The Diary of a Single Mum's Dating App Ban !

My search to find a real connection

Photo by Good Faces Agency on Unsplash

When I posted Dating App Hell: A Modern Nightmare If Paloma Faith can’t meet anyone, what chance do I have? last week; it quickly became my most-read post, with 2.5K views and gaining 5, 9 13 14 21 new subscribers, which made my day. Thank-you, lovely readers! I was struck by the sheer number of comments from both women and men who shared the same frustrations as me. I’ve been *Ghosted, *Caspered, *Paperclipped, *Benched, *Breadcrumbed, and Love Bombed ! Now, before anyone suggests it's due to a lack of confidence or that I somehow allowed it to happen, don’t. I’m an incredible woman who has been treated badly, and that is not my fault.

I could always sense that the men I matched with were talking to many women, and I was just one of them. And so it was obvious they weren’t giving me their full attention, half-invested at best, conversations often ended abruptly, without any real effort to continue. I soon realised it was impossible to stand out, but I knew that wasn’t my fault either.

With so many people online, it often feels overwhelming and almost impossible to find a meaningful connection. I often feel like I’m trying to find a needle in a haystack. In fact that would probably be easier.

Dating in today’s world, already complicated, was made even more challenging by the chaos of Covid. The pandemic isolated us, shifted social norms, and dramatically altered how we connect with others. As a result, spontaneous, in-person encounters where you might get chatted up in a café or at a party , like I used to, have become increasingly rare. Instead, we’re left navigating digital spaces, where meaningful interactions can feel harder to come by, and face-to-face connections are few and far between.

However, I received some helpful advice from fellow Substack writers and readers that made me pause for thought. One reader pointed out that dating app developers probably aren’t all that interested in me finding someone, because if I did, I’d stop using their app. Cynical, but let's be honest, probably true. But then there were a few writers and readers who told me they met their partners online. So there’s some hope, but sadly, I’ve lost faith.

Another substack reader/writer encouraged me to delete my dating apps for three weeks (I’ll only write about it for one week unless something amazing happens) and focus on making real-life connections instead. The suggestion? To be open and friendly, wearing a “Come chat me up” T-shirt. Challenge accepted! It’s worth a shot, right? At the very least, I’ll have a laugh and, maybe, just maybe, meet someone who isn’t hiding behind a screen!

Day 1 - Sunday 15/9/24

I woke up and immediately disabled the two dating apps still on my iPhone. I felt a wave of relief wash over me, knowing I couldn’t be tempted to doom-scroll through the endless profiles of men the apps had served up. Right, let’s get started, real, genuine connections, here I come!

At exactly 8am, my Amazon shopping arrives. As I go to open the front door, now fully embracing my 'eyes open' approach, I think, Ooh, maybe he’ll be cute, my first interaction since starting my dating app ban.

He’s an elderly man, pleasant enough, but he leaves me to lug the heavy bags from the doorstep rather than placing them inside for me. I still tipped him, though.

I put a load of washing on and sit down for breakfast, pondering what I can do this week to try and meet real connections in the real world...

The rest of my Sunday was spent, doing chores that could not be ignored. Long bath and resting, no chance to meet anyone today.

Day 2 - Monday 16/9/24

Wake up, I decide to work from home today, I usually go into the office on Mondays, but it’s been a tough weekend, so I decide to give myself the extra hour in bed. I check my phone and remember I can’t have a peak at the men that have presented themselves to me on any dating apps and I have disabled them anyway. Fine, I’ll crack on with work.

A couple of hours later, I start thinking about Bumble again. Oh wait, I can't! With no dating apps to turn to, I begin wondering how on earth I'm supposed to meet anyone. After all, it’s not like I’ve just been sitting around doing nothing to find Mr Right for the past six years. And I’m definitely not going clubbing or raving, been there, done that in the '90s. My 30-year-old niece met her life partner at a rave.

I’m too knackered to go to those singles running clubs that have sprung up all over London, like the ones my nephew goes to. Not that I meet the criteria anyway, apparently, I’m too old!

At 2pm, I head to my local swimming pool with my mate for a lane swim during my lunch break. Maybe there’ll be a nice bloke swimming that I can chat to? Nope. It’s empty except for one older woman wearing a 1930s-style swim cap and a lifeguard in his 20s. And that’s how it stayed for the whole hour. Damn!

Finished work, cooked dinner, then bed.

No Mr Right , better luck tomorrow.

Day 3 - Tuesday 17/09/24

Wake up, get ready,  jump on the tube to King's Cross. Anyone on the tube I can give ‘the eye’ to? Wearing my "Come chat me up" T-shirt. I glance up and down the carriages, smiling at the men. Only one guy looked up at me, and he pulled a weird face. He was younger than me, but I wanted to see if my new friendliness and openness would make a difference. It didn’t. He scowled and looked away.

At work, I’m surrounded by women. As for what happened today, I can’t say much, let’s just say it involved a crowbar and lots of police. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see any of the officers, (missed opportunity) because I was tucked away in a side room when it all went down. Typical. But hey, at least I’m alive!

On the tube home, I once again look up and down the carriages, "come chat me up" T-shirt on, smile on my face. The closest I got to any ‘action’ and not in that way was when the guy next to me fell asleep and accidentally rested his head on my shoulder. I was about to poke him, when he woke up, all moody, and got off at the next stop.

Home, dinner, kid stuff, bed. No Mr Right today.

Day 4 - Wednesday 18/9/24

Wake up, get ready jump on the tube to Kings cross. I look up and down the carriages, much the same as yesterday. I see 4 men, heads buried in their phones. Well, this is no good. As I ponder how I am ever going to meet anyone, I start to have one almighty hot flush (as one does when in their 50’s) I start sweating like a human radiator, from the inside out, every which way possible.

The cardigan that's hiding my middle-aged spread has got to go! I feel like a ticking thermostat about to blow. Good grief, is it always this hot on the tube, or is it just me? Across from me, a woman sits smugly in her winter coat. Seriously? Who wears a winter coat on the tube in this heat? I want to scream, “Take it off, you’re making me hotter!” My battery-operated fan, where are you when I need you? I start fanning my face with my hand, undoing a couple of buttons on my pink blouse. That’s when I notice a cute guy looking up from his phone. Oh, hello. His eyes dart to my newly exposed chest. Well, this just got interesting.

He keeps glancing up, and I smile. For the next two stops, we’re locked in a game of eye ping pong. Ooh, intriguing! I stretch my arms and casually place my hands in my lap. No ring! I telepathically send him the message, “Look, not married!" He telepathically replies: "Nice." And then, of course, he gets off at Finsbury Park. Typical.

On the walk to the office, a decent looking bloke in a crisp white shirt wheeling a suitcase, comes towards me. Where’s he off to? Can I tag along? In my fantasy telepathy world, I send him a cheeky, "Take me with you." Naturally, he replies, "Sure thing." I give him the look and smile, but just as he glances back, a wasp, yep, a WASP decides to make me its target, Of all the people outside King's Cross station, it picks me to buzz around.. I wave my hand in the air like a lunatic trying to bat it away from me, ducking and diving to avoid being stung. White Shirt Guy is long gone. Bye-bye, suitcase man.

Later, it’s choir night. I walk into the bar, buy myself a large Pinot, and sit down with the other THIRTY WOMEN.  One man in the group, and, of course, he’s married. Maybe a single guy will join tonight? Nope, not happening. We start singing Alanis Morissette’s “You Oughta Know," and I think, yeah, I really oughta! Then we belt out Lady Gaga’s “Always Remember Us This Way.” That one’s, my favourite.

Finally, I get home, quick chat with the kids, and collapse. Another thrilling day in the life of Francis Frazzledate.

Day 5 - Thursday 19/9/24

I wake up buzzing at the thought of going into the office today. About six of my workmates are heading to the pub after work, and surely tonight’s the night I make a connection. I’ve hyped myself up and even manifested a large, hairy, tradie-type bloke.. I throw on my best casual dress, pair it with trainers (chic but comfy), straighten my bob, and whip out the red lippy.

Four hours into work, I get ‘the’ phone call. My daughter’s got Covid, and she’s feeling dreadful, so I need to rush home. And just like that, my plans for the night, and my free weekend of swanning around London on the hunt for Mr Right, go straight out the window. Perfect. What’s a gal to do?

Ghosted; When a person cuts off all communication without notice (Urban Dictionary)

Caspered; In reference to Casper the friendly ghost. s/he ghosts you in a nice way. They respond to you sometimes but the point is getting across that they wouldn’t like to see you again. (Urban Dictionary)

Paperclipped; When your crush ignores you, but still occasionally texts you so you don’t forget about him, I thought he’s not interested in me but he text me last night and left me on read again. I don’t know what to do with his mixed signals. (Urban Dictionary)

Benched; When you start dating someone you think is nice and has potential, but you are not crazy about them. You don’t know whether to keep dating them or move on to the next one. This is where benching happens. Instead of going for either of the above, you put your date in your mental maybe folder and bench them, so you date around to see what else is out there. (Urban Dictionary)

Breadcrumbed; When he has no intentions of taking things further, but they like attention, so they flirt here or there, send texts to keep you interested knowing damn well they’re staying single. (Urban Dictionary)

Love Bombed; When a person shows affection to the other, but in an excessive way.(Urban Dictionary)