NZDating Success Stories

Many thousands of Kiwis have found happiness using NZDating, here's a small selection of stories from generous couples sharing their romantic experiences.

  • 'One more shot.'

    Two and a half long years on NZDating and I was about to give up. There was nobody out there for me. All plonkers, fat, bald and boring. I can forgive bald. Fat is a bit like the guy doesn’t have much self-respect. But boring is unforgivable.

    My age was a major sticking problem in the whole set up. As a male friend of mine said, what do you expect? You’re 54. All the single guys your age will be looking for younger women. Even though I didn’t look, feel or act 54, (what does 54 years old mean these days anyway?) my age became the opening line every time…you can’t be really that old? Is your pic from a decade ago? Some guys just saw my age and went no further. So I experimented and took 10 years off my listed age and put that on another dating website. Then I had guys telling me I was a liar as they cross-referenced me. So I gave up and just said over and over, “yes I do look young for my age. I try hard to keep in shape, eat well etc. Do You?”

    Mostly, if they were h
    I knew I wanted to see him again.
    onest, they’d have had to say NO I’ve completely let myself go but still expect to hook a hot babe younger than me.

    Boy oh boy I had met some real doozies. A guy whose pic was long distance and out of focus (I should have known) that described himself as quite good-looking, said he’d drive down from the North and meet me for a coffee. As we walked towards each other I could see from across the car park that something was amiss with his face. As he got closer I realised his whole nose was at right angles to his face. The first thing he said to me was “Well go on then have a good look”! I could have lived with the face but then he spent the next half hour telling me all about his ex!

    Then there was date man. He seemed to view women who agreed to go on dates with him as notches in his belt. It was early on, before I’d learnt the quick getaway rule and I made the mistake of accepting a picnic at the beach date. I had told him I was into kayaking. He was wearing a very old wetsuit which was so stretched across his paunch that the rubber was cracking under the strain. He’d forgotten my name so called me kayak girl. The picnic was bakery trash, cream filled donuts, which he scoffed and talked at the same time (Yes all about his job) spitting bits of food at me.

    Just one of many dates which ended with me running in the general direction of away clutching my singleness to me like a much loved blanket.

    But despite my sick dates, I found writing my profile a very healthy exercise. The process of actually having to put down and refine what it was I was looking for really got me thinking about what it was I really wanted in a man. I started off asking for someone like my ex and was very focussed on appearances (wild blonde hair, blue eyes etc) then moved onto more detailed stuff about what I liked to do. Moonlight walks on beaches and glasses of wine in front of roaring open fires please no. And guys who described themselves as just your ordinary kiwi guy. Who the hell describes themselves as ordinary! I knew I was looking for someone extraordinary, someone artistic but not pamby pamby, someone masculine but not macho. A fine balance between feminine and masculine traits is hard to find. I thought it was probably impossible but I still would much rather be single than settle for any of these guys.

    So feeling despondent I said I’d give it one more shot. I trawled through a bunch of profiles in the 40 to 65 age group and sent messages to a couple of them. Next day I got “you look like a live wire” from a 40 year old who called himself “Fairly Good”. Mmm understated, ambiguous. No mention was made about my age for once. So, following the rules which I’d learnt the hard way, I built up no expectations (well maybe tiny ones) and asked if I could meet him for a quick coffee in town in a couple of days time. From his pic he looked quite laid back and casual, nice enough face, denim jacket. His profile was also quite understated. He said he was looking for a casual, monogamous relationship with no expectations.

    It was a hot January afternoon. One of my girlfriends had advised me not to dress up as that might make me look desperate, so I wore baggy cotton pants and a loose crochet top and put my mane of streaky blonde hair up in a tight knot. I looked more like I was off to do some gardening rather than meeting the man of my dreams. I had taken a cocktail of drugs: Valium for my nerves, stematil for my stomach, nurophen for my head and diastop for the other end. Now I’m not usually a pill popper but as this was my last gasp and I wanted love again so very badly, there was a lot riding on this quick coffee. I remember arguing with myself as I trudged down the street towards the café where we’d agreed to meet. Come on I know you don’t want to do this, But you Have to. Just do it and when he turns out to be another plonker just gives it all away. When that empty, aching feeling comes back, when you feel that void inside where your heart should be, just push it away. Oh God PLEASE let him be OK…

    When I walked into the busy café I saw someone reading a newspaper, and thought it might be him. He must have sensed my arrival because he quickly dropped it and smiled. I staggered towards him, kicked the leg of the table (I think I had overdone the cocktail) and in a tight, small voice asked if he was Andrew. The eyes! They were very clear and a melting deep olive colour. And with those eyes he looked right into me, like he was ready and open to discover who I was. Now steady gazes hadn’t been a feature of any previous dates. More the sliding, don’t look at me cos I’m boring and ugly thing. He told me I looked much younger than my years which was really something because I’ve probably never looked so bad what with the drack clothes and the boiled look from the heat and the pills.

    So first it was the eyes, then I noticed the white white teeth, full head of black hair greying at the temples and then came the jackpot: when he stood up to get our drinks, I saw he had a great ass! Tall, dark and handsome and with a great butt. He’d said he was a manager so I wasn’t expecting jeans and a casual shirt. And I certainly wasn’t expecting someone who wanted to know all about me. I really relaxed partly because I knew I wouldn’t have to be saying as nicely as possible that I didn’t think the guy had a hope in hell. But also he just had this effect on me. I somehow trusted him. Already.

    I knew I wanted to see him again. Amazingly, he seemed to feel the same. We walked out onto the hot street together and agreed to keep in touch. I drove straight home and emailed him this message “At last a man with integrity!” His reply was “when can I see you again?” We met 3 days later at an art exhibition where I was looking as gorgeous as possible and had taken no pills to get me there. He was wearing a shirt, which was exactly the same colour as his eyes. We were even more relaxed with each other as we drank wine and talked about art and lots of stuff. Turned out we had the same sense of humour and did a fair bit of laughing. Relaxing stuff laughter. Then afterwards at dinner, thinking he might be a commitment phobic, I asked him if the monogamous, casual, no expectation thing precluded him from falling in love (I don’t mean with me, I just mean in general, I said….har-hardy-haha).

    After dinner where there was no empty small chat and no uncomfortable silences, he walked me to my car and placed his hands on my shoulders (beautiful clean pianist’s hands, did I not mention those?) and gave me the loveliest kiss. Not aggressive and not woosie either. Just the right touch. He told me later it was a “yes” kiss.

    He took his time jumping my bones. In fact 3 weeks later I was wondering if perhaps sex wasn’t really much on his agenda. We’d agreed already to a “no withholding” policy with each other so one night in my kitchen I said I had a big question to ask him, a question that I was quite coy about asking him. Just trust me he said. I asked, he laughed, flashed those eyes at me and said you couldn’t be more wrong. Its just that I can’t do it unless I really know and love a woman but you’ll be pleased to know I’m getting there at high speed.

    All I really needed to say in my profile was “to adore and be adored back”. That says it all. And that’s what we got.

    We are now coming up to our 3rd year together, and still can’t believe we managed to find each other. At first we’d shake our heads and say, “Just how did I manage to find you? Just what are the chances of finding the perfect partner from all those wandering singles out there? How could we be so lucky?

    Yes we were lucky but I know our chances got a huge leg up because we’d first worked out what it was we were looking for, and were brave enough to go look for it.

    Thank you NZDating.

    You made the looking so much easier. Like sitting in a chair in the comfort of your own living room and having a stream of possible partners walk past you, no no, no not you, hey wait up, yes you look interesting, tell me more….

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