Waking up on January 1st, the recurring thought takes hold of my mind – how the hell did I get here? Not in the sense of waking up in my childhood bedroom at my parents' house, though those stories are inevitably intertwined. No, as I turn 45 this year, my life seems light-years away from what I once imagined, and I'm left grappling with the question of how it all happened.
As a young woman, I had this vision – married by 30, two kids, a booming career. It's a shared idea, right? Yet, reality took a different path. Being a C or D student with dreams of acting, my career advisor squashed those dreams at 15, telling me to forget about acting, and opt for Leisure and Tourism (I did live in the Lake District!). In hindsight, I wish I'd told her where to go.
Fast forward, and here I am, far from the picturesque home with a loving husband and adoring children. Instead, I've spent most of my 44 years single, chose to have solo IVF resulting in a two-and-a-half-year-old, and now I’ve decided to save the world by starting a dating app – apparently, the worst industry to build a business in nowadays. I also don’t own my own home (I did, but sold it and invested it into Reddi), so maybe from the outside, I maybe not exactly a ‘catch’.
To be fair, prior to Reddi, I have spent most of my work life working in mental health which has been incredibly fulfilling, blessing me with serotonin and oxytocin almost daily. But being low maintenance and a secure attachment type (the holy grail, they say) hasn't made finding a partner any easier. I, like most people over recent years, struggled with dating fatigue, which led me to solo IVF three years ago. Reflecting on the past three years of motherhood, it's evident that the path to solo parenting isn't for the faint-hearted. It's a road less travelled, often devoid of companionship. As a solo IVF mum, there's a tiny human relying on me for everything – from morning cuddles to midnight feedings. Those early days were a whirlwind of baby giggles and sleepless nights and finding time for myself felt like a distant dream, especially with my family miles away.
Dating, with all its excitement, just seems like a distant concept. The reality? Finding time and energy for dates is often a logistical nightmare. Babysitters are rare, and spontaneous outings are out of the question on most occasions. Moving to St Albans before welcoming Milo didn't exactly open up a world of dating options either – it's more of a 'family' place. Coupled with being a ‘founder’ life isn’t exactly that conducive of establishing and maintaining a relationship you could say.
"Why not date someone from your app?" you might ask. Ethically, dating a customer is a no-go. Although, we've just launched intimate in real life dating roundtables, so maybe I'll meet someone a bit more organically. Ironically, I have also become a Matchmaker – sometimes I laugh with friends – maybe it would have been easier to use an agency rather than start my own!
In four years, I've been on exactly two dates. One with Milo in tow, where despite the guy being super nice, there was zero connection. The second had the guy planning to be Milo's dad before we finished the date – troubling, to say the least. The logistics of dating as a solo mum are enough to deter even the most persistent suitors. Plus, my walls of steel aren't exactly inviting.
These walls aren't built from insecurity; quite the opposite. Being single for so long, I've forgotten how to date, love, or be loved. One of my greatest fears is whether people are willing to date someone with a young child – will they understanding the demands on my time and accept that my priorities are divided between my child, my start-up and them.
Independence has most probably become an instinctive survival skill, cultivated in the solitude of parenthood and singledom. Yet, this very independence which I in fact enjoy hampers my motivation to put myself out there, to engage in the delicate dance of getting to know someone new. My routine has become a refuge, shielding me from the vulnerability that often comes with opening your heart. The nagging worry however persists sometimes – is this it? Are my days of romance and companionship behind me? It's a thought I'd rather ignore – my life isn’t dreadful afterall. Although, the intrusive fear of missed opportunities and the longing for connection create a poignant blend of emotions – mostly, it's just occasional sadness, and loneliness. I don’t think I’m alone in these thoughts, I feel that many of us are finding it hard to find connection.
Can I find someone who sees beyond the complexities of my life? Can I stop holding myself back?
Standing at this crossroads, I grapple with the uncertainty of the future. The dating landscape may be challenging, but I’m determined to change that, and with that come the promise of unexpected encounters and the potential for finding someone, for something deep and meaningful.
Related reading: 11 Best London Date Ideas for Summer and The Unique Dating Preferences of the Ultra-Wealthy: Insights from Recent Studies.