But with my 50s approaching, I’m at an age when I’d like someone to cuddle up to at the end of the day.
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My phone was flooded with hundreds of men who matched my criteria — aged 40 to 55 and all within a 60-mile range. By the end of the first hour, I had swiped right — or approved — about 50 possibles who I liked the look of.
A few hours later, I got my first match — one of the men had liked me back.
Every day, Claire Morton thinks back to that moment in November when she could have saved her marriage. While she loved her husband, like most couples in long marriages, she felt they had become a little staid and set in their ways.
Her husband of 24 years, the father of her three children, had come home from work and announced he didn’t love her any more and wanted to leave. Their sex life was hardly the firework display of their 20s, and sometimes she’d look over at this snoring, paunchy, greying man on the other side of the bed and wonder: ‘Is this it?
When I asked why, Dave’s profile instantly disappeared.
Clearly, I was going to have to keep my wits about me. When I first dated 30 years ago, we’d shyly share a warm Bacardi and coke and talk about Duran Duran.
To Claire, it sounded like a different world; a sweet shop filled with thrills and excitement, all available at her fingertips. Sadly, six months later, Claire would do anything to be back in the marital home, listening for the sound of her husband’s key in the door.
For she, like countless other middle-aged divorcees, has found the world of internet dating — of which Tinder leads the field — to be a tawdry, loveless, moral abyss.
Over my time on Tinder, I found that the more I swiped, the more fussy I became. By a process of elimination, I realised my ideal man was a Paul Hollywood lookalike in a management position or running his own business.
The arbitrary way in which I started to dismiss men shocked me — especially when I realised there were thousands of people out there doing the exact same thing to me. Window shopping, reducing fellow humans to a number of physical attributes on which we reject or pursue them? I tried to strike up a conversation with every man I matched with, but half never even responded.
So when super-muscled Dave popped up, saying he was a member of an elite Army regiment on a secret mission to the Middle East, I decided to do some digging.