I was 25, my husband to be was just 23. I never went anywhere exciting, wasn't a party animal, worked in a very female dominated environment and had little hope of meeting a partner at all.
Then I went on holiday. I was brought up in a family of hill walkers - all childhood holidays were spent in the Lake District or, later in my teens, in the Alps. I hadn't had a proper holiday for years as I wasn't the sort to have friends I would go on holiday with. So when I hit 25, I decided if I wanted to do anything, I should get on and do it on my own, so I booked a walking tour of Mont Blanc.
I was very fortunate. I had been on similar holidays in my teens with my parents and the other people in the walking group had been middle aged, but on this holiday, they were all, bar one, young. You met the people you would be walking with in Geneva airport. As I was getting off the plane, I was behind a man in an Fair isle sweater. He looked Irish and held what I thought was an Irish passport in his hand. I had always fancied Irishmen and I remember thinking, I wish he was going to be in our group.
Well, he was! That man in the Fair isle sweater was my husband to be. Turns out it was an Australian passport but he is of Irish extraction so I was right about his looks. We got chatting the next day and have hardly been apart ever since (that was 24 years ago, married for 20 years).
If it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone. My advice to you would be to pursue the things you love as you are far more likely to meet a compatible soul doing the things you love than you are on a dating website.