essay · on what we're for · 5 min
friendship as the third path.
When we started building Soulmate, the most repeated piece of feedback from early testers wasn't about romance. It was: I have a partner. I'm not looking for that. I'm looking for someone I can call on a Tuesday.
The Tuesday-call kind of friendship has become startlingly hard to find as an adult. Not because adults stopped wanting friends — they didn't — but because the contexts in which adult friendships used to form have thinned out. Schools end. Workplaces went hybrid. Neighbourhoods got more transient. The accidental friendship, the one that grew because you saw the same person three times a week without planning to, is harder to come by.
Apps could have stepped into this gap fifteen years ago. They didn't, because friendship isn't a venture-grade outcome. You can't sell premium subscriptions to people who already have a partner. There's no monthly anxiety to monetise. The economics are against it.
We don't care about the economics. We care about the gap.
three intents, one product
When you sign up to Soulmate, we ask the same five-step vibe questionnaire whether you're looking for a friend, a partner, or a community to belong to. The matching engine doesn't know the difference at the embedding layer — it just looks for vibe similarity. Then, when it surfaces a candidate, it weighs the connection intents you both selected.
The result is that a soul who only checked 'friendship' will only ever be surfaced to other souls who also checked 'friendship.' There is no romantic-pressure leak. The Hinge BFF anti-pattern — where you're matched with people who would rather be on Hinge proper — doesn't happen here, because the friendship path is its own first-class output of the same engine.
what a friendship match looks like
The discover screen looks identical regardless of intent. The conversation that opens after a mutual vibe is identical too — the same icebreaker generator, the same chat surface, the same photo-reveal moment.
What changes is the tone of the matches themselves. People who are matched as friends tend to write longer prompt answers, share more practical specifics (which city, what work, what kind of weeknight), and skip the romantic register entirely. The system isn't doing anything magical to make this happen — it's just that when both people opted into the same kind of connection, neither one is performing for the other one's romantic gaze.
the room you didn't know you needed
The third intent — community — is the one that surprises people most. We auto-form rooms around shared values and passions. Compassionate Vegans. Wanderers. Builders. Quiet Souls. Stewards of the Earth.
Most apps treat communities as feature creep — a tab in the corner, half-staffed, full of strangers who joined a Discord by accident. Ours are seeded by the algorithm itself: when enough souls in the system share a centroid of values and interests, a room gets proposed. People who fit it well get a soft notification suggesting they look in. The room exists for the conversations, not the matches; people inside a room can opt in or out of being match-discoverable to other room members.
It turns out a lot of human loneliness is solved by the room more than the date. People want a Sunday-morning thread about the long walk they took. They want to know which six other people in the city read the same essay they did this week. The 1:1 connection is the deepest layer; the room is the wider one. We think both belong in the same app.
why this matters more than it sounds
If you've spent any time watching the loneliness research, you'll know the single strongest predictor of life satisfaction in adulthood is not the presence of a partner. It is the number of close friendships you have outside that partnership. Couples without friends are unhappier than singles with friends, controlling for everything else.
If we built an app that only knew how to produce romantic relationships, we'd be ignoring the variable that actually moves the needle on adult well-being. Friendship is the third path, but we suspect it's the first one most people walk down on Soulmate. That's by design.