The secret to finding a man in midlife? Write a love list! Oh, and wear silk, soak in a bath and take a Goddess Hour. Just some of the bizarre advice Britain’s dating coaches gave SOPHIA MONEY-COUTTS in her bid to find Mr Right

• Sophia Money-Coutts tells the story of a 32-year-old singleton in The Wish List 
• Spoke to love coaches to gain more confidence about romance in her own life
• British author, 35, said James Preece confirmed one of her biggest insecurities
• Jo Barnett explained why it's important to be on dating apps if you're single 

There’s a lot of masculine energy,’ says James, a love coach I’m talking to via Zoom. I laugh this off, even though it confirms one of my biggest insecurities.

I’m too manly and inelegant, that’s why I’m still single at 35. I have big feet (size 8) and am so tall (5 ft 11 in) that I always had to play the man in school plays.

I’ve long suspected that I’m not feminine enough, and here’s James Preece, one of Britain’s top love coaches, confirming exactly

that: I’m putting off men because I’m too masculine. Oh dear. ‘I’m not saying you look manly or anything,’ James adds quickly, ‘only that a lot of women who come to me are in the same situation: very successful in their careers, but when a man comes along, they’ve got no idea what to do or how to handle it because they’re so independent.’

Sophia Money-Coutts, 35, (pictured) spoke to successful love coaches in the UK, for help with feeling more confident about romance 

Hmm, I think to myself. James sounds a lot like my mother.

Why am I sitting behind my laptop having a lesson with a love coach? Excellent question. My interest in these coaches was sparked nearly two years ago, when I went to a work dinner at a restaurant in Notting Hill, West London, to celebrate the launch of a vibrator company.

My friend Jackie was promoting the business and promised a free dinner and a free vibrator. ‘Why not?’ I thought.

At this dinner, I sat beside a woman who told me her recent life story: having become pregnant with her then-boyfriend a few years earlier, he upped and left halfway through her pregnancy, leaving her devastated and scared.In the midst of heartbreak, she went to see a love coach who suggested she write a list of the qualities she was looking for in a partner — from character traits to physical attributes. So she did, a long list of around 40 items — from height to kindness, ‘solvency’ to a desire for children. ‘And then I met him!’ she told me, beaming.

Apparently, a man with everything she was looking for waltzed into her life, took on her small son as his own and she had never been happier.

I was captivated by this idea. OK, it sounds a bit New Age, but the belief that you can conjure up the right person by focusing on what you’re looking for also seemed magical, so I wrote a novel about it.

Persia Lawson, 34, (pictured) who has been described as a ‘millennial love coach’, met her fiance two days after compiling a list of 100 qualities she wanted in a partner  

My new book, The Wish List, follows the adventures of my 32-year-old heroine, Florence, who has never had a boyfriend and, deep down, feels as if there’s something wrong with her.

Florence’s bossy and socially ambitious step-mother, Patricia, thinks it’s embarrassing and packs her off to see a love coach, who makes her write a wish list of what she’s looking for in her other half. A comedy of errors ensues.

In my book, Gwendolyn is an eccentric who wears Crocs and operates from a bright pink room in Harley Street decorated with heart-shaped cushions. In real life, are love coaches Mystic Meg figures who chant spells and waft burnt sage over their clients to dispel any ‘negative energies’? I interviewed several of them to find out.

Although I told myself this was strictly professional, I was also intrigued on a personal level.

The idea of a school report on my flirting abilities fills me with horror. And rightly so, it turns out 

Nearly two years ago, I went through a bad break-up with someone I loved very much but realised wasn’t my forever relationship. I’ve been wary of dating ever since. If I couldn’t make it work with my ex, if a separation could be that painful, I didn’t fancy giving it a whirl with anyone else.

Could a love coach help me feel more confident about romance, or are they expensive charlatans who prey on people’s most personal vulnerabilities? I was, initially at least, very sceptical.

If you Google ‘British love coach’, nearly 100 million results bounce back. James’s is one of the first websites listed and it proudly proclaims him ‘the UK’s top dating coach and dating expert’.

‘I’m one of the coaches who have been doing this the longest. And I’m married,’ he says, when I ask how he quantifies his credentials.

Sophia who has used dating apps, on and off, since Tinder arrived in the UK in 2013, admits she's tired of swiping through faces. Pictured: Sophia’s selfie taken in the mirror

Sophia’s wish list 

• Doesn’t leave stubble in the bathroom sink after shaving.
• Outdoorsy.
• Likes dogs.
• Has a straightforward relationship with his parents.
• Doesn’t tiptoe into the kitchen and pretend the dishwasher’s still on when, actually, it has just finished and needs to be unloaded.
• Isn’t obsessed with his phone/Instagram.
• Ever so slightly taller than me.
• Funny.
• Kind.
• Loyal.
• Has an interesting job which he cares about.
• Doesn’t leave dubious marks in the loo.
• Likes travelling.
• Doesn’t wear bad shoes — pointy lace-ups or dodgy sandals. (Sorry, I really tried but this remains a deal-breaker for me.)Given that there are no qualifications for setting oneself up as a love coach (often they are life coaches who decide to focus on relationships), we have to take James’s word on this.
  Fifteen years ago, he helped out a friend by working at a singles party in Reading called Chemistry. He had trained as an actor, and it was at this party that he realised he had the confidence and body language talents to help others with their failing love lives.
  James adapted his people skills to become a love coach, and has been busy ever since. (‘Loads of weddings — and sometimes people thank me in their wedding speeches, too!’)
  He calls himself both a love coach and a dating coach ‘because everybody who comes to me is different. Not everybody’s ready to find love straight away’. He says his wife of nine years, Tania, doesn’t mind his choice of career.
  According to the love coaches I speak to, the British dating industry has boomed in recent years, following the explosion of apps that have made single people feel increasingly frustrated.
  Imagine you’re selling a car. You have to describe yourself, ‘bit of a fast mover, nice shiny exterior’, and choose good pictures 
  I can vouch for this; I’ve used dating apps, on and off, since Tinder arrived in the UK in 2013, but have tired of the dehumanising process of swiping through faces, trying to work out whether I could fancy someone based on a picture taken eight years ago at a festival.
  In 2020, you can start chatting to strangers in seconds on your phone, and yet no interaction feels meaningful. Paradoxically, it’s never been easier — or harder — to find love.
  ‘Exactly,’ says James, nodding vigorously. ‘When the apps came along, everyone thought, “Here’s a magic bullet, I’m going to find love straight away,” but most of them don’t work because people are only on there looking for hook-ups, so they get frustrated.
  

  Love coach James Preece (pictured), offers one-on-one sessions that cost from £170 to discuss relationships during non-Covid times 
  ‘And then people think, “I don’t want to do app dating, but I’m not meeting people in real life, either,” so they turn to matchmakers and dating coaches.’
  James says the love coach industry spread here from America. ‘Over there, having your own love coach is very standard. If you want to get fit, you get a personal trainer. I’m a personal trainer for dating and finding love.’
  Writing a wish list isn’t a bad idea, says James, but you can’t ‘magically attract wonderful people’.
  Instead, according to him, being a love coach means encouraging people to work on themselves. ‘What’s their unique selling point? What’s so good about them? If you’re someone who sits all day watching Netflix and doesn’t go out, it doesn’t make you a good catch. We help people become the best version of themselves.’
  How? A personal trainer barks at you in the park to give them 50 stomach crunches. Does James shout at his clients, telling them to ‘get back out there’ and stop slobbing on the sofa? 
  He offers me a coaching session so I can see his technique for myself. In normal, non-Covid times, James offers one-on-one sessions that cost from £170 and meets his new clients in person to discuss their relationship history.
  Sometimes, he arranges a mock date between them and an actor in a cafe or a bar, to see how they perform. The actor then writes a report on the client, ‘saying their flirting skills need a bit of work and things like that’.
  Apparently, answering that the word game Bananagrams is my unusual skill isn’t ‘interesting’ 
  The idea of a school report on my flirting abilities (I’m British and ferociously uptight) fills me with horror. And rightly so, it turns out, because over a Zoom session, James declares that I’m guarded, that I like to take control and use humour to deflect anything too serious or personal, and therefore I’m giving off ‘masculine energy’.
  ‘I reckon there’s a little girl inside you who’s desperate to be set free and be loved and you’ve almost got her trapped inside you. You’re scared of getting hurt,’ he adds.
  This makes me cringe momentarily. But after two relationships that left me heartbroken, I’m definitely nervous about being hurt or hurting anyone, which is why I’ve been on precisely two dates in nearly two years.
  James says this is very common, ‘but it’s probably time to start dating again on a light basis because, say you meet someone in the coming weeks, are you not going to be terrified and out of practice?’ Maybe, I admit.
  

  James (pictured) critiqued Sophia's profile on Hinge, revealing a selfie in the mirror looks like you haven't got friends to take pictures for you 
  He moves on to critique my dating app profile. Although most love coaches insist dating apps are terrible, they also say you need to be on them.
  I’ve had a profile on Hinge — the app for those who want long-term relationships — for a year or so, but treat it like a game when I’m bored. I swipe through men while I wait for the kettle to boil and I’ve never used it for an actual date. This doesn’t surprise James, who isn’t impressed with my profile.
  My first picture is no good, he says, because it’s a selfie in a mirror. ‘If a guy was doing this, you’d think, “Loser”. It looks like you’ve got no friends to take pictures for you. And you look slightly nervous and awkward. Also, you appear to be wearing a wedding ring in it.’
  Ah, yes. It’s not a wedding ring, but because it’s a picture taken in a mirror, it looks as if my rings are on my left hand. ‘It’s like you’ve sneaked off to the loo when your husband’s not around and taken the picture.’
  James moves on to critique other parts of my dating profile. Apparently, answering that the word game Bananagrams is my unusual skill isn’t ‘interesting’ or ‘unusual’, other pictures don’t have ‘an interesting enough background’, ‘those sunglasses are a bit weird’ and so on. Phew. It’s tough work this online dating game.
  ‘Imagine this is Auto Trader and you’re selling a car. You’ve got to describe yourself, “Bit of a fast mover, nice shiny exterior” and have good pictures of you, so you get the attention to start with.’
  I promise I will edit my profile accordingly (only one picture with sunglasses is allowed) and he gives me some first-date tips because, he says, once I’ve made his suggested tweaks, I’ll be ‘dating a lot of people’.
  ‘Will I?’ I ask nervously.
  

  Jo Barnett (pictured) who became a love coach after getting divorced, said she became passionate about helping others to avoid the mistake of marrying the wrong person 
  ‘Yes, and your time is precious, so the first date is just drinks, one-and-a-half hours maximum, so you leave them wanting more. No dinner, there’s too much pressure. And who’s going to pay for it?’
  Also, he adds, ‘don’t talk about Brexit’. Is Covid too much of a conversational dampener? No, says James, it’s perfectly fine so long as you focus on the ‘positive’ aspects. ‘Talk about how you’ve been enjoying the chance to relax or learn new skills.’
  Another British love coach who thinks you have to be on dating apps if you are single is Jo Barnett. ‘If you’re not in the race, you haven’t got a chance of winning,’ she says.
  A trained life coach, Jo became a love coach after getting divorced seven years ago. ‘Having married the wrong person, I became passionate about helping others avoid that mistake.’
  When we speak, she has just come back from a date. ‘I had no expectations and I was going to cancel beforehand because I wasn’t feeling it — but it was lovely,’ she says.
  It all comes down to confidence, Jo adds. ‘That, and then for women it’s being open-minded in the same way I had to be open-minded today, because I hadn’t got a brilliant vibe from him over the phone — but you have to give people a chance.’
  Ah, yes. I recognise this aversion in myself and tell Jo I’ve previously written off dates for wearing the wrong shoes. No, she says, I cannot give up on someone simply because I don’t like what they have on their feet. OK, I promise, thinking I still couldn’t date the sort of man who wears winklepickers.
  Writing a wish list is a good practice, Jo says, but it depends what type of list. ‘A healthy list would have things like kindness, intelligence and independence on there. The unhealthy list would say, like, 6 ft 2 in, dark hair, blue eyes. People should have an idea of what values they’re looking for — but in terms of appearance, you can’t be that specific because you can’t manufacture someone.’
  

  Jo (pictured) said it's important for people to have an idea of the values they're looking for in a partner, but you can't be specific about appearance 
  The final love coach I talk to says she met her fiance because she wrote a wish list herself.
  Persia Lawson is 34 and has been described as a ‘millennial love coach’ who specialises in helping thirtysomething women find and sustain relationships.
  She decided on this career path after a turbulent childhood and early foray into romantic life.
  Her parents were drug addicts, which led her to look for validation from men when she was a teenager to get the attention she craved. After several destructive relationships where she cheated or they cheated, she started going to Sex And Love Addicts Anonymous meetings — a 12-step programme based on Alcoholics Anonymous — and reinvented herself as a love coach after that, having studied cognitive behavioural therapy.
  In 2015, while writing about her traumatic past for a book called The Inner Fix, Persia compiled a list of 100 qualities she was looking for in a partner.
  ‘They weren’t all non-negotiable, but it was an interesting exercise,’ she says. ‘He had to be sociable because I am and it wouldn’t work otherwise. He had to be adventurous and solvent because I’ve had to carry too many penniless guys.’
  Two days later, she met her fiance, Joe, at the Wilderness Festival in Oxfordshire.
  ‘It was very much love at first sight,’ she says. ‘Our relationship’s not perfect, but we’re both committed to working on ourselves and on “us”, and that’s made all the difference.’
  

  Sophia (pictured) said she was told to be more open-minded, make an effort with dating and stop worrying about what men are wearing on their feet 
  Persia says she sees a lot of women ‘around the age of 30 who desperately want to be in a relationship but have very unhealthy patterns around love, whether that’s extreme cheating, like me, or perhaps never having had a relationship.
  ‘I see a lot of successful women who are operating in their “masculine”, trying to manoeuvre and control the dynamic at every turn, and that doesn’t work so well in their love life.’
  Ah, there’s that masculine word again. I wince and ask what she would recommend for someone like me. She offers various packages starting at £797, but says, ideally, it would be her ‘deep’ 16-week programme, Love For Leaders, which would take me step-by-step through the changes I could make in my life.
  ‘In the short-term, I have this really fun practice I call Goddess Hour,’ she adds.
  This is ‘an hour where you get into your feminine. You turn off your phone, put some music on — sexy or whatever, can be jazz, just something that helps you relax — light some candles, dim the lights, have a bath or glass of wine and read a book. Perhaps put on some silk. Really get into that energy and reconnect with yourself. It makes a huge difference.’
  Hmm, OK. So, according to the love coaches I’ve spoken to, I need to be more open-minded, make more of an effort with dating, stop worrying about what men are wearing on their feet and put on a bit of silk. I’m not sure I own any silk. Years ago, I bought a navy negligee before a weekend away with a boyfriend, but I fear it’s a polyester-silk blend. Maybe that will work?
  After speaking with the love coaches I feel more confident that I should (dread phrase) ‘put myself out there’ more, that a few bad dates needn’t be the end of the world. I’ve also tweaked my Hinge profile as James instructed — smilier pictures, no selfies, nothing that could be misconstrued as a wedding ring — and am delighted I’ve had more likes and messaged two men.
  My mother shouldn’t buy a hat just yet — but it’s a start.
  The Wish List by Sophia Money-Coutts (£12.99, HarperCollins) is available from August 6 in hardback, e-book and audio download.