For some people, there is nothing more cringe than being a woman in your thirties who goes on a load of dates. At a recent singles evening my friend put on, I found myself opposite a bloke who said he would never date a woman who had been to multiple dating events. When I mention to people that since the start of this year I’ve spent a couple of nights a week on dates (I’m 31), some people raise their eyebrows like I might have a screw loose.
Going on lots of dates is already lame. But the perception of it has an added, manic edge if you’re a woman in your thirties; it implies I’m trying to lock down some sperm before my fertility begins its widely claimed freefall.
What you’re supposed to do, I think, is stumble across your partner by chance, as per the unsolicited rallying cry from people in relationships – “it happens when you least expect it!”.
Women deep in monogamy tell me I shouldn’t date so hard. Despite the fact that I have been single except for about six months of my life, they advise I need to be happy in myself. The implication is that you can’t be happy single while also seeking a relationship – that going on lots of dates is an indicator of a deeper insecurity. As a woman, dating could not possibly be fun and validating. Of course, as you get to know these women, they will slowly unravel stories of how they went on tonnes of dates and slept around the city (as they damn should!) before meeting their partner.
I’m sure part of this is to preserve a feeling of romance and ending up with your partner as destiny. It’s not very poetic to say you found your person because you logged on to Hinge every evening. And – sorry – I hear this most from people who aren’t that picky. Given I don’t fancy that many people, a few dates a year just isn’t going to swing it.
But there is something fascinating about the gap between what they admit publicly – and what they actually do. I never hear someone admit in a group setting that they pay for premium subscriptions on dating apps, for example. And yet one on one, people coyly confess to me that they pay £100 every few months for Hinge to boost their profile. The stats show that 25 million people pay for premium app features worldwide.
Why do I care so much that people downplay how much they date? It sends the message that you shouldn’t try so hard. And when I listened to that message in dating while in my twenties, it meant I basically met zero people I liked.
The people I seriously dated consisted of interactions which felt written in the stars. There was a guy I’d fancied at school, and ended up connecting with at my 10-year school reunion. A man I’d locked eyes with on the Victoria line, only to bump into him hours later at Notting Hill Carnival. Of course, when these didn’t work out, I took it as conclusive proof that my person didn’t exist.
This was not aided by the culture of spirituality and manifestation which seems to thrive among single women. I can’t count the number of single women who speak about how meeting a guy should happen naturally, without actively pursuing dating – and place particular emphasis on decentring men.
It’s not that I think manifesting is complete horseshit – when you go into dates thinking that men are fundamentally decent, of course you tend to have better experiences. When I write down the qualities I’m looking for, they seem to reveal themselves more clearly in potential partners. That’s not about energies or vibrations – it’s basic psychology. Whether someone likes me back is effectively up to fate – I can’t orchestrate that.
But manifestation only works if you meet it halfway. You still have to go on the date before hoping he’ll like you back; you can’t manifest a man into your living room when you’re curled up in front of Love is Blind.
I finally stopped believing this twaddle when I realised that with anything else important in my life – finding a job or buying a house – I’d expend effort, and play the numbers game by putting out a load of applications. Why should dating be any different; effort be treated as suspect? Studies repeatedly show that romantic love is one of the greatest predictors of happiness.
Since dating more over the past couple of years, what’s striking is that the amount of people I fancy or want to go on more dates with has increased in perfect, direct proportion to the number of dates I go on. When I went on 15 first dates a year, I’d meet two people I fancied. When I went on 30 first dates, I’d meet four or five. When I dated more, and “worked on” my dating i.e. by doing therapy to understand why I’d been too quick to reject people, I ended up seeing people for a longer and longer time.
Yes there is such a thing as dating too much, so I take breaks from dating regularly. And when I’ve overdone it, I find it draining and struggle to split my attention between multiple people. Sometimes I get a series of rejections in a short period of time, which can be hard to stomach. But still, two or three nights of dates a week still leaves a lot of time for friends, going out, and other hobbies.
The strange thing is that despite all this, I’ve still felt a faint pressure to be coy about my dating life. I know being a woman in your thirties is nothing like what it was in previous generations. But I was raised in the cultural shadow of Una Alconbury and co saying “tick tock” to Bridget Jones because she is 32 and single.
What’s ultimately made me realise this performance is ridiculous? I guess it’s the fact that if I say I go on lots of dates, people always assume that because I’m a woman, I must be the one chasing more. In their minds, the men are cast as non-committal players, even though I tend to be the one turning down future dates.
If I were a man, they would assume I was playing the field and going on lots of dates because I was struggling to find what I wanted. It would be “determined” and “decisive” about what I want – rather than “desperate”.
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