- Claire Volkman, 39, tried online dating after her marriage ended.
- She was traveling for work and went on dates in cities around the world.
- She met her second husband after a year of dating across multiple apps.
A few months after I left my husband, I downloaded multiple dating apps. It felt like foreign territory, as I’d met my ex-husband in college before dating apps existed — a time when “swiping right on Tinder” held no meaning.
I had lost 40 pounds, which made it difficult to find the right photo to use on my profile, and I had no idea what to write about myself. Should I be coy? Or blunt? Silly or serious? After hours of deliberating, I created my first account on Bumble and started finding matches.
My goals for the year were to travel the world, go on as many dates as possible, and attempt to find my soulmate in between airport delays and missed connections. As a travel writer, I loaded my schedule up with assignments that would take me around the world.
I traveled to over 20 countries that year. The further I went, the harder online dating got. My 20+-hour flights to countries like Myanmar and Australia made the journeys to cities in Colombia and Spain seem short.
But the red-headed Brit I dubbed Prince Harry in Hong Kong, and the Aussie I fell for as we hiked up volcanoes in Bali did help fill temporary voids of loneliness.
I didn’t find love abroad
As I traveled from the beaches of Sardinia to the craggy mountains of Patagonia, I found myself swiping, texting, and occasionally questioning my life choices. I created dating app profiles and swiped through candidates on Tinder, Bumble, and Coffee Meets Bagel.
Was I destined to end up with a guy who explained life’s meaning over tapas in Madrid or a tour guide in Macedonia who I later found out had a wife and kids at home? I started to wonder if my life was going to play out as one bad date after the next.
Claire Volkman
After months of swiping and bumbling abroad, online dating paid off, and I matched with someone back in the US who felt different. We spent hours talking virtually. We’d text at 3 a.m. about everything from childhood trauma to which “Friends” character we compared ourselves to.
He was based in Chicago, two hours away from my temporary base in Indiana. The distance didn’t bother me. We were falling for each other even though we hadn’t met face-to-face.
I suggested a date on a day when I would be in Chicago just long enough for a coffee before catching a flight to China As I took the train from Indiana, we chatted about where to meet and agreed on a bakery.
I got there first, disheveled after schlepping down Michigan Avenue with a suitcase and a backpack, and sat down. I noticed him when he walked in, and even though we only had a few minutes to talk, it felt like we’d known each other for years.
Online dating paid off
We spent the following weeks texting and Facetiming whenever we could. He became a constant in my life when nothing else was. While I struggled with an eating disorder, broken body image, heartbreak, and the rather desperate life of a freelance writer, he was there to offer support and love — crazy time differences and all.
We met again one month later, on a chilly night in October, and it all clicked into place. He looked almost boyish, with a worn baseball cap and hoodie, and I looked at him and realized that this was it.
The adventure I’d been chasing — across continents, through a series of questionable decisions and awkward dates in Asia, Australia, and Iceland — had somehow brought me here, to this small corner of Chicago, to this guy who made me believe that love doesn’t need to be complicated and that online dating can help.
So, in the end, after swiping through countless profiles on the dating app Coffee Meets Bagel, I met the love of my life. First online, then in Chicago — not in a foreign country or on a remote mountaintop, but in a corner bakery.
