After more than 100 dates, six years single, and every dating app disaster imaginable, Kiwi woman Sophia Berry-Smith hit breaking point with modern online dating. Burnt out by swiping, ghosting and dating app fatigue, she realised the problem wasn’t her – it was the way we’re dating. Now, the founder of Shortlist is on a mission to change dating in New Zealand, ditching algorithms in favour of intentional, human-first matchmaking for people who actually want something real.
There’s no official qualification for becoming a dating service founder… but someone who was single for most of their adult life, whose used them to go on more than 100 dates and suffered through the absolute dredges of human connection SURELY is a great place to start.
Kiwi Sophia Berry-Smith is that gal, and after six single years and more dead ends than she could count – average dinners, half-hearted chats, last-minute cancellations, and the boomerang boys who never quite disappeared – she realised something uncomfortable: “Modern app dating isn’t built for connection. It’s built for engagement, endless kind – the more you swipe, the more you stay.”
Sophia was single for most of her adult life, bar a couple of relationships – the longest lasting two years – and her most recent single stretch ran for six long, character-building years after a pretty rough breakup. In that time, she clocked up average dinners, half-hearted chats, fleeting sparks that fizzled by dessert, and a rotating cast of men who hovered just close enough to never quite disappear. “I’ve seen the good, the bad, and the painfully average,” she says – and painfully average might actually be the most damning category of all.
Sophia dated extensively in London, a city she describes as “truly survival of the emotionally resilient,” and her war stories read like a cautionary tale of what happens when dating becomes a numbers game. There was the inconsistent guy she let hang around far longer than she should have, only to discover – thanks to a friend posting his photo in a London girls’ group calling out shady men – that five different women knew him under five different names. Years later, he resurfaced by sending her £1 with a message trying to reconnect.
“Desperate,” she says, flatly.
Then there was the man who chased her through London Bridge during peak hour, jumping escalators and weaving through crowds in a scene that felt less rom-com and more psychological thriller. To really seal the deal, he had his mum with him. He got her number, messaged a few times… and then ghosted her anyway. And, of course, there was the straight man who went all out with flowers and grand gestures, only to later match with her male best friend on a casual hook-up app.
Wild behaviour aside, what wore her down wasn’t the disasters – it was the repetition. The endless cycle of meeting, hoping, investing, and walking home feeling quietly deflated. “You put your best self forward, hoping for the potential of a great date,” she says, “and it ends up being the same story.”
For a long time, Sophia didn’t even know what she was looking for. “I was caught in the cycle of casual dating – chasing the highs but avoiding real depth,” she says. Chemistry felt intoxicating, connection felt complicated, and when there were no strings attached, it was easy to confuse the two. A lot of that, she admits, came from past experiences that had made her avoidant. But over time – and with a lot of self-work – she got honest about what she actually wanted deep down: something committed, secure, and loving.
That clarity didn’t arrive gently. Her lowest point came after a pregnancy scare with someone she barely knew, and the way he reacted forced her to confront just how far her reality had drifted from what she wanted for her life. She was approaching her mid-30s, open to a family, craving something real – and the gap between desire and reality was impossible to ignore. “It was confronting,” she says, “but it became the catalyst for change I needed.”
What Sophia was experiencing personally was also playing out culturally she says. As she points out, we say we want connection, but the way we’re dating says otherwise. “We swipe in spare moments between meetings, half-watching Netflix, waiting for Uber Eats, or killing time on the loo. Dating has become admin. Every match another task to manage, every conversation another open tab in our already overloaded brains. Convenience has replaced curiosity, and choice has become noise.
“Dating apps promised to make love easier, but instead they’ve made it disposable,” she continues. “We’ve gamified intimacy, turning human connection into a dopamine-driven loop of likes, matches, and “what ifs” that rarely lead anywhere meaningful.”
She’s not wrong, here’s some stats:
- 78% of dating-app users report feeling burnt out or fatigued (Forbes Health, 2025)
- Only 1 in 5 say apps lead to something meaningful (Pew Research Center, 2023)
- Just 21% believe algorithms can predict love (Pew Research Center, 2023)
- Around 90% of online daters feel disappointed at least sometimes by the people they meet (Pew Research Center, 2023).
For many singles, especially busy professionals in their 30s and 40s – and increasingly Gen Z – swipe culture has stopped being fun and started feeling hollow. What’s emerging in its place is intentional dating: a conscious decision to slow down, choose with care, and date like you actually mean it.
Sophia lived that shift herself. Ironically, she did eventually meet her partner on Bumble, after years of rolling her eyes at app success stories and assuming they were for other people. “The difference wasn’t where I met him,” she says. “It was how I was dating.”
After moving back to New Zealand from London, she made a deliberate commitment to do things differently. She hired a matchmaker, not because it magically delivered “the one,” but because it shifted her mindset. For the first time, she was dating with real intention. When she inevitably downloaded the apps again, she had rules:
- Say no faster to what’s not right
- Focus on one person at a time – no background noise
- Always have a phone call before meeting
- Give people a second chance.
Hayden was one of the first people she matched with. They spoke on the phone for an hour before meeting, and something immediately felt different.
That experiment – turning dating back into something human – became Shortlist.
Shortlist is a curated matchmaking service for commitment-ready singles who are done with the noise. There are no algorithms, no public profiles, no endless swiping. Singles apply through a detailed intake form that explores values, lifestyle, and what they’re genuinely looking for, followed by a one-on-one video call. From there, introductions are curated as blind dates, with feedback after each meeting helping refine future matches.
“It’s not rocket science,” Sophia says. “It’s human.”
Shortlist is built on the idea that we don’t need more options – we need more discernment, more accountability, and a little old-school magic. Everyone on the list is vetted and genuinely ready for something real, which changes the energy entirely. “What’s been interesting since launching Shortlist is hearing from single men who feel the same way,” Sophia says. “Questioning if it’s them. It’s made me realise these feelings are universal – modern dating dynamics are exhausting for everyone.”
Why does she believe it will work? Because intentional dating works, Sophia says.
“Shortlist was created to bring back what dating lost – curiosity, spark, and genuine interest. Instead of algorithms, we use intuition. Instead of performance, we prioritise privacy. Instead of volume, we focus on intention.
“Everyone on Shortlist is vetted and commitment-ready – those willing to put their hand up and say, I’m ready for something real, and done with the games.
“Because love shouldn’t feel like another algorithm to hack – it should feel human again.”
