Right, so after the last two dating disasters (see Part 1 and Part 2), you’d think I’d have had my fill of dating for 2025. But no… third time’s a charm, or so I thought. Honestly, looking back, I have to ask myself: why do I do it?
I had no intention of hopping back onto the dating sites. I was sick of the endless small talk that led nowhere. But then, whenever someone actually suggested a proper, respectable date, I’d find myself thinking, “Why not?” even if the physical spark wasn’t really there. I worried I was being shallow if I didn’t give them a chance. I was trying to be “fair,” but in reality, I was just ignoring my own gut.
Then there was this mutual friend. I knew he was interested, and every time we bumped into each other, we got on really well. He made me laugh until I cried, and I found that incredibly attractive. There were hurdles, of course – he was in his early thirties, and I did worry about the age gap and how others might see it. More importantly, he didn’t have children. I did not want to go backwards; I’ve raised my kids, and I had no desire to start over. I didn’t want to start something if the “kids conversation” was going to be a dealbreaker later.
We eventually got together, and he assured me he wasn’t bothered about children. Now, perhaps the laughs were blinding me, because he lived with his mother and couldn’t drive. I told myself, “Who am I to judge?” He seemed independent enough in other ways; he had a decent job and was financially stable. I’m not materialistic, but as a woman who owns her own home and works hard, I do expect a certain level of responsibility and security in a partner.
It was all going well… until it wasn’t. Now, age wasn’t the issue – I have close friends of a similar age – it was the emotional maturity that was lacking. Whenever we had a disagreement, his reactions were ridiculously over the top. I’d find myself looking at him, wondering if he was joking, because the things he took issue with were so petty and his arguments were just so immature.
The “Ignoring Me” Incident
One specific example stands out. We were at a mutual friend’s house, and he’d been feeling unwell. I’d told him repeatedly, “We don’t have to go, but if we do, I am happy to leave the second you’re ready.” I was very clear.
Later that evening, while I was mid-conversation with a friend who was in full flow, he decided it was time to go. I acknowledged him, but naturally turned back to finish my sentence. Apparently, I wasn’t fast enough in dropping everything for him. He turned to his mate and said, “See? She’s ignoring me again.” The sheer pettiness of trying to show me up in front of our friends was a massive red flag. I apologised just to keep the peace, but he started lecturing me right there, saying a relationship is about “two-way communication and mutual decisions.” I did not appreciate the sanctimony, especially when I’d spent the whole day prioritising his needs.
We got a taxi back to mine, where things escalated. He threatened to walk out, only to pivot into a dramatic display of crying, asking me if I “really wanted him to go.” It was all so unnecessary and dramatic. We made up, but my guard was officially up.
The Family Gatekeeping
The second example came just before Christmas. He knew I’d be on my own during the day as the kids were away. I suggested I could pop over to his in the evening for a drink. His response was vague – he “didn’t know how his mum would be.”
As the day got closer, people started asking if I’d be seeing my partner. We’d been together for three months, so the question felt natural – but it magnified how weird his “brush-off” really was. When I brought this up to him, his reaction was that he didn’t know if me coming over was “rushing things.”
That really put my back up. I asked if he didn’t see this as a long-term thing, which he denied, but the damage was done. He then pivoted, insisting he wanted me to meet his family “his way,” with a formal meal out rather than me just “popping in.” It left a bitter taste. He was often at my house; I had opened my home and my life to him, yet he was gatekeeping his own life and trying to orchestrate everything on his terms. This was totally at odds with his earlier lecture about “mutual decisions.”
The next day, he came round acting upset, saying he was ‘worried about me.’ I took the opportunity to explain that I felt taken for granted – that he came and went as he pleased without considering my plans, yet I wasn’t even allowed to pop in for a cuppa to meet his mum. He immediately jumped on my choice of words. I said the situation was ‘silly,’ and he barked, ‘You think I’m silly?’ He started gesticulating aggressively. When I told him to stop, he jumped on that too: ‘You think I’m aggressive? I could think of a thousand more ways of being aggressive!’ In my own home, while I remained calm, he was raising his voice and digging his heels in. Then came the sanctimony again: ‘Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I want to do it the proper way. It’s MY family. It’s MY decision.’ When I told him he was being dramatic, he flipped it on me, claiming I was the one who had been dramatic the evening before and that he had done nothing wrong and had no reason to feel bad. I told him to leave.
The U-Turn
We met at a neutral location the next day. He was focusing on specific words rather than the actual issue. Like a glutton for punishment, I agreed to give it another go.
A week later, the “big issue” vanished. He told me his mother had asked what I was doing for Christmas, and when he told her I was alone, she invited me for dinner. He seemed to think this would make me happy, but I was just unimpressed.
It proved that his “proper way” and his “old-fashioned values” were non-existent. It wasn’t his decision at all – it was his mother’s. What had been important enough to nearly break up over had changed in a heartbeat because someone else gave him the green light. The flip-flopping was ridiculous.
I realised then that he was struggling with the power dynamic. I am an independent woman with a life that functions perfectly well, and he felt a desperate need to “show his importance” by creating drama and control where there didn’t need to be any.
The end was nigh.