Charles Esther
When my ex-partner moved out, his parting words were, “You’re amazing.
You’ll meet someone else in no time.”
But stepping back into the dating world wasn’t so simple.
Dating apps made it seem easy on the surface — matches came quickly.
However, getting through the endless small talk without dying of boredom or watching the chat fizzle out was nearly impossible.
And when a meeting did happen, it usually meant grabbing a drink.
Depending on Drinks to Get Through Dates
Going for a drink became the default first date plan.
It was affordable, low-pressure, and easy to escape if things didn’t go well.
I often relied on a glass of wine to help me survive awkward silences or boring company.
If the man turned out to be older than his photos — which happened more than once — I could politely exit after a drink or two.
Alcohol helped me be chattier, more relaxed, and brave enough to flirt.
It became a tool to cope with the emotional strain of dating.
Many peers viewed sobriety as dull, and I didn’t want to come across as no fun.
So I drank to fit in, to ease nerves, and to fill gaps when chemistry was lacking.
Breaking the Cycle — Quitting Both
After years of trying, the cycle of dates and disappointment became tiring.
I was constantly waking up with a mild hangover and a new story for my married friends.
Coffee dates didn’t quite work in London, where distances and scheduling were inconvenient.
Eventually, about a year and a half ago, I decided to quit — both drinking and dating apps.
Life Beyond Swipes and Sips
As a travel writer and photographer, I often spend time abroad.
I realized that chasing “The One” had turned into a part-time job.
Swiping, chatting, hoping, and ultimately being let down became routine.
Each conversation that fizzled out felt like wasted energy.
Every ghosting or rejection drained me emotionally.
I wasn’t unhappy because I was single — I was unhappy from the effort of trying not to be.
Dating apps had consumed hours of my life, which could have been spent doing things I love.
If I had written a novel instead of chatting on Bumble, I might have had something meaningful to show for it.
A Clearer Mind and Healthier Life
Since quitting, I sleep better.
My physical and mental health have improved.
Most importantly, I haven’t cried over a man in over a year.
That used to be a regular event in my life.
The thought of re-downloading a dating app now gives me the same sense of dread as a medical procedure.
I don’t miss it.
Finding Joy in the Present
Without the apps and alcohol, I now focus on enjoying what I have.
I travel often for work, exploring new countries and immersing myself in unforgettable experiences.
When I’m home, I catch up with friends, attend events, and pursue new projects.
If I meet someone in the future, it’ll be through shared interests and mutual connection — not through a filtered photo and awkward messaging.
Maybe next time, I’ll even be open to dinner.
