I was watching Jurassic World with my mum when she, ever the romantic, turned to me and said, “You should find someone like Chris Pratt.” Oh sure, Mum—let me just pop down to Tesco and see if there’s a charming, raptor-training, emotionally available Chris Pratt hanging out by the meal deals. Great joke, honestly. Because if there’s one thing dating has taught me lately (or more accurately, the lack of dating), it’s that finding someone thats even remotely an option to date feels about as likely as surviving a dinosaur attack in heels. You’re not fooling anyone, Bryce Dallas Howard!
Have you ever just been so fed up with something that you’ve decided to cut it out of your life entirely? Like, one moment you're tolerating it, and the next you’re dramatically pulling the plug with no hesitation or regrets. That’s kind of where I’m at with dating right now.
Honestly, even talking to people lately feels like a chore. I’ve come to the unfortunate realisation that I’m just too good at messaging. Hear me out: over text, I can make a conversation sparkle. I could talk to a brick wall and somehow it would feel like we have chemistry. So then you meet them in person, all excited, only to realise—ah. The chemistry? That was just me talking to myself with extra steps. It’s like thinking you’ve got great banter (god, I hate that word) with someone, then meeting them and discovering they’re basically a human rice cake.
Which, I suppose, isn’t doing wonders for a dating blog—though don’t worry, I still have a few tales locked away that’ll make you laugh, cringe, and maybe even question the existence of decent human beings.
I haven’t been on a date in weeks, and honestly? I’m not mad about it (sorry, Auntie Sarah). The last couple of guys I was actually interested in turned out to be complete pigs—like, farm animal energy, but with better shoes and worse morals. There’s something uniquely soul-crushing about getting excited over someone only to realise they’re about as consistent as a Wi-Fi signal in a tunnel. And don’t even get me started on the guys who “forget” to mention they have a girlfriend—do they really think we won’t find out? Honestly, the police should just hire heartbroken women to solve crimes, because we’re like human bloodhounds. If there’s a secret girlfriend hiding in the background, we’ll sniff her out.
The last date I went on was the final straw—or maybe the final breath. This man had the smelliest breath I have ever encountered in my entire dating career. It was like his mouth had been marinating in expired regret and raw onions. I sat through it like a champ, but when I got home, I dramatically flung myself onto my bed like a Jane Austen character and announced to my (fake) houseplants that I had given up. And for now, I kind of have. I’m taking a little break from the dating chaos to prioritise myself—and maybe invest in a gas mask, just in case I forget why I needed this break in the first place.
Instead, I’ve decided to give myself the romance I deserve, which currently looks like a well-earned escape to France. Think flaky pastries instead of flaky men, and wine and cheese instead of awkward small talk and disappointing text messages.
Au reviour, for now, I'm off to eat another helping of baguette!
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Oooh girl I feel you! 2025 hook ups are beyond a joke!! Take me back to 90s rnb kind of love. Everyone sells you the idea they know what they want... then you get i need to focus on my work right now or some other bullshit excuse!! Or ive been really busy!
Sorry but In the war men would write letters to women, via pigeon!!! No one is too damn busy!
I've so given up with dating!