As day 4000 of January ends, a day of crappy grey weather and unrelenting rain, with scarcely a dash of sun, it’s inevitable that one would reflect on how shitty the world can feel sometimes. That cocktail of bile is only enhanced by the fact it’s a Sunday. Sunday evenings are the actual worst. Unquestionably awful, it’s been scientifically proven that nothing good happens on a Sunday evening. Sunday evenings are a void where all hope goes to die, soundtracked by a never-ending playlist that alternates between the theme tunes of Antiques Roadshow and Last Of The Summer Wine and Song of Praise. Just those three. On a loop. For all eternity. That’s what a Sunday in January feels like.

And so, I return to this blog because I feel totally pants and I need to vent and to not feel alone. Maybe in the process this will help you feel less alone too. Particularly if you’re physically on your own this evening. Doubly particularly if you are also single. Triple particularly if you’ve had a day like me where it feels like every step you have take to rectify the afforementioned singledom feels beyond futile.

Let’s start small. I downloaded Bumble again on Friday. I gave up on Bumble last year because of this ad campaign. I was outraged by the ad and swore under no certain terms would I ever return.

Turns out, it only took a bleak AF January to get me back on there and abandon my moral high ground.

It felt more promising than Hinge (‘the dating app designed to be deleted’ – in despair) and there was a mild thrill at a couple of intriguing matches. I sent my opening message to three men and…. received no reply. Whilst there’s an element of ‘it’s annoying that they ‘liked’ me and we matched, but they don’t want to message’ I don’t leave the blame totally on them. Bumble is infuriating because of it’s time-out feature. Once you send your opening message, the other person needs to reply in 24 hours otherwise the match expires and disappears.

In a time where we live on our phones, replying within 24 hours logically seems doable. In reality, that isn’t all that long is it? Imagine you match at 4.30pm on a Friday, naming no names (DAN!), with this really wonderful, kind, warm, generous, empathetic, tall, curvy, hilarious, witty, curvy redhead (oh, you think that describes me? Well, aren’t you nice, you ol’ flirt you!) So much can happen between then and 4.30pm on a Saturday that maybe you don’t have the chance to message. Maybe you have your notifications off because you’re a Selfhelp King who wants to protect his mental health and, in the process, inadvertently miss out on the love of your life. Dan. Maybe you’re drafting the perfect reply to the literary genius you’ve been sent, the best opening message you’ve ever had, you get distracted & life gets in the way. Bam, it’s 4.31pm and this wonder of a woman is lost to you forever.

Again, not blaming any Dan the Man here, I think this countdown feature epitomises everything that is wrong with dating apps. In theory, it’s encouraging dating with intent, of ‘you liked this person so message immediately to lock it in’. In reality, it’s another commodification of dating, of retaining your being plugged into the machine and as active as possible to secure matches. How are you meant to get excited about the profiles you see as there’s this massive hurdle in the way? You’re somehow meant to find the balance between getting mildly invested and excited in a profile with knowing that even if you do get a like which results in a match, there’s a limited window for it to be secured. It’s like trying to open a door, peaking your head through put keeping your heart outside – just in case.

Which sums up the other thing that I’m sad about. It’s been a couple of week since this date with Mr Breeze and it’s not going to work out. T text this evening to say he’s taking a break from dating as he’s realised he’s still not over his ex, but he did say he enjoyed spending time with me so he’d be keen for us to go for drinks as friends. Whilst I appreciate this happening now rather than more dates down the line, it doesn’t stop it being frustrating or disappointing. For one thing, it would have been good if he realised this before rather than after our date…

Also, whilst there’s an element of compliment that he enjoyed my company platonically, that’s also not the reason that we met on a dating app and went on a date. I went on the date for the same reason I’m on the apps, I’m looking for my life partner. Someone who enjoys my company and also wants to [insert innuendo voice and eyebrow raise] *enjoy my company* (sorry Mum!)

I know that by tomorrow these things will sting less, but right now, it’s the 34th shitty January of the year and I just want to be held and known and seen and loved. It all feels like another life lesson when I’ve been given enough of those to warrant PHD status. There’s too much plot to be stuffed into the story of my life, when really I want to be stuffed another way (I SAID I’M SORRY!)

On the back of last year’s mixed bag of a romantic life, I’m feeling a bit exasperated by it all. Why does love appear a game others win so so easily, whilst I keep training and don’t get the chance to leave the bench? Why does love fall into people’s laps, whilst I have trash fall into mine? Why does love cross others’ paths, but cross to the other side of the road for me? How can I find the will to keep going and keep trying and being open to the universe when I get handed shitty dates or people who aren’t ready to date or have matches that time out before they even have a chance to start?

I know my experiences here aren’t exclusive to me. Dating is hard. Dating in 2025 is like playing in extreme mode with a minimal survival rate. I also know that all of this is better than being with the wrong person. But please, great scriptwriter in the sky, can we add in some lightness and rom to balance it all out please?

I really don’t think I’m asking for the impossible, just a little requited romance to zhuzh things up.

That would be nice.

Please and thank you.