The strange world of post-divorce dating as a lonely single mother
Alice Judge-Talbot married her university sweetheart at 23 and had two children, before their happily-ever after crumbled and she found herself a divorced single mother on the dating scene.
Here, she shares an exclusive extract from her new book 'The Back-Up Plan'...
As a married person, I always enjoyed meeting new people and discovering new things, so I reckoned my dating life should be no different.
I expected glittering conversation over bottles of wine, interesting individuals who would change my perspective on life and love, and I figured that as an approaching-30 mum of two with only two evenings off a fortnight my spare time was precious: I didn’t want to spend it with men who didn’t fit my idea of perfection – or, at least, who didn’t get close to it.
So focused was I in my quest for the perfect man that I decided to draw up a list of things I wanted in one. My thought was that, if they didn’t tick off at least half of the things on my list, then they probably weren’t going to be the one for me.
I mean, if methodical, precise and ambitious worked for me at work, why wouldn’t it apply to my love life, too?
Thinking hard, I drew up 18 points...
1. Intelligent, or at least well-educated.
2. Tall, preferably taller than 6 foot.
3. Older than me, probably between the ages of 32 and 40.
4. Doesn’t live at home with his parents.
5. Lives near me.
6. Likes music, but not bad music.
7. Has a challenging career that he loves and is passionate about.
8. Likes fancy food and to be cooked for. And cheeseburgers.
9. Respects and encourages my career.
10. Likes children, maybe has some – but doesn’t advertise them to the weirdos stalking their profile.
11. Has a great sense of humour (by which I mean ‘laughs at my jokes’).
12. Hot (duh).
13. Plays some sort of sport or at least goes to the gym.
14. Is fairly cultured, or at least likes to pretend to be.
15. Looks good in a suit.
16. Looks good out of a suit.
17. Understands the value of a nice pair of shoes.
18. Believes in chivalry.
And so I set about my dating game. I went out with investment bankers, entrepreneurs, CEOs, 25-year-olds (I KNOW), journalists, comedians, marketing executives, academics . . . you name them, I’ve dated them (probably). I sat through endless hours of strangers regaling me with stories of their ‘colourful’ lives (I’ll be the judge of that, pal).
I drank red wine in at least four different counties and in front of 16 different open fires, and the only reason I didn’t start a blog about all these awful dates was because my mum told me it would have been mean.
It’s amazing how sterile and calculated the process started to feel. I’d meet someone and immediately assess them for the points I was looking for. If they didn’t fit? Game over.
Men were desperate to settle down with a woman who’d cook for them and massage their egos. Lonely as I was, I just wasn’t up for that
In the course of my dating I met many 30 and 40-somethings who were just desperate to settle down with a woman who’d happily cook for them and massage their egos for the rest of their lives and, I have to tell you, as lonely as I was I just wasn’t quite down for that.
To be honest, I had my own ego to take care of and there really wasn’t going to be time to look after anyone else’s. I started to understand my single girlfriends’ wails when they’d come to me complaining about how they couldn’t find a boyfriend. Granted, the dates seemed to be easy to come by, it was just the quality of them that was a bit dubious.
Really, I just wanted to meet someone with whom I’d share a bit of chemistry and perhaps some interests and hobbies. When I first became single I hadn’t thought that was a huge ask but, as I got deeper into my experiences of dating, I started to feel more and more envious of the 18-year-old me who’d met her perfect match in the most innocent of ways.
I understood that I was an adult now, a mother, and had different thresholds and expectations when it came to the opposite sex, but why was this finding-a-man thing so freaking hard? I was a good person: where was my Prince Charming, Mark II?
Copy extracted from The Back-Up Plan by Alice Judge-Talbot (published by Coronet £18,99 and out now).
