Most dating apps still assume one thing: The folks using apps are there to find “The One” — the special, ultimate person to make the need for dating go away. Sure, maybe not right away, but eventually, someone to match with and date, move in with, perhaps marry, buy the white picket fence, and have children. It’s a tidy (and possibly unrealistic arc in 2025?!)

Swipe right, chat, meet, fall in love, exit the app. But what happens when this trajectory doesn’t reflect how some people date, or even how they define love? 

For a growing number of dating app users — particularly young, queer-identifying and neurodivergent communities — the conventional, traditional roadmap of dating and marriage not only feels irrelevant to them, but fundamentally alienating. Why? Well, because many of them are choosing to follow a new-ish way of thinking about relationships. A philosophy that doesn’t coexist with societal expectations.

Enter, relationship anarchy.

What is Relationship Anarchy, Really?

OK, but what is it? Relationship anarchy, also known as RA, is a philosophy that radically rethinks how some folks can love, commit, and connect with others. 

Coined by Swedish activist Andie Nordgren in the early 2000s, RA draws on principles of autonomy, consent, and deep customization. By the principle, every relationship, whether sexual, romantic, platonic or even queer-platonic, is considered unique and negotiated on its own terms. No relationship is greater than another. 

At its core, it’s a deconstruction of societal norms around what types of connection get your time, attention and resources.

If it still doesn’t make sense, take it from folks who actually practice it. 

“RA is a rejection of normative or default relationship structures. Certain types of relationships don’t inherently come first,” one Redditor explains it, “Some poly people do that, some don’t. It can look all kinds of ways. Like raising kids with a friend instead of a partner. Or building your life with people who aren’t sexual partners. Or becoming family with people who you aren’t biologically related to.”

It’s often misunderstood. It’s not just about being non-monogamous. It’s not polyamory lite, either. In fact, many relationship anarchists may not use the word “partner” at all. Some don’t date in the traditional sense. Others reject romantic hierarchies, like prioritizing a spouse over a best friend. There are no templates, only intentional connections. 

According to one blogger who has dedicated her platform to relationship anarchy education, she explains that it is hard to write about in a few succinct sentences.

But in her own words, these are a few things it means to her, “I want relationships based around consent and communication, I believe I can love as many people as I choose, I value each relationship I have independent of the others, sex doesn’t necessarily come into play regarding who my Important People are, I highly value autonomy and direct communication.”

So, what does this mean for those who actively work in dating? How can you possibly appeal to folks in RA? Well, for starters, look at what does and doesn’t resonate with them.

Relationship anarchy resonates with users who bristle at being told what intimacy should look like. That includes not just young progressives, but also neurodivergent folks (who may view social “scripts” as stifling), queer and trans users (whose chosen family often rivals or replaces traditional romantic coupling), and even those simply disillusioned with the swipe-to-spouse pipeline.

The Default Monogamy Problem

As I said earlier, most dating apps are built with a default setting: monogamous, romantic, long-term, and often heteronormative. Even for myself, a bisexual and polyamorous woman in a straight-passing relationship, I sometimes find the leaning to monogamy hard to deal with.

Most dating apps, when setting up user profiles, often ask for “relationship goals” and offer options like “short-term fun” or “long-term partner,” but rarely anything in between or beyond. The assumption is that users want a primary partner. Period.

Many don’t even allow users to list multiple connections or explicitly state that they don’t follow hierarchy. (Although I will give credit where it’s due, for apps like Feeld and 3Fun, which have allowed listing multiple partners for awhile now)

But outside of non-traditional dating apps, monogamy is sort of the default setting.  And, honestly, that is just a cultural hierarchy that positions romantic, sexual, monogamous, and long-term as somehow greater, or more important, than others.

It’s a model that not only makes it hard for relationship anarchists to be visible but also less likely to make open-minded connections.

One user recently described trying to use a mainstream app as a relationship anarchist this way: “It felt like I was playing a game where I didn’t know the rules—and worse, the game was pretending to be for everyone.”

Why Dating Apps Should Take Relationship Anarchy Seriously, Now

So, should dating apps take relationship anarchy seriously? Well, yeah especially if you want to appeal to the younger generation. They are less likely to see marriage as a life goal, more likely to identify as LGBTQ+, and more open to non-traditional relationships. 

In fact, there is more willingness to explore, all around. According to Hinge’s 2025 D.A.T.E. report, 45% of its LGBTQIA+ users have considered dating someone outside the gender or gender expression they’re typically attracted to, and even more so, daters are open to exploring attraction beyond labels.

This likely includes the nuance of relationship structures, too. 

And if the dating platform you’re working on isn’t catering to new (or more niche needs) Of course, smaller platforms like #open and Plura are already following the path to get the attention of RA-friendly users.

But there is no reason why other, more mainstream dating apps can’t also center flexibility, consent, and community among their monogamous users, too.

The truth is, the world is changing, and so should apps. If dating brands want to be seen as ethical, progressive, and user-first, that means moving beyond performative campaigns (ahem, Pride) and building features that welcome and celebrate all users, even those who practice RA.

The Risk of Ignoring This Isn’t Just Irrelevance — It’s Harm

When dating apps ignore or erase certain relationship styles, it doesn’t just inconvenience users. It sends the message: You don’t belong here. I, myself, have got off certain apps because I felt out of place, unseen and even weird.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. As a long-time dating app user, I know that the dating industry has always played a role in shaping how people connect, and will continue to do so. And isn’t the idea to include all in their quest for more, even if that more isn’t what monogamous, straight folks want?

Sure, relationship anarchy may not be for everyone. But neither is the nuclear family. Neither is monogamy. Neither is marriage. I don’t think dating apps need to have all the answers. But taking the steps to understand and ask better questions can certainly help folks get to where they want to be. 

What if the future of dating isn’t about finding “The One”? What if it’s about designing for the many ways people choose each other, again and again, on their own terms?

That, to me, seems pretty magical.