Chapter 2: Waiting for My Rom-Com Moment (That Never Came)

It’s funny to think about now, but when dating apps first came out, I swore I’d never need them.

Something would have to go horribly wrong for me to resort to swiping for love, like a post-apocalyptic world where dating in person was illegal, or all attractive men mysteriously vanished overnight.

I was convinced I’d meet someone the old-fashioned way, like When Harry Met Sally levels of fate, complete with witty banter and an inevitable happy ending:

💃 Dancing in a nightclub, like a scene from Sex and the City.

☕️ Someone spilling coffee on me, furious at first, only to realize they were the love of my life (cue Notting Hill energy).

✈️ Magically getting sat next to them on a plane (thank you, rom-coms, for the false hope).

Spoiler: None of that happened.

(To be fair, I did meet a few people in clubs and on planes—but clearly, not the one.)

Real-life dating wasn't quite what Disney made it out to be.

Converting a nightclub kiss into a sober date felt like trying to land a gold medal in synchronized texting, technically possible but rarely successful.

Plenty of guys asked for my number… and then never called. It was like my digits entered the Bermuda Triangle of text conversations, gone without a trace, never to be seen again.

For a while, I was convinced I’d just mis-memorized my own phone number.

Instead, my twenties became a series of near-misses and almosts.

💔 The colleague who was perfect… until he mentioned his girlfriend. Three months into our ‘innocent’ after-work drinks.

💔 The wedding where I almost faked a boyfriend just to avoid the ‘I can’t believe you’re still single!’ speeches. (Weddings should be a celebration of love, but if you're single, they’re just a long-haul interrogation disguised as a party.)

💔 That one speed-dating night in Chelsea where I wanted to leave immediately, but politely stayed for 15 minutes before exiting stage left like a true rom-com protagonist.

“Just put yourself out there!” they said.

But where exactly was there?

How was I supposed to casually bump into the love of my life when:

❌ Everyone was already coupled up.

❌ Anyone remotely interesting was glued to their phone.

❌ The rest were in a rush to get somewhere else.

Unless I started living my life like I was in a 90s sitcom, hoping to ‘accidentally’ drop something in front of a handsome stranger, or dramatically spill my groceries in Whole Foods waiting for fate to intervene, I had no clue where there actually was.

And so, after one too many failed almost-romances…I caved.

I downloaded the apps.

Like every other millennial in denial, I told myself I was doing it ironically. Just for fun. Keeping my options open. (Black Mirror episode pending.)

I didn’t really need them to meet someone.

…Or so I thought.

Three weeks later, I had a full-blown strategy, optimised opening lines, and a spreadsheet tracking my matches. Little did I know, I was about to enter the wildest, most exhausting, and occasionally hilarious dating marathon of my life.

🚦 Next stop: Mile 1  The Serial Situationship Sprinter.