OVER on TikTok, things are looking grim for young women.
Some have taken to posting videos of themselves sobbing about the state of dating apps as they complain about terrible romantic experiences.
But for me, at the grand old age of 43, things are looking surprisingly optimistic.
I’ve discovered a secret — that the problem with dating wasn’t me, or evil dating apps, but that your twenties and thirties are the hardest time to find love.
Take it from me, dating in your forties is the best time to do it.
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I hadn’t planned to be still single.
In my thirties I fell in love with a man, who I had my most serious relationship with. We got engaged, planned to marry and tried to start a family.
That all fell apart during Covid. And as I found myself facing 40 alone, I saw a premonition of myself at 65 with 70 cats — and began to panic. But slinking back to dating in my forties, I’ve been surprised by how much I’m enjoying it.
I’ve found it freeing. The pressure I felt to meet The One — which made dating in my thirties fraught with panic as friends’ wedding invitations piled up and I wondered if a man would ever commit — has evaporated.
Now, I’m not on the lookout for a husband and know I don’t want children, so I am not trying to find someone to have my babies with.
That pressure to find “husband material” or a “good dad” has disappeared. Instead, I’m having fun dating bikers and flaky artists.
I’ve also noticed a lot of my peer group are breaking up and getting divorced so I no longer feel “behind” — I feel pleased I’ve had all this freedom and none of the drudgery of being a housewife.
When I used dating apps in my twenties, I got repeatedly burnt — going on dates with men whose idea of romance was taking me to a park with a six-pack of beer or telling me it was love all the way to bed, only to ghost me afterwards.
Now, I trust my instincts.
Years of learning to read people has made me more confident about filtering out bad matches.
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Like the man who declared his love for misogynist pin-up and social media star Andrew Tate. Or the one sharing Covid conspiracies. Now, in my forties, I feel more confident about how I look.
I might be the oldest and fattest I’ve ever been but, finally, I’m comfortable in my body.
In my twenties, I berated myself for not looking like Kate Moss. I starved myself, tried every crash diet, detox or diet pill going and went on dates while starving and self-conscious.
Now, I am kinder to myself about my curvy figure.
I ignored red flags
I tell myself that what I lack in wrinkle-free skin I can make up for in conversation, and that I’ve earnt my crow’s feet from laughing.
Now, I have found my voice and I’m not nervous about asserting boundaries, telling dates when I’m uncomfortable or asking for what I want
I’ve got a staple of go-to dresses I know I look good in and I’m also confident in what else I can offer.
In my forties, I’ve achieved much more than I had in my twenties — I’ve taken time to build strong friendships and have a beautiful home, a passion for life and an interesting career.
Now that I can bring all that to the table, I worry less about my date judging me if I order a burger.
In my twenties I felt vulnerable going on dates — I worried about rejection, whether dates would find me attractive, or what I’d do if I didn’t fancy them.
I was so self-conscious, I ignored men waving red flags and found myself in all sorts of compromising positions.
Now, I have found my voice and I’m not nervous about asserting boundaries, telling dates when I’m uncomfortable or asking for what I want — in and out of bed.
If a date does something I don’t like, I won’t hesitate to speak up. I’m not worried about politely telling a date I don’t think there’s chemistry, which I kindly did in a text the other day. I’ve learnt life is too short to waste on bad men.
Besides, dating men in their forties and fifties has proved a revelation. I guess we have all grown up.
I’ve found older men are more accepting, open to my flaws and their own. As one date recently said, “Now, we all have baggage”.
Most single people in their forties are post-divorce or have children or commitment issues. Perhaps because of that, I’ve found older men are kinder.
Their libidos are also waning so they are interested in more than sex. Or perhaps fatherhood has changed them.
But I’ve found them more understanding if I have to cancel a date or I’m having a bad day.
They don’t blush at the thought of buying Tampax, are interested in what I want in bed and are also empathetic enough not to ghost.
They’ve learnt real romantic gestures are not the grand ones like proposing in Paris, but fixing my broken shower.
They’re also less cocky than they were in their twenties.
I’ve found men in their fifties are open about their own vulnerability and nerves, which a lot of men feel when dating post-divorce.
As one date said to me, “I haven’t had to chat someone up in 20 years”.
There are other perks, too, to being older.
In my thirties, I went on dates with men who couldn’t afford dinner because they had spent all their money going out with their mates.
Now, the men I meet tend to be financially sound and more generous, or just no longer waste all their money getting s**t-faced. So, when I told one man I liked the theatre, he found a good show and bought us tickets.
Mostly, dating in my forties has felt a lot lighter and more honest. There’s none of that BS about playing hard to get, which haunted our twenties.
My life’s full of art, love, travel, nights out and interesting conversations
Now, instead of pretending they want something casual, I find men openly saying they’re looking for love. And I can say that, too, without worrying.
What strikes me about girls on TikTok is how desperate they seem to be to find The One, and how afraid they are of being alone. For me, dating is now like it was in my teens — but it is also better.
And the thing that’s made it so much easier is that I already love my own full life, enjoy my own company and have a rich circle of close friends.
My life’s full of art, love, travel, nights out and interesting conversations.
If a man comes along, I suppose that would be nice.
But now the thought of being 65 and alone, with 70 cats, isn’t nearly so frightening.
