Less than 48 hours ago, I sat at a table in the sunshine outside my favourite wine bar waiting for my date to arrive. 15 minutes passed as I sipped my rosé, watching the world go by. “What’s the grace period for lateness on a date?” I texted my mum. “30 minutes max,” she replied, followed by a string of angry faced emoji. At 26 minutes past I messaged asking his ETA and a few minutes later I called him. He didn’t pick up.
At the 30-minute mark, I got up, blinking back tears as I made for home. I felt humiliated as I paid the bill and traipsed past diners and drinkers enjoying their summer evening. I stepped out of my chosen black dress when I got home, wiped off the makeup I’d excitedly applied earlier, called my mum and finally allowed myself to cry tears of frustration.
What had just happened? I let him know I’d left the bar, adding “that really did not make me feel good.” No reply. No call back. Just a heavy protracted silence.
This wasn’t a first date. This person wasn’t a stranger, either. I met this man on Feeld three months ago. The timing wasn’t exactly ideal for me — I was feeling fragile, both physically and emotionally, after freezing my eggs and recovering from the retrieval procedure. But I also knew I deserved better treatment.
In the beginning, the messages were flowing. We talked about our shared love of gardening, books, food. It was the first time I felt excited about someone since I’d ended a nebulous situationship, which had left me feeling bruised and disillusioned with dating. It was time to knock down the protective walls I’d built around my heart.
The first date was great — wine, good conversation, kissing, mutual confessions of attraction. We made a plan to see each other again. But that’s when things began to change. His messages weren’t as abundant as they’d been in those early stages. I didn’t immediately write him off because I know life can get in the way — people get busy, they get sick, they have to work. Still, it felt pretty rubbish. The disillusioned dater in me knew this wasn’t a good sign: he was almost certainly pulling away. I’d been here before and I knew the direction of travel. Just when I made peace with the fact I’d never hear from him again, he messaged me asking when we’d be getting together. W — and I cannot stress this enough — TF.
Eventually I sent him the following: “I know we talked about going out again, but I’m going to be honest, the signals I’m getting are very hot and cold and it’s hard to not interpret that as disinterest. I’m not sure this is a good fit in terms of communication style — typically I need more consistency in the early stages of something to sustain my interest.” I wished him well and hoped he understood. The following morning he replied amicably and apologised for wasting my time. I archived our chat and moved on.
A week ago, while on holiday in France, I opened WhatsApp to see the dreaded “1” next to “Archived”. Assuming it was just another group chat notification, I idly opened the archive, only to see a message from the aforementioned man. It was a photo of the pub we’d gone to on our first date and the words “walking past the scene of the crime.”
My best friend was sitting beside me at the time and I leaned over and showed him the message. “I’d block him,” he said. I should have listened.
I replied and things started up again. In the time since ending things, I had thought of him. I felt I’d be abandoning myself if I didn’t explore things and give him some grace.
Mashable After Dark
For the next five days, we messaged morning, noon, and night. He wished me good night and when I woke up the next morning and opened my phone, there’d be a message waiting for me. Had he taken on board what I’d said before about consistency?
He seemed to be in the dating mindset this time around. He talked about marriage, children, a future life. Red flag, I wondered? Then again, he’s in his late 30s, so these aren’t conversation topics that are necessarily out of bounds for the stage of life we’re at. In hindsight I feel naive for entertaining the second chance for as long as I did. One minute you’re talking like you’re my future husband, the next, you can’t even show up for our date.
Once back in the UK, we made a plan to meet up for a glass of wine at a different bar (not the “scene of the crime”). He told me he had plans at five but should be wrapped up by eight. He told me he was having a pint in the sun and sent me a photo of his dog basking in the glorious weather.
8 p.m. came and went, as you know. And since then, I’ve heard nothing from him. In the immediate aftermath, I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt — emergencies arise, things go wrong. I didn’t convey the true weight of my disappointment because I wasn’t sure if something serious had happened.
I poured myself a gin and tonic and put Charli xcx’s Brat on full blast. What else can a girl do in the circumstances?
The next day, I woke up after a particularly troubled sleep and had to remind myself of what had transpired. I ran through scenarios in my mind. Did he lose his phone? Did he get drunk and fall asleep? I called my friends and talked through my feelings. Even now, I still can’t wrap my head around it. I will likely have to make peace with never knowing what happened that night and why he treated me that way.
When I say to readers that I’ve been in the trenches of the dating app scene, I really mean it
As a perennially single woman in her mid-30s, the hardest part of this is not allowing myself to give up on dating.
Ironically, I’ve just finished writing a book about the current state of dating culture and why it feels so tough right now. When I say to readers that I’ve been in the trenches of the dating app scene, I really mean it. As someone who’s been writing about dating and relationships for over a decade, who’s witnessed the evolution of online dating, who’s read through the never-ending online discourse surrounding dating, I have had more than my fair share of disappointments, of egregious incidents, of complicated and confusing situationships. This isn’t my first time being stood up either. It’s so draining.
Over the years, I’ve had hiatuses from dating. I’ve deleted apps only to redownload them months later. I’ve wondered if there was something wrong with me, if I’m too soft, too forgiving, too much of a pushover. In real low points, I’ve let my insecurities get the better of me and believed the negative voice in my head telling me if I was thinner, prettier, cooler, this wouldn’t happen to me. A lot of therapy has disabused me of this idea.
Really, getting stood up — while painful — is a blessing. This man has shown me his true character. Getting stood up sucks, but in many ways, I’ve been saved from a far worse fate.
I believe everyone should do what they need to do to make themselves feel emotionally safe when dating. It’s not as simple or straightforward as saying “you have to get yourself back out there.” Because honestly, the last thing I want to do right now is open up a dating app.
Believing in the good of people — even after witnessing people at their worst — takes generosity.
Romantic love isn’t the be-all-and-end-all for me. It’s a nice-to-have, but not an essential item. I have a very happy life, just as it is.
But one thing that’s giving me hope and strength is knowing that I deserve so much better than the way I’ve been treated. It takes strength to be vulnerable, to put yourself out there knowing full well it could end in tears. Holding off until I get what I deserve takes resilience. Believing in the good of people — even after witnessing people at their worst — takes generosity.
Right now, I’m protecting my heart, but I’ll be “back out there” again soon because I refuse to let dating app culture grind me down.
