappeared for two weeks. He's crazy, you're crazy for waiting for him, and we're all drinking tea at the Mad Hatter's party waiting for time to stand still.
"Here, you see, you have to run as fast as you can just to stay in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you have to run at least twice as fast!"
In life, and especially in the search for love, there is a feeling of perpetually running on a stuck treadmill. You invest, develop, learn about yourself, take care of yourself, and still feel like you are standing at that lonely spot in the square. Maybe the "other place" is not a geographical destination or marital status, but the ability to stop running and realize that "here" is also a worthy place to be. But go explain that to a heart that insists on increasing speed.
"There's no point in trying," said Alice, "you can't believe impossible things." "I dare say you haven't practiced it much," said the Queen. "When I was your age, I practiced it half an hour every day. Sometimes I believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."
Love in the modern era is the most impossible thing there is. Believing that from the sea of profiles, white lies, and fear of commitment, a person will suddenly emerge who will really see you requires daily practice. So I practice. Between my morning coffee and taking a sunset photo, I believe in six impossible things:
That a man who is truly compatible with you will write a first message that isn't "Hi," "Are you awake?" or an eggplant emoji.🍆
That a first date won't feel like a high-tech job interview with hidden personality tests.
Someone should read my "bio" before asking "So what do you do for a living?"
That a relationship can begin without games of "who answers last on WhatsApp" and tactics of the Mossad.
There's a man in Tel Aviv who doesn't get a rash just from thinking about the word "relationship."
And that in the end, reality will surpass all imagination.
"Everything is a lesson, if you only know how to find it"
And there's one quote, the highlight of this whole journey, that I have no way of interpreting. It's just there, echoing in the empty space between message and "Seen," and I leave it to you, to your imagination, and to the white nights in front of the shining screen: "Everything is a lesson, if you only know how to find it"
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