New Dating App Alternatives To Tinder In Australia

Love is still out here fighting for its life in 2025,  and Australians are tired of swiping till their thumbs cramp. Tinder might still be loud, but folks are flocking to alternatives with better filters, real conversations, and less thirst-trapping. Let’s talk about the ones making real noise.

Boo is pulling in people who are tired of surface-level matches. Its algorithm uses personality science to find better pairings. Think Myers-Briggs. Think Enneagram. No shirtless mirror selfies required. In regional Queensland and parts of Western Australia, Boo hit 310,000 active users in early 2025. It’s not exploding everywhere yet, but users who are on it say the chats feel deeper. That’s because nearly 75 percent of users report better conversations than on swipe-heavy platforms.

Coffee Meets Bagel is gaining steam with people who don’t want to waste time. You get one curated match per day. That’s it. No rabbit hole. Older users—from age 30 and up—make up a big chunk of new sign-ups in Australia. It works well with people who prefer real conversations over fire emoji replies.

A lot of people are tired of apps that assume everyone wants the same kind of romance. Some want something serious, some don’t. That’s why there are so many different apps now. Boo appeals to those who care about personality over photos. Feeld, on the other hand, is built for people open to non-traditional setups.

Even more specific options are out there. Apps like Her focus on queer women, while Secret Benefits and Raya lean into different types of connections, each coming with their own rules, vibes, and communities. Dating now moves how people want it to—not how apps tell them to.

Feeld is built for people who are tired of pretending to be vanilla. It supports poly, kink, and queer relationship types. There’s a feature that lets couples or trios link profiles. In major cities like Sydney and Melbourne, queer poly arrangements are up 55 percent since last year.

RSVP leans into the countryside. It uses rural lifestyle traits to pair people based on things like bushfire prep and agriculture. Rural users—about 38 percent—make up a strong share of its active base.

The Australia Dating app tries to reduce the scams. It scans profile photos using AI to weed out catfishers. And unlike other apps, it’s designed to support people often left out, like plus-size users. Scam reports dropped 82 percent in the last year.

Her is made for queer women, and it’s not new—but it’s growing fast. By the end of 2024, Her’s non-binary user count in Australia went up 190 percent. That’s largely due to its event discovery tool that let users find LGBTQIA+ events, including underground dance parties.

Hinge doesn’t pretend photos are enough. It uses prompt-based profiles that get your brain working. Researchers at UNSW say Hinge profiles trigger 33 percent more dopamine than pic-only apps. And it’s not just a brain thing. First date success rates are up 14 percent among Hinge users.

Raya stays picky. It’s invite-only. But after an Australian chef posted about dating a Hollywood actor, the local waitlist shot up to 89,000 people. This app attracts entertainers and artists. Most matches are international because of that.

eHarmony is pulling in more divorcees now. Their long quiz mimics what clients might do in premarital counseling. About 44 percent of new users fall between ages 45 and 60.

The movie Five Blind Dates made film-themed matches blow up overnight. In Cairns, there was a 740 percent jump in people going on OkCupid to find matches who liked Aussie films.

Bumble tried something called “Lucky Connect,” which used astrological signs to match people. That was cute for a minute, but almost two-thirds of users turned it off. Still, it worked for 19 percent of matches in Melbourne.

Plenty of Fish is leaning into a new trend called “Smutten.” It’s playful and flirty but not explicit. Among 25 to 34-year-olds in Sydney and Melbourne, 41 percent of engagement now looks like this. So flirting without cringe is finally possible.

People aren’t spending hours scrolling on mainstream apps anymore. Market research shows that folks aged 18 to 24 in Australia now spend more than three times as long on niche apps versus Tinder. That’s roughly 37 minutes a day looking for shared interests like indie music, pets, or even shared environmental goals.

RMIT found that Boo users take an average of 7 days to set up an offline meetup. For Tinder? You’re waiting around 21 days. That difference matters when people are clear about what they want and the apps aren’t working against them.

Tinder’s not going away tomorrow, but its grip is slipping. With AI-driven safety, less body-shaming, and more ways to show personality, new platforms give people real chances to connect. Not perform. The faces are still cute, but now, the bios actually matter.