Ive seen her name and photo - but we cant talk before the date. Will it work out?

Im sitting - trying to look composed - in a London bar. Cocktail ordered, theres a rollercoaster knot of anticipation building in my stomach - Im waiting for a date.

Except this isnt exactly your typical dating rendezvous - because while my date and I met online, as so many people do nowadays, we matched on an app that doesnt allow users to exchange messages until a few hours before the meetup.

I know my dates name and Ive seen her photo, but theres been none of the usual small talk messaging - just a few words to confirm Im looking forward to meeting, and thats it.

I first started using dating apps during the Covid lockdowns - Hinge mainly, but Ive also tried Tinder and Bumble. They introduced me to a vibrant mix of people - some became short-term flings, others full-blown relationships, and then there were the other indefinable in-betweens.

But after a mutual new year break-up (with an ex Id met on Hinge), I returned to the dating app scene as a 30-something tired of the cookie-cutter profiles and weird monoculture. Everyone seems to be looking for someone who "doesnt take themselves too seriously", is itching to make travel and running a personality trait, or is desperate to go hiking. As a wheelchair user, I definitely wont be doing the last two - no matter how much physio I do.

I wanted something different.

So, when a friend told me about an app which cuts out pre-date chat and gets straight to the date, I was intrigued. No awkward talking stage, no wondering if youve asked someone out too early - or left it too late.

Research suggests an overwhelming number of daters have online burnout - so its no wonder dating apps are trying to reignite the spark.

Theres Feeld, an app for the sexually curious; Fourplay, which teams single friends together with other pairs for group dates; and Lex, an LGBTQ+ message board app, while Raya is invite-only for celeb matches.

According to Ofcom, singletons aged under 25 are dating online more than any other age group – so the big dating apps are also adding functionality to try to keep them interested.

In June, Tinder introduced its double date feature. Akin to the Fourplay app, it lets users create a joint profile with a friend. Tinders umbrella company, Match Group, said it needed to keep up with what Gen Z wanted and "build lower-pressure" ways for them to meet.

Hinge has basically been charging more for a premium match-making service. Hinge X, the most expensive tier, charges £24.99 per week for "enhanced access to your type", the ability to "skip the line" and "like priority". The obvious question, of course, is how that works if multiple users are signed up - they cant all be the priority.

These apps preach a tailored focus, but together respond to the same underlying sense of dating fatigue I have been feeling too. Id been sending messages into the ether without any guarantee the algorithm would actually get them to the potential future love of my life - increasingly it felt a waste of time.

And as someone whos been on the end of multiple failed talking stages in the past few months - cutting straight to the date felt a novel thing to try. Because, why not?

Once mocked, online dating is now a global love affair worth billions, and love at first swipe has become the generational norm. Almost 10% of Brits told a recent YouGov poll they met their partner on an app too, so that probably tells us something.

But studies show cross-gender dissatisfaction, with women overwhelmed by matches, while men generally struggle and are more likely to turn to paid features to boost their chances. Add the normalisation of unhealthy dating behaviours like ghosting - suddenly cutting contact without explanation - and some drained daters are deciding: "its not me, its you".

Last year, a class action lawsuit accused Match Group, owners of mainstream apps like Tinder and Hinge, of using addictive game-like features to encourage compulsive use. The case has since been sent to arbitration.

Match Group rejected the claims calling the lawsuit "ridiculous", reports Reuters news agency.

Yet, despite trying to keep us hooked, Ofcom data shows the UKs most popular dating apps saw usage fall by 16% in 2024. Tinder lost 594,000 users, Hinge dropped by 131,000, Bumble by 368,000 and Grindr by 11,000. In June, Bumble laid off 30% of its global staff.

On Breeze, the new app I was trying, once you match a date is booked at a "partner venue" - this is partly how the app makes its money. Users pay upfront for a drink which acts as a soft deterrent to prevent no-shows – but bail repeatedly and your account will be temporarily frozen.

Creating my profile, I wrote that I hoped to meet someone self-assured - able to laugh at life and themselves, while also embracing a dance floor with enthusiasm. Bonus points for cat people and pasta-admirers.

My date, Rozena (not her real name), had amazing eyes - deep blue, with a purple tinge. She said she was looking for a long-term relationship, listed culture and theatre among her interests, and described the "worst idea she ever had" as the time she tried a particular dance move in heels, and ended up in an ambulance.

This felt like exactly the kind of calamity I could get on board with. And thats how I found myself heading to this date.

Id flagged to Breeze that Im a wheelchair user to make sure the venue was accessible before the booking was confirmed. The apps support team was responsive and the bar certainly seemed fine on paper.

But while I could technically get in, all the indoor tables were up a few steps I couldnt navigate, meaning we would have to sit outside. The app later apologised for this and said it would work on how it audits places for accessibility in the future.

I messaged Rozena through the app - in the short pre-date window that opens just before that first meeting. She was understanding and said shed brought a raincoat. Luckily, the rain held off. Less fortunately, the table leg made it difficult for me to wheel my chair under it, meaning I had to do a Tom Daley-style swan dive every time I reached for my drink. At least I didnt knock it over.

Our date was fun - but there was no romantic spark. Rozena admitted her interest in music didnt extend beyond musicals. And while she claimed to be joking, I suspect her disappointment that I wasnt as aligned with her passion for theatre may have been genuine.

Would we have discovered there was no chemistry had we met on an app with a pre-date chat function? Its impossible to say. But the limited pre-meet communication window seemed to make us both more engaged when we met in person.

When I told Rozena I was thinking of writing an article about the app, she told me shed been on a few dates through it. One drawback shed discovered was that her matches werent always close by – shed had dates travel from hours away to meet up. Perhaps this is due to a growing user base.

After finishing our drinks and saying goodbye, the apps chat window stayed open for a few hours, meaning we could check each other had reached home safely.

There was an opportunity to exchange numbers via the app if both parties wished to. I received a message saying Rozena had declined, but she left a note saying she had had a lovely time. I am unable to contact her again, but it gave closure. No ghosting.

Reflecting on this new approach to online dating, I wonder if we are going full circle, pining for the traditional dating culture of the pre-internet age? Sure, it didnt work out this time for me and my date, but it felt much more human, less AI.

Breeze isnt unique in trying to do something different to help daters find love, but my experience on it made me realise that chatting beforehand can actually really help to build rapport ahead of a date (even if I do sometimes accidentally send essays). Even so, Ill probably continue to use Breeze, as it feels quite low effort.

But my Hinge dating profile is still running and Im chatting to four people there - who knows how many might lead to a date? Or perhaps Ill bump into the love of my life the old fashioned way - no phone, no algorithm. Imagine that.