Diary: Dating in Durham
Is there such a thing as a retroactive hard launch? LOL
I have had 2.5 British boyfriends (the .5 is because he wasn’t technically British and we weren’t properly dating, more on that later). But since this blog is called Girl Gone Durham, I’ll just focus on the one that happened here.
Arriving in Durham
September 2024: Me and my best friend Thora on a night out in Missouri, the night before I left to move to Durham.
It's funny how no matter how old you are, going back to school is a time of reinvention.
Instead of new crayons and binders, this year I walked into class with a fresh tan, highlights and a lash lift. The months following, I went on a couple of random dates, but no boyfriend until around Feb-ish.
Around October, I went for coffee with a rando who didn’t offer to pay for my £4 latte and told me he wanted to be a poet. Respectfully, I knew right then that he wasn't the one.
Meeting Mr. Perfect
February 2025: Flowers Mr. Perfect sent me two days ahead of Valentine’s Day…again, perfect.
I did end up dating someone amazing. We met on Hinge. He told me I looked like Sabrina Carpenter (a lie I accepted immediately), took me to Slug & Lettuce on our first date (LOL), and it was all very wholesome.
He was kind, funny, successful, paid for every Starbucks—and never pissed me off even once. We took things slow: three months of dating before it was “official.” It was perfect… maybe too perfect.
He messaged me “good morning, beautiful” every morning and called me every evening at 5:30. As much as I wanted them to, the “butterflies” never fully showed up. So, I had to be honest with myself and acknowledge that I need the “butterflies” even if they sometimes feels like panic attacks LOL.
When I am infatuated, I go all in: blabbing to my friends non-stop, baking them chocolate chip cookies on a random Tuesday, nails painted a specific colour, etc. With him, I wasn’t baking the cookies (even though he deserved them). So, we ended.
So I’ve started to think—if it didn’t work with someone that wonderful, maybe the apps just aren’t my thing. The apps are all about finding the perfect person on paper, the check-list if you will: tall, 2 years older, handsome, good degree, well-travelled, etc.
But sometimes, it's the not-your-type types that work.
For example, “boyfriend .5” who had a totally different life path and was younger (which I typically avoid), I had a massive crush on him within 48 hours (it was a holiday, cut me some slack).
Dating in Spring
April 2025: En route to my part-time job with an instant coffee from my flat building.
I’m not anti-apps, but meeting in real life is just more fun. Luckily, I’m currently in a lot of places where I could meet someone: uni, work, travels. Honestly, I don’t need Hinge; life is Hinge. Since the breakup with Mr. Perfect, I have been on one date with a guy I met in town.
However, he told me his middle name was “Brough,” like after Middlesbrough FC…(I’m not kidding).
For the Americans: that’s like having “Tuscaloosa” on your birth certificate. That is a dealbreaker for me. So, I respectfully declined the second date.
Otherwise, I’ve just been living life, trying to finish my studies, work, plan summer holidays, and apply for post-grad roles. Speaking of which, if anyone has a job for me, please let me know :)
What I’ve Learned About Dating in Durham
If he won’t buy your coffee, he’s not worth your time.
Taking things slow allows you be more level-headed.
Chemistry > checklists.
IRL > apps.
So, that's dating in Durham—a few randoms, 1.0 boyfriend, a lot of lattes, and one big lesson: I’d rather wait for someone who makes me want to paint my nails.
