When my ex-partner left, he uttered something that still echoes in my mind: “You’re amazing. You’ll meet someone else in no time.” But anyone who’s navigated the treacherous waters of dating apps knows that finding someone who not only likes you but also shows up consistently is like searching for a needle in a haystack. For me, it felt almost soul-crushing.
While getting matches wasn’t the issue, sustaining stimulating conversation without succumbing to boredom often felt impossible. And when the stars aligned, and we actually made it to an in-person date, what was our go-to? Naturally, we opted for a drink.
Relying on a Drink or Two
A drink was the de facto first date choice. It’s quick, affordable, and decidedly lower pressure—far preferable to enduring a three-course meal with someone who might just put you to sleep faster than a lengthy airport layover. I’d often snag a casual wine after work, and if there was no chemistry or the guy looked a decade older than their profile photo (yes, this happened), I’d graciously excuse myself after a glass or two.
Drinking became not just helpful but almost expected. While it’s true that younger generations are increasingly distancing themselves from alcohol, many of my peers still viewed non-drinkers as dull—definitely not the impression to make when trying to impress someone new.
First dates can feel daunting. I leaned on alcohol to ease the tension. If there was no spark, a sip or two loosened me up to fill those awkward silences. If the guy was a bit unsettling, the drink gave me the courage to make a hasty exit. And on those rare occasions when I met someone genuinely interesting, alcohol provided that needed boost of confidence to flirt—rather than retreat into my shell like an awkward teen.
Ditching Dating Apps and Booze
As the years rolled on, this routine turned into a Sisyphean cycle of hope and disappointment. I would awaken each morning with a mild hangover, armed with yet another tale for my coupled friends.
I experimented with coffee dates, yet this concept flopped in urban London; commuting for an after-work drink made far more sense. Dressing up for a coffee run on a Saturday was simply not appealing.
A year and a half ago, I made a bold decision: I quit. Not just alcohol, but also dating apps.
Life is Better
The quest for “The One” had morphed into an unwanted full-time job. Endless hours swiping and engaging in monotonous chats led to disheartening outcomes. It wasn’t being single that caused me distress; it was the relentless struggle of trying not to be single. The time wasted was staggering—I could have penned a novel instead of scrolling through profiles.
Since stepping away from the apps and alcohol, my life has undergone a transformation. I now sleep better, feel healthier, and—most importantly—my mental wellbeing has improved significantly. I haven’t shed a tear in over a year (a stark contrast to my previous emotional turbulence, often triggered by interactions with men). The mere thought of re-downloading those apps sends a wave of dread over me—akin to facing my annual check-up.
Today, I’m fully invested in savoring life and making the most of my current situation. As a travel writer and photographer, I explore breathtaking places, engage with intriguing people, and seek new adventures. If romance blooms, it will be organic, blossoming from shared interests rooted in prior connections—real connections where we’ve already decided that we like each other before embarking on a date. Who knows? I might even be open to the idea of dinner.
