A sign you may be in a “cuffing season” relationship (should you be worried) is you prefer to hunker down on the sofa and watch Netflix rather than go out on dates. I thought that was just called being married? Relationships formed during cuffing season are destined to last no further than February, when at the first sniff of spring, “cuffed” couples come out of hibernation like bears and end the relationship. So tiresome. I can’t think of anything worse than settling for someone just because I’m cold and lonely. Unless, of course, you’re both on the same page, as in, up for some average sex because it’s better than no sex and are happy to end it just before Valentine’s Day, which, according to “dating data”, is when cuffed couples tend to break up. Cheap buggers.
Cuffing season may explain why numerous exes have been in touch lately and my dating app profiles on Hinge and Bumble appear to have more hits than usual. Back off lonely bears, I’m not in the mood to be cuffed. I’m in a much happier place than when I first separated and I’m dating just for fun. Feeling emotionally stronger, it’s only now I am beginning to attract like-minded people, and when it comes to dating in midlife – although my experience is limited – one thing I’ve learned (the hard way) is when one is at one’s lowest ebb, the narcissists circle like birds of prey tracking a bunny. I’m now vigilant when it comes to looking for tell-tale signs of narcissism, signs such as love bombing and demanding full attention all day long.
As a result of meeting a handful of narcissists on dating apps in the space of 12 months, my emotional boundaries are now strong. So how I ended up on a date with another one last week is beyond me. We chatted back and forth for a week or so then arranged to meet for a cocktail. I’d spotted him a while ago on Bumble, and when he landed on my “beeline” (see last week’s column for the full explainer – life is too short to go into it again) I thought, “Oh, go on then.” We met in Soho, arriving at the bar’s entrance at the same time (thankfully we recognised one another straight away, because that could’ve been super awks, as the kids might say).
The minute we sat down; his verbal thrashing commenced. “What do you do for work? How much money is in that line of work? What is your living situation? What is your future living situation? How much did you get in the divorce settlement? Is that all?” Stunned by his grilling, the walls of my heavily guarded fort began to collapse and, unbelievably, I found myself answering his questions. After 45 minutes of being grilled, it became evidently clear I am just not rich enough, and when I asked if he’d like another drink, he looked at me non-plussed and said: “No thanks, I have to go to dinner.” He then left and I rang a friend and we laughed at my lucky escape. I waited to see if he’d send a WhatsApp to say something like “that was nice” or “that was nice but no thanks”. Nothing. So, a few days later, I blocked him. I hope you’re reading this today, you grizzly old bear. Your manners are appalling.
Anyway, back to cuffing season and a brand-new dating app. Designed partly in response to an increase in online dating crimes, Safer Date was set up by Elaine Parker whose mission is to ensure her app users won’t be “cuffed” by a proper lunatic. (As in people who are genuinely dangerous: she herself met a man convicted of domestic abuse on a dating app and ended up in an abusive relationship she found hard to escape.)
It’s the first dating site to undertake ID checks for every sign-up, thereby ensuring no fake profiles – every applicant has an ID and background check. Astonished no one thought to do this earlier, I wonder if it works for gold-diggers looking to find rich (not rich at all) divorcees? On that note, I’m off to hibernate alone.
saferdate.co.uk
Read more: One message out of the blue from an old love and I’m planning our new life in Mexico
