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True stories related to dating and relationships

I'm Addicted to Dating!

Shelley Walford's story, 39, from Essex

It was Saturday night. I poured another glass of wine for myself and tucked in to my takeaway for one. Absent mindedly flicking through the tv channels, mixed feelings of boredom, loneliness and sheer terror washed over me. After just four years of marriage, I was on my own again. And with the big 40 around the corner, I wasn't looking forward to being 'back on the market' one little bit.

Me and my ex had met through work. I was his boss. He was younger than me. There was a kind of ego power trip going on when we got married. It was fun. Adventurous. I felt in control, like I was his mistress. We'd met in March and were married by that December with a baby on the way. But the spark I'd mistaken for love was nothing more than excitement. It soon vanished and we both knew we'd rushed into things.

Four years later, I was a 39 year old single mum with very few single friends to go out with 'on the pull'. And despite the wonderful world of cosmetics, I wasn't the spring chicken I used to be. I certainly couldn't compete with the silky smooth, cellulite free species of half naked girls who thought a stretch mark was something you got in an over used pair of tights.

Of course, I had my six year old boy, Matthew, to keep me busy. But you soon get fed up with night after night sat in on your own with nothing but Thomas the Tank Engine for company.

My days of clubbing were over. I needed to meet single men in a more suitable fashion, in a way that didn't leave me looking desperate like Jennifer Saunders' sad character in Ab Fab. I was actually a very sociable and outgoing person, spending all day with all sorts of people as a fully qualified nurse. Being on my own scared me more than the thought of a date with strangers. I just needed to meet them in the first place.

"Why don't you give the personals column in the local paper a go?" suggested a friend one day.

"No way!" I laughed. "That's so sad!"

The next day I went out and bought a local paper, turned straight to the personals section and read the ads with curiosity. I decided it wasn't that bad. I'd give it a go.

'Bubbly blonde looking for friendship. Maybe more.' It was totally unoriginal but I was new to this. It was still good enough to get several messages left in my voice mail box which I collected that weekend. Most sounded duller than a party political broadcast. But one was OK. His name was Steve and he lived pretty nearby. I liked his voice and the fact that he described himself as someone who didn't take life too seriously. I was a sucker for a sense of humour.

That first date was terrifying. But very exciting. I felt like a school kid all over again. We met a few times and got on fantastically. But there was something missing. That spark, that little something extra. We both realised that we were destined to be best mates...but not lovers.

Despite the lack of romance, I was determined not to class it as a failure. It was a success. I'd had a few nights out, which beat Saturday night telly hands down. And I'd made a new friend. After that...I was hooked!

My second date in comparison, really was a disaster. I sat in my car on the beach where we'd agreed to meet. He was rallying his beach buggy up and down on the sand. I waited for the hunk of a man who'd replied to my latest ad to drive over and say hi. I had a picture of him that he'd posted to me, and couldn't wait to meet him in the flesh - he looked gorgeous! And here he was, racing on the beach like a character from Baywatch. I dreamed of how I wanted the next hour to go and drifted off into my own world of romance and sex Gods.

"Hello," came a shrill voice at the car window, suddenly, making me jump. "You must be Shelley. I'm Paul."

He smiled a big smile, revealing the best advert for going to the dentist I'd ever seen. He must have had two teeth if he had any at all! I burst out laughing hysterically, couldn't keep a straight face. He looked more like Paul Daniels than Paul the hunk I was expecting! Not only did he have the misfortune of no teeth and of looking nothing like the picture he'd sent me, which must have been easily twenty years old, but he was also cursed with the foulest of breath and had apparently had a complete personality bypass operation. Three hours later he was still talking about engineering over the same glass of orange juice. I wondered if the edge of my wine glass was sharp enough to cut my wrists.

Sadly for me, that wasn't the last nightmare date. It was the first of many. But as I became more experienced and confident, the nightmare dates began to split up into sub categories. There were the nightmare boring dates, the nightmare pervert dates, and the nightmare stalker dates.

At first, I often felt too mean or bad to say 'no thanks, not for me' as soon as I knew a man wasn't right for me. I'd endure painful nights out, even go on second dates with men I wouldn't have looked once at in the street. But several 'bored to tears' dates later, I became much better and stronger at saying 'no thanks'.

But it was the men who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer who were the worst...and the scariest. One man seemed perfect to start with. He was kind, caring, attentive. I received flowers delivered to my door, loving text messages, romantic meals. We had three dates in total. But I knew deep down he just wasn't my Mr Right, there was something about him but I didn't know what. After I told him, he changed completely, showed his true colours. I started getting viscous, evil text and phone messages, saying that I was an evil bitch who didn't deserve to be happy. He parked up outside my house for two days straight in his van. Never budged. He sent a text saying he knew where my mother lived and that he'd pay her a visit. I was terrified.

"If I ever see you again I'm going straight to the Police...you freak!" I screamed down the phone before hanging up. I never saw him again.

After that date, I gave it a rest for a few months. But the boredom soon crept back. And even a rubbish date seemed more appealing than a lonely night in on my own.

I turned to text dating. You submitted your post code and got texts from people in your area, looking for a date. It was a lot more successful than the paper for actually getting out and meeting people. I must have had ten dates in three or four months. People were braver with the text dating. No pics, no voices. The texts could often be very saucy. The danger was that each date was a totally blind date which had its obvious pitfalls. But there was an extra excitement too. Not knowing what to expect.

I always tried to be as careful as possible, arranging dates in public places and letting a friend know where I was going. I'd often turn up early for the date and case the joint. Once I turned up for a date and recognised the man I was supposed to be meeting from his description of what he was wearing. I was horrified. He looked more like 68 than 38. I felt slightly ashamed as I kept on walking right past him and straight back to the car!

The text dating produced a lot of dates, but no success. And an enormous phone bill. I stared in horror at my mobile bill for £350 one month. I soon stopped text dating after that.

"I'm on the net and having some great results," said Steve, the guy I'd met on my first ever date. "Give it a go."

He recommended a few dating sites and I logged on, built my profiles and uploaded my pics. He was right. The internet was a great way of meeting people. It was a simple case of there being so many profiles for both men and women to look at and email. It was almost overwhelming. In my first weekend on 'U Date', I got 33 messages! And from guys of all ages. The oldest was in his seventies, looking for a younger woman for a bit of no strings action. I laughed at the thought of seeing him naked. Thank God he didn't send me any pictures. Unlike so many other guys - who seemed to think that emailing me a disgusting photograph of their genitalia was all that they'd need to secure a hot night of passion with me at the nearest hotel!

Even gorgeous young lads as young as 19 and 20, desperate to get laid by a sexy older woman and report their conquest back to their pals, were convinced that a video of them masturbating would have me flocking to their bedrooms and stripping off. If I was supposed to be impressed, it wasn't working. If I was supposed to laugh until almost wetting myself, it was working a treat.

The other predator on these sites, as I discovered the hard way, was the married man. Twice, I met up with men who seemed perfect in every way, only to discover they had a wife and kids. One man really wooed me, picking me up in his Porsche and whisking me off to a luxury resort for the weekend. I fell for his charms and was convinced I'd found Mr Right. But the second we'd slept together, he broke my heart.

"You're not for me," he said coldly, "but if you want to meet up regularly just for sex then that's fine."

I was gobsmacked. I felt so used, so dirty. I'd never had a one night stand in all my life. Now, at 40, my record had been shattered.

"Get over yourself you creep," I yelled. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

It became painfully obvious that despite the high numbers of men on these websites, more than half of them were after only one thing...and it certainly wasn't love or romance.

I couldn't trust the pictures they posted as their own. I couldn't trust their description of themselves as honest, caring, single men looking for a serious relationship. And I couldn't trust myself not to fall for it again and again. 'Genuine' was a word used all too often on these profiles. But in reality, few actually were remotely genuine. But when you're lonely, a little affection and a bit of flattery, plus a bottle of wine can get a girl into situations that you wouldn't normally let happen.

One guy described himself as tall, muscular, handsome and Italian. He turned out to be 5ft 3" and had the build of the man off the Mr Muscle ads! There was more 'Italian' in my PVC handbag.

Another man from Bristol couldn't keep his hands off me from the other side of the table in the restaurant.

"You're gorgeous," he letched. "All my Christmas's have come at once. You're my dream woman."

He made me feel sick.

He gave me a lift home but when I turned down his offer of meeting again, he wouldn't let me out the car! It was funny at first, but an hour later I was still persuading him to let me out as he begged me to give him an other chance. I was genuinely terrified as I sat there, wondering what the hell I'd got myself into this time.

After two years of playing the dating game, I've earned the title 'Ice Maiden' from my friends. They think my problem is that I'm too fussy. But the truth is I'm an old romantic, and with one failed marriage to look back on, I'd rather wait for Mr Right than settle for Mr Right Now! I don't think I'm asking for too much. My dream man is no different to any other woman's. Tall, dark, handsome, muscular, intelligent, independent, kind, loving, and with a great sense of humour!

My latest adventure is speed dating. It's definitely a good way of meeting people, but it comes with no guarantees! I've had some great nights out, but sadly they're far out numbered by the amount of awful nights I've suffered. >From being bored to death, to having men not taking no for an answer, >to being practically stalked.

I've had love letters, proposals, churches booked for the big day after one date! Flowers left at the door, boxes of chocolates and bottles of wine...even a kebab and chips from the man up the road in the chip shop!

But for all the fun, it's very hard work being single at my age. Especially when some men won't look at your son as part of the package but more like unwanted baggage. I'm at the stage now where I don't even think I'll meet Mr right through the internet or any other dating method. But the truth is I'm addicted. I've tried refraining from dating in the past but it doesn't take too many nights in on your own for the dating to look like a good idea again.

I know I'm not the only one, there must be thousands of us out there looking for someone with that bit of something extra. Now, two years of dating later and still alone, I've had enough disaster dates to put most women off the idea for life.

I don't know if dating has become a void filler or a lifeline for me, but it's certainly an addiction. And as more and more dating possibilities and services spring up, I can see that loneliness is nothing if not big business. Ideally I'd like to meet a man in a more natural way. The websites are too clinical, too deliberate. There's no element of romantically bumping into a stranger, eyes meeting across a crowded room. The dating sites, text dating and even speed dating are all... to finding love, what IVF is to making babies!

Well, I've got to go now and get ready...I've got a date tonight!