In February I set myself a personal challenge to go on 28 blind dates in 28 days. The aim was to raise funds for two charities, but the reaction from my friends and family was all the same: “You’re nuts Aimee.”
They didn’t understand it. I was repeatedly greeted with baffled faces asking me how, why, who, when, where? But I told everyone not to worry — I had a plan.
In normal times I’m the one sending people on blind dates, through the dating agency I set up in lockdown. This time a group of trusted friends arranged the dates for me, so the matchmaker got to experience the fun of not knowing who she’d be meeting until just before the date itself.
Despite being blessed with a constantly charged social battery, even I underestimated how chaotic the whole experience would be.
Aimee receives flowers on one of her dates
I knew it was going to be a wild adventure that would likely go down as the peak of my 28th year around the sun (which it absolutely has), but I will admit I was not prepared for the mental, physical and emotional toll it would take on me.
The 28 dates marathon took being booked and busy to another realm. The daily struggle of feeling wired but also tired was tricky to balance. Living off the buzz of a blind date a day kept my energy fresh, and the pressure to be the best version of myself on every date was my kryptonite.
At the start of the challenge, I set up a WhatsApp group with my nearest and dearest who formed a cheerleading squad, coaching me through every date. They relished in the post-date daily musings in the form of a voice note, and I valued the applause they all offered me.
Aimee with an anonymous date
I suspect you want to know about all the dates. And I could have written this article reviewing every date, as though each of them was a press night for a glittering, new West End show.
I could reveal all about the friend who I’d wanted to go on a date with for more than eight years. I could write about the guy who took a photo of the bill to business expense the date. Or maybe spill the tea on the guy I kissed after one too many tequila shots.
The story about the guy that unknowingly made me cry would be a cracker. Or the guy who knowingly made me laugh from the moment we met. And then there’s always a guy that shows up one hour late (one star for him).
But on reflection and in my processing of this rollercoaster experience, what I have discovered about dating, and above all, myself, is far more interesting than the dates themselves.
Referring to your insecurities on a first date is a disservice to yourself.
I became aware very early into the marathon that all these men shared something in common. Nearly every single guy cited an insecurity of theirs on the date. Some more than others, but it surprised me as the month went on just how much people were willing to reveal on a first date.
It also made me hyper-aware not to refer to my own little anxieties. Of course, we all have parts of ourselves that make us feel insecure, but just because it bothers you, doesn’t mean it is on the radar for anyone else. Self-deprecation can also create an awkward vibe on a date.
I know it is cringey, but this is where loving yourself before you can love someone else comes into play. When dating, accepting your insecurities is part of the journey towards owning what you bring the table.
The right person will want you for all of you (quirks included). And anyway, aren’t you supposed to be the best version of yourself on a first date?
Becoming totally acquainted with myself before the dating marathon commenced was invaluable
Dating can be exhausting at the best of times, so imagine how demanding going on a date every single day for a month can be.
Historically, I’ve been known to dedicate periods of my adult life to getting to know myself better, actively choosing to neglect dating. But boy did February make me thankful for the weighty time I have spent dating myself.
Some singletons engulfed in the dating world wonder why they are not finding success on dates. Nine times out of ten this is because they don’t know who they are yet or what they’re looking for.
And awkwardly, they aren’t self-aware enough to understand this. Would you go to the doctor without a problem, assuming they will know something is wrong? No. So how can you go on a date and expect to meet your soulmate without knowing who you are?
In my humble opinion the practice of self-love and self-care is underrated. It is impossible to be the best version of yourself on a date if you haven’t looked in the mirror and addressed your flaws.
By doing the inner work you’ll naturally attract stronger connections on dates. Knowing your value, your worth, and being secure within yourself is the most powerful tool you can bring on a date. That kind of energy is magical, and unknowingly you will sparkle.
We are all guilty of thinking we “know” someone.
This is especially true in the Jewish bubble, where we are all connected through a mutual friend or a shared experience. But define “know”.
There were plenty of guys who participated in the 28 blind date challenge who I thought I knew, and they thought they knew me. But the reality was, we didn’t know each other at all.
The combination of social media and Jewish geography creates judgments and allows us to form opinions, when only being face to face with someone in real life can let you form a real-life judgment of them.
I can admit I’d previously misjudged some of the guys I dated. Once I’d spent time with them, I realised I was guilty of having created a false persona of them in my head, which was far from who they truly are. And that’s the beauty of blind dating.
There we have it. I spent 28 days out of my comfort zone. I paused setting up everyone else for one month, and I dated 28 men. I discovered that there are some absolute gems out there. Ninety one per cent of the men were mensches and the nine per cent that weren’t, want to be.
I dated without intention, which, ironically, offered me clarity on past, present, and future dating escapades. I leaned into just putting myself out there.
My biggest piece of advice: if you’re single and looking to find someone, get on some dates. Maybe not 28 consecutively but give yourself a chance. I wish someone had told 21-year-old Aimee this.
I am humbled to have raised just shy of £9,000 for Chai Cancer Care and GIFT — two very worthy causes close to my heart.
Oh, and if you are wondering, I did ask a couple of the guys out on a second date. After all, all is fair in love and blind dating…
