Eighteen months ago  I broke up with my long-term boyfriend; we had been going out for seven years and things just started to go downhill. Single life was going to be amazing  – I was in the second year of university and there were some pretty attractive guys on campus. And for the first eight months, it was great: I was having lots of fun with lots of people and single life was treating me well.

By Christmas of the third year, the cliche of, “I’m too busy to start a relationship”, was completely true – the work was piling up, I was on the committee for a dance society and acting like the free-wheeling single girl wasn’t so easy. On top of this, all my housemates seemed to be in relationships and I was starting to feel a bit fed up with single life.

It was around this time that I decided to give the new dating app, Tinder a try. The bottom line is: I loved it. Every spare minute I opened up the app and began swiping – I was beginning to develop RSI! Friends thought it was “brutal”, but I loved the honesty – either you fancy someone or you don’t. It felt similar to being in a bar – if someone makes flirty eye contact you can choose to return the flirty look or avert your gaze. And having the option of selecting your better photos and portraying snippets of information about yourself seemed an effective means of identifying chemistry (or lack thereof). As much as I enjoyed the app, I didn’t actually meet anyone when I was at university, it was only when I went back home for the holidays that I met a few guys for a drink (or three).

One guy seemed nice initially but after a second date, I realised I wasn’t interested. Another guy was charming over Tinder messenger (and subsequent texts); we seemed to get along well and meeting up for a drink seemed promising – or so I thought. On the way home I called a friend and was beaming to her about how great the date was and how lovely I thought he was – until he didn’t text. By day three, I threw in the towel and sent him a casual text. I received absolutely nothing in return. Bugger.

I also signed up for the free dating site/app “Plenty of Fish” (POF) when I was at university, on the recommendation of a friend. I found POF to be full of odd blokes, ranging from 18- to 45-year-olds. I received messages from both (neither being my ideal market), at least with Tinder you can set the age parameters of potential dates.

Since coming home for summer at the end of my final year, my patience is wearing thin with POF and many guys on Tinder just don’t strike up a conversation or respond.

So I’ve now joined Match.com. I signed up yesterday (for free) to see how it works, but I couldn’t see any of the messages I had received – a privilege for members – so, today, I chose to subscribe for one month to see what (if anything) happens.

I shall let you know…

Photo by Luke Southern on Unsplash.