My first foray into online dating was in 2005, six years after Dating Direct launched

• Relationships,
• Divorce,
• Marriage

Within a week I matched with a recently divorced friend of ours, uncomfortable on all levels seeing how a close friend is selling himself to Г‡ince kadД±n datiing the opposite sex

It was a swift delve because I met my now ex-husband a few months later. But it was one that left me confused – I’d accidentally forgotten to cap the age range so was being served up granddads a plenty.

This time round, after exiting a 17-year e. Tech has come on leaps and bounds and it’s a veritable game of aesthetic Top Trumps. I bumbled onto Bumble initially and then swung via Hinge, which – on the face of it – looked like it served up a higher calibre of potential suitor.

Having never swiped left or right and at 42-years-old with two kids and a weight of unresolved trauma in my arsenal, it was a baptism of fire. It’s like The Hunger Games but imminent death is exchanged for brutal ghosting and awkward answers to “Describe your ideal Sunday…”. Seeing “A roast, a glass of red and a walk” on repeat was unendingly dispiriting.

One Hinger sent this message: “Do you have a sister? I’m into doubling up.” I do have a sister but she’s been married to her wife for five years and even if she wasn’t, sibling incest simply isn’t my bag.

But while navigating separation, moving on can be the hardest bit. It’s the final frontier of divorce. It’s all well and good saying it’s amicable when there’s no other partner in the mix. But the true test of exiting a marriage with any hint of friendliness is when you’ve – often at different stages – found someone else.

My ex and I have a general rule that unless one of us asked a specific question about our respective love lives, amorous intel isn’t offered up. If a question is asked, we take responsibility for the emotional undulations. There have been moments where one of us has stopped the other mid-sentence because it’s not always easy to know what is or isn’t palatable until it lands. But generally there’s been an air of respect and healthy distance to our exchanges. As a fundamental rule, I don’t want to know about randoms, my need-to-know line sits with those who are likely to meet our kids.

One divorced couple I’ve spoken to is a little further along with blending families and uniting respective broods under one roof. There’s no denying it’s an emotional and logistical juggernaut to navigate. But with a recognition that moving on – and parental joy – is healthy for all, they’ve done it with vaguely happy families residing in their respective abodes. The key to their success was recognising different timeframes. It’s not a competition. Happiness doesn’t come from launching yourself at the first person who doesn’t send an unsolicited photo of his or her extremities. It also doesn’t come from comparing your love life to your ex’s.

My eldest even said to me the other day: “You know I’d be super chill if you had a boyfriend?” This endearing statement was followed up with, “but he has to be handsome, kind, funny, have kids and play with us.” This statement was repeated for my ex but his new partner needed to be “sporty” for some unclear reason. My list will be laminated and taken to every date from here on in with a marker pen and should be handed out by dating apps as part of their duty of care pledges.

While I decided to delete Hinge a few months ago, one message popped up as an algorithm’s-worth of men were about to be erased from my life. It was from a guy who listed “Harry Potter” as one of his hobbies and clearly ticked the “handsome” checklist. I wavered about responding because I was about to make my dramatic exit – that no one would be aware of. But I sent a message back. We met a few days later. So who knows where that might lead?

I don’t think I imagined what the world of dating would look like post-divorce. The additional jigsaw pieces – a new man might have children, too – that would need to be slotted together. There would have to be an innate understanding that the kids are a priority – and a deep and nuanced compassion for how it feels to drop your kids off with an ex. A kindness and empathy for those piercing moments, like the time I found a little mitten in my bag and burst into tears because the separation ache was so intense.

I got sent everything from explicit images of unmemorable genitalia to extreme love bombing and everything in between

I don’t think there’s been a second while navigating the divorce proceedings to consider the light at the end of the tunnel. It feels like such a quagmire of forms and administrative wranglings that it’s hard to see the wood from the trees. But finally, I feel like I’m coming up for air. That there was always hope underneath all the seemingly impossible decisions around disentangling from a ily, and the impact of my decision on our children, at last I feel that the door to happiness is slowly opening.