Ladies.
We need to discuss the fish.
At this point, I have accepted that if I remain on dating apps long enough, I may eventually qualify for a freshwater fishing license. I have now seen more bass, crappie, trout, and bluegill than the average employee at Bass Pro Shops.
I joined another dating app hoping to meet a nice emotionally available man somewhere within a reasonable driving distance of Georgia.
Instead, I am wading through an aquatic documentary narrated by middle-aged men in reflective sunglasses.
And before anyone gets defensive:
I grew up around country boys. I know men fish. I’m not anti-fishing. I’m not even anti-photo-with-a-fish.
I am, however, confused by the ratio.
Sir.
If your fish occupies 83% of the selfie while your own face peeks out from behind it like a confused witness, I no longer know who I’m supposed to be dating.
You?
Or Trevor the Trout?
Because currently Trevor has more personality.
One man’s fish was so close to the camera that I instinctively leaned backward while looking at my phone. Another held his catch with the reverence of a newborn baby while staring into the lens like he’d just won custody.
And the sunglasses.
Always the sunglasses. 😎
Apparently, there’s a national shortage of profile pictures featuring:
- eye contact 👀
- emotional warmth 🤗
- or shirts. 👕
Meanwhile, I’m over here trying to determine:
- Does he communicate well?
- Does he have emotional intelligence?
- Can he discuss feelings without requiring medical intervention?
- Would he survive a conversation longer than “Fish bite good today”?
- Is he a good catch or is he just full of crappie?
Instead, I’m getting:
“countryboy565513483”
holding a walleye like it personally pays his mortgage.
And look, I understand hobbies are important. Truly. If you enjoy fishing, great. Go forth with worms and dreams.
But perhaps — just perhaps — your dating profile should include at least one photo where the woman can identify you without needing assistance from the Department of Fish & Wildlife. You’re not luring in anyone. We’re not falling for your line.
At this point, I’m beginning to suspect dating apps are a form of catch and release for divorced men with pontoon boats all named Jenny.
I swear they travel in schools.
You block one Fish Man and three more appear holding bass at slightly different angles.
One profile after another:
- fish 🐟
- fish 🐟
- fish 🐟
- suspicious pilot 🥷🏻👨🏻✈️
- fish 🐟
- shirtless man named DaveAllNight69 😳
- fish again 🐟
Let’s be reel for a moment. If I wanted pictures of Aqua Man, I’d sign up for jasonmomoa.com. 🧜🏻♂️😏
And yet, somewhere buried beneath the seaweed and mirrored Oakleys, there probably is a genuinely kind man who just likes to fish on weekends and has no idea the rest of his gender has turned “holding aquatic life” into a mating ritual. A guy who will spare the rod and spoil the woman.
To that man:
I see you.
Please step forward without the trout.
Until then, I’ll just keep swimming.
Carpe diem.
Sincerely,
A woman developing Fish Ick one bass selfie at a time. 🐟
©️2026 Heather Nicole Kight. All rights reserved. Including the right to look at profiles without feeling like I’m at a Friday night fish fry.
Menopause & Malarkey 