I looked tired and middle-aged – and that's when I finally met a man worth dating

Fully intending to take a break from relentless and often exhausting dating apps for a few weeks, I made a plan to “date myself”. Dating myself means early nights, movies, healthy food, books and general self-care in the form of all things nourishing – including a new exercise regime involving weightlifting (see below). I’ve had moments of feeling deeply overwhelmed recently.

It feels like grief, grief at losing the life I assumed I’d always have – a husband, two kids, a dog, a secure family home. So called simple things – nothing to do with money or fancy holidays, just the bare-bones basics. The lack of security and facing the unknown territories of divorce scratches at my throat in the middle of the night, sending me into a mind-bending spiral so violent, I sometimes find it difficult to breathe

During these unpredictable, let’s call them “episodes”, I put on the Calm app, douse my pillow with lavender oil and try to relax myself back to sleep. Or I flip open my laptop and google things like “how long does it take to mend a broken heart” and “should I get a puppy?”.

Broken hearts. Ugh. I’m considering going away for a week-long retreat by myself. Pre-children, I used to do it a lot. From hardcore fitness boot camps, to hippy-dippy yoga holidays to restorative hiking holidays in Spain. This time I’m looking for a retreat that might include talking therapy.

During my 2am deep dive on Google, I came across the Mending Hearts Retreat in East Sussex, which I found reassuring – just the fact someone has created a retreat for the broken-hearted made me feel relieved that I’m not alone.

My resolution to self-date lasted precisely one day thanks to the fact I met the Welshman. Walking down the street with several children, not all of them mine, but all of them shouting and screaming as they whipped down pavements on scooters, I could not have looked less attractive if I’d tried.

Zero make-up, beanie hat, an old coat reserved for dog walking (and man-repelling), I looked tired, middle-aged and over it. That’s when I met him. He was walking down the road with an ex-colleague of mine from Net-a-Porter, an impossibly glamorous place to work where sporting high heels at 9am is practically a job requirement.

That evening, my phone flashed. Ms Net-a-Porter’s name lit up in yellow. “Great to see you earlier, my Welsh friend asked for your phone number. He’s a really nice guy, works hard, is kind, has hair, teeth, not married, that kind of thing. Let me know?” Sure, give him my number, I replied, a little too quickly. Mr Welshman messaged a few hours later. “Hey! Nice to bump into you earlier, fancy meeting?”

I left it overnight, not wishing to appear too overly keen. Only the double blue ticks of my read WhatsApp message could have given away my enthusiasm. A date with someone not met on a dating app, how intriguing. The following day, I casually (I jest, there is nothing casual about me) dropped him a message. “Hey, yes to meeting. Here are the days I’m child-free, over to you”. He chose a date. A location was set. For the first time in more than a decade, I was going on a date I actually felt excited about.

I could tell I was nervous by the sheer effort I put into my outfit. I spent an hour fussing over which black jeans to wear (I own several pairs, pretty much all them identical) and whether a boot with a heel gave the impression of someone trying too hard. (This hideous, hour-long fashion flap inspired my date-night fashion edit below – every cloud!) Turning up at the bar of his choice (outdoor dining, obviously), it was a relief not to have to scan the place looking for someone who may or may not look like their photograph (see last week’s column for details).

The night flew, says Duguid

From the moment I sat down, he immediately made me laugh. He was warm and funny and seemed to not only appreciate my busy life, but actually get it. Being a full-time mother of two demanding guinea pigs and part-time parent of two boisterous kids – nothing seemed to put him off. The night flew. I laughed so much I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.

With the comfort and warmth of good wine and great company, I realised this was the most relaxed I’d been with anyone in years. The bill came. He asked if he could pay – and I let him. On a first date, I usually insist upon paying half, for good reason. If I pay half, there is no expectation for me to see them again, I literally owe them nothing. And if I’ve paid 50 per cent of the bill, there’s no need for me to feel guilty if I decline a second date

By the time he paid, the waiters were clearing tables around us. And as we said our goodbyes beneath the soft glow of a nearby street light, that’s when it happened. The kiss. He leant in and he kissed me. And I kissed him back. As I pulled away, I began to panic.

What were the rules? Are there any rules? Should I have waited until date two? Was I supposed to be kissing the Welshman in public? Would he call again? Would he ghost me? So many friends have been ghosted online and in real life. Ghosting is when someone appears to be really interested then suddenly goes quiet, or worse, deletes you from the dating app or blocks you from their phone. It is a horrible thing to go through.

The following day, I waited for his WhatsApp, every bleep and sound from my phone that wasn’t him felt like an intrusion. Around noon, a message arrived. “Loved last night, can we do it again soon? Oh, and what’s your address?” Around 2pm, the doorbell began to ring. Wine. Flowers. A box of chocolates. Several Deliveroo bikes sped to my front door in a flurry. And there I was, worried he wouldn’t be interested. Had I met him online, I would have thought he was crazy, but given we met in real life, I knew I had nothing to worry about. Or did I? I’m so new to this, after a decade spent in a relationship, I no longer know the rules. What’s too much too soon? Perhaps I am about to find out.

I’ve worked out what to wear on a date

Should you find yourself in a situation where, like me, you’ve been invited out by someone you actually quite like, try to channel that date-night fear into something more productive, such as cleaning or organising the kids’ wardrobes. Do not, I repeat, do not try everything on, including your wedding dress, to prove A: you’ve still got it (ladies, you’ve still got it) and B: you have nothing to wear (ladies, you have so much to wear). I’ve spent hours standing in front of my wardrobe over the past few weeks, convinced I won’t get through that evening’s date without an entire new wardrobe. However, should your wardrobe spontaneously combust overnight, and you genuinely find yourself in need of a quick fashion update, may I suggest five things? A blazer; boots with a heel; new jeans that feel fashion-relevant; a chunky gold necklace; and a soft silky blouse. This, my friends, is my fail-safe date night look. Just add wine and eyeliner and off you go. You’re welcome.

Stacey's date-wear recommendations

1: Necklace (£150) Laura Lombardi, net-a-porter.com

2: Blazer (£350), By Malene Birger, bymalenebirger.com

3: Jeans (£110) Levi’s, levi.com

4: Silk blouse (£69) M&S, marksandspencer.com

5: Boots (£135) & Other Stories, stories.com

Physical strength will help your mental strength too

How are you feeling, coming out of Lockdown 768? If Lockdown 1 was all about keeping fit, the past lockdown has been about staying sane. I have failed at both. I used to stay sane by running on a regular basis, but all my fitness plans are out the window – I’ve totally lost my fitness mojo and I don’t know what to do.

Well, of course I know what to do, do what I always do. When I feel stuck, I read. I’ve been following writer and journalist Poorna Bell on social media, and her recent book, Stronger, inspired me to ditch my old fitness routines and look into weightlifting and strength training instead. A few years ago, Bell’s husband committed suicide, and she eventually found inner strength through powerlifting. She started slowly, hiring a trainer who showed her how to lift weights, until eventually, after years of practice, she can now lift twice her body weight.

The good news is we don’t need personal trainers to invest in our own strength. I’m starting slowly, with an online kettlebell class. I’ve committed to 12 weeks and will update you as I go. Regardless of your situation, over the past year we have all had to dig a little deeper. The mental toll of lockdown must not be underestimated. I’ve been through a marriage breakdown and need to regain my inner strength. I know the power to do so lies literally in my hands.