The author of this story is known to Mamamia but has chosen to remain anonymous for privacy reasons. The feature image used is a stock photo.
‘Easy-going English Paediatrician ‘Mark’’ was his Tinder profile. A picture of him looking content on a sailing boat. He wasn’t conventionally attractive but had a look about him. Like he wasn't your 'typical' kind of fellow. I was right. He wasn’t.
I clicked and we started chatting. My mother is English, and I had spent large parts of my childhood there. I understood his formal language and humour. His quirks reminded me of the British schoolboy cousins I had been raised with. He told me what he looked for in a woman was ‘her brain’. Finally, I may have matched with a man who didn’t ask me for my profile picture in the first two minutes. He sent me sweet drawings and was responsive. He told me ‘he was moving to my city as he was training in neonatology’. I was intrigued. What a calling. I was a single mother and a busy professional. He sounded lovely. My job was fast paced but not so admirable. With his position, I assumed he had integrity and heart.
I met him on a bridge outside a pub. He didn’t look much like his profile picture. He wasn’t what I went for. He wasn’t tall and dark-haired, but I loved his accent and his delight in showing me the magazine he had purchased. A ‘left of field’ read. He was someone who had more to them than beer and football. We had a drink and they served us the best champagne by mistake. An omen. It was a rushed interlude as he had a plane to catch. He was here briefly scoping his new city. We shared a kiss. A definite spark. I wanted to see him again.
At 30, Sophie Cachia's life was turned upside down. Post continues below.
I dated Mark for two years and at the time I was committed to the idea that I had found my true partner in the world and even though he was odd, I thought I could help him navigate life. I had married very young and left my husband when my youngest was a newborn. My husband was besieged with addiction and mental health problems. I wanted him to seek treatment, but he always denied a problem. In the end, I had fled the marriage, taking the children with me. I had always wondered how I had found it so difficult to find a new partner, when I was told I was smart and attractive. I felt that the usual fellow would not do. I wanted someone with intellect and culture. Men had always liked me but I was ‘picky’. Haunted by the mistakes of the past. I had found it increasingly lonely over the years as I failed to find what I thought I was looking for. For the most part I hadn’t looked. Very early on, I had decided Mark was potentially my person. A man with depth and integrity; integrity being by far the most important characteristic. He played the ‘saving babies’ card so that everyone could see what kind of man he was. He sent me pictures of his patients, all hooked up to machines. ‘My office’ he would text with babies surrounded by equipment and technology. He wanted to impress… and it worked. Upon reflection, he knew how attractive this looked to women. But very early on there were issues.