Dear Roe,
I’m female, in my 40s, and started using dating apps earlier this year. My husband died after a long-term illness. It has taken me many years to recover emotionally and only in the past two years do I feel ready to rejoin the land of the living. Family and friends have been encouraging me to try dating. I initially baulked at this but realise I would enjoy having someone special in my life. I joined dating apps with the assistance of friends who date. I find it the most disappointing experience. I spend my time feeling like a judgmental prude or feeling rejected by people I’ve never met. I have not even managed to go on a single date. I’m on a fee-paying site and matching with men in their 40s and 50s. I’m honestly shocked by the communications I’m having. I was sent unsolicited dick pics (several times); asked for pictures of my feet, breasts, bum; told to wear specific types of underwear; and asked to commit to being a submissive lover before a date. I have not met any of the men posing the questions and the conversations turned sexual without any initiation from me. And then there’s the ghosting and blocking – that seems to be common. How do you meet people without these apps, and is the dating world now so forward that it’s usual to discuss sexual matters so early on? I’m sure I sound terribly old-fashioned, but I find dating apps genuinely creepy. It has taken everything I have to put myself out there, now I want to retreat. I’ve been widowed for more than a decade and while I don’t expect a connection like I had with my husband, I do like the idea of having companionship. My more seasoned friends are telling me to keep going, but I find it sleazy.
You’re not old-fashioned to expect people you’ve never met not to sexually proposition you or sexually harass you. You are very normal, your standards are exactly where they should be, and how so many grown men are still doing this to women on dating apps despite the endless discourse about how women hate it and recognise it as an act of deep misogyny and a parade of red flags would be mind-boggling if the general concept of sexism, entitlement, and a desire to objectify women wasn’t so old, unoriginal and predictable.
There is a lot of app fatigue and cynicism out there, which can ironically lead to even worse behaviour overall – people feel disheartened by bad behaviour on the apps, so try to protect their energy and their hearts by not investing too much energy into their app interactions, or by remaining noncommittal. Soon enough, no one has bothered filling out their profiles, conversations become bland, people ghost and all you’re left with is drained energy and maybe some unsolicited genital photos, for your trouble. It’s no surprise that there’s a general move away from the apps, as people attempt to combat dating app fatigue and burnout by either taking breaks from online dating or focusing on trying to meet people in person.
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Taking care of yourself is going to be really important here, and that’s going to include a blend of maintaining your boundaries and holding on to hope. You’ve been through a huge loss and I know you didn’t imagine this is where you would be at this stage in your life. Coming from a marriage to the apps is inevitably going to feel hugely disappointing, and you may need to move slowly and mindfully to protect your heart without closing if off. You’ve worked hard to heal, to rebuild your life, to be brave enough to say, “I’d like to share myself with someone again”. That’s a powerful, generous act – and it deserves respect in return.
And I promise that there are people out there who want the same things as you, but yes, it might take some concerted effort to find them.
So: a few practical things, if you decide to keep going. Be choosy with apps – ones like Hinge or even paid matchmaking services tend to attract more people looking for genuine connection. Set strong filters. Make your profile specific and sincere, and make your intentions clear: you’re looking for companionship, not a situationship. Don’t make your profile all about deal-breakers, make it about your life, your passions, your values – but feel free to state that you’re looking for someone genuine and respectful. Don’t feel the need to engage with anyone who doesn’t put effort into their conversation with you, and if anyone gets sexual, creepy or invasive, block them and move on, no explanations needed. You’re allowed to protect your peace and your energy.
[ Online dating fatigue: ‘Irish people are terrible on the apps’Opens in new window ]
Limit your time on the apps. Don’t scroll endlessly. Set a timer or a number – for example, swipe for 10 minutes or message just three people at a time. Prioritise moving off the app quickly: a short phone or video call can save you weeks of chatting with someone who isn’t right (though be careful about giving your number out).
And know this: you’re allowed to step away, to log off, to try other routes. Let your friends and family know you’re open to being set up – they might know someone who’s thoughtful and kind, and just as wary of the apps as you. Look up local singles clubs or events – there are a lot of them about. Say yes to social invitations, classes, workshops, even the odd solo coffee – not because they’ll guarantee romance, but because they root you back in the real world, where so many rich forms of connection live.
I know you’re looking for someone right now, but you’re also recalibrating and rebuilding life after loss. Embrace the opportunity to try new things, and try reframing your idea of success to be more expansive. When the long-term goal is to find a long-term partner, it can be hard to see anything short of that as a success. But shifting your mindset can make a big difference. Instead of measuring success only by whether a relationship forms, try noticing the smaller wins along the way: an interesting conversation, a fun date, a moment of genuine connection, even a new friend. These are all meaningful experiences in their own right. If you laugh, feel seen, enjoy someone’s company, or simply know that you’re being true to yourself while being open to possibility – that all matters.
Note when you’re framing things in extreme ways: when you write that you’re “feeling rejected by people I’ve never met”, I can tell you’re getting into some binary thinking. Framing it as rejection rather than mutual disinterest or part of the exploration process puts all the weight – and all the blame – on you. Dating is a two-way street, and not everyone will be right for you, just as you won’t be right for everyone. Instead of seeing these moments as signs of failure, try viewing them as part of the natural sorting process – a necessary part of finding someone truly compatible. People who aren’t interested and remove themselves form the pool quickly are saving your time and making way for real possibility. The mindset shift here is moving from “Why don’t they want me?” to “Was that a good match for me?” That small change can protect your confidence and keep you grounded in your own power, rather than constantly questioning your worth.
Take breaks when you feel yourself become cynical or burned out, and do something kind for yourself. Know when to rest, and when to try again; choose connection without abandoning your boundaries. You deserve love that meets you where you are, and whether it finds you tomorrow or further down the line, it will be all the sweeter because it had to rise to meet you.
