When dating coaches play cupid

What comes to mind when you think of the word ‘matchmaker’? One friend described an astrologer seated cross-legged in a dimly lit room in a bylane. Another shared stories of an ‘aunty’ in their society who circulates biodata daily. And, true to the digital age, some couples pointed to dating apps and matrimonial websites.

The average Netflix viewer is reminded of Sima Taparia from ‘Indian Matchmaking’. One friend recalled an iconic moment from the show. ‘Sima Aunty’ is with Aparna, one of her clients, when she notices pet photos on the wall. “You have put up all these pictures of kittens?” she asks. “No, that’s my dog, Conan,” says Aparna, as the camera zooms in on paintings of a fluffy brown terrier mix. The exchange went viral — the irony of a professional being so disconnected from the client she is meant to help find a life partner. The incident captures the humour and hijinks that come with navigating the dating world.

With cities and online spaces growing faster than ever, finding meaningful connections has become harder. This has fuelled the rise of matchmaking and dating services. Some promise an ‘elite’ pool of members, while others remain invite-only. Many platforms position their algorithms as their USP, matching people based on highly specific preferences such as books, music, political leanings, pets, and even memes. But now, a growing number of singles are seeking a personalised approach or offline-driven connections, and that is where people like Radhika Mohta come in. She is a Bengaluru-based dating coach and matchmaker.

Radhika “works with legally single people from the point they decide to start dating until marriage”. Each client starts with a dating score on a scale of 1 to 10, based on a quiz about their dating habits (such as communication skills or attachment styles). A second metric comes from self-assessment, capturing how clients rate their dating life and where they want it to be in a few months. The goal of relationship coaching is to help someone move from where they are to where they want to be.

.Why more B'lureans are looking outside marriage. The emphasis is on ‘dating with intention’ — having clarity about your goals and a willingness to grow. “When you know what you are looking for, finding one (right) person to connect with is not difficult. Making progress can be as simple as creating a date-ready wardrobe. The coaching process also helps you become aware of your blind spots,” she says.

. People first

. On the ‘About’ sections of matchmaking platforms, one often encounters the story that started it all. Typically, founders create the service to solve a dating problem they faced themselves.

. Radhika, a 39-year-old originally from Indore, is neither a conventional matchmaker arranging alliances nor a trained relationship counsellor. She is a mass communication graduate. Her journey into relationship coaching began with her ease around people. In her element, she is able to spot connections naturally and finds simple, personable ways to connect — over a funny anecdote, a shared love for coffee, or curiosity about the origin of someone’s name. Before the interview began, she asked me, “What is one thing that made you happy today?” Her attentive listening draws people in and encourages them to share honest snippets about themselves.

. Radhika interned at a radio station in Pune and then worked in news media in Mumbai. Later, she founded a surprise gifting startup, followed by a poha cloud kitchen in Bengaluru. Through these multiple stints, she met people from all walks of life. She began noticing a common thread. “Across cities and friend circles, even during a carpool ride, people felt comfortable sharing their relationship troubles and stories of heartbreak with me,” she says.

. In 2019, she began actively asking people about their dating challenges. “I would set up 45-minute calls with them, free of cost. Most often, they would say they felt better just talking it out with me,” she recalls.

. Being able to listen actively, show empathy, and ask thoughtful questions came naturally to her. Podcasts and books helped too, but ultimately, her attention to people, their behaviour, and dating patterns helped her build a career as a relationship coach. It is a relatively new field in India, and ‘experts’ like her are not too many. She says her eclectic interests help people discover her work. She organises the Poha-Jalebi Club, a breakfast meetup, and also volunteers as a host for startup events. Today, her connections span fields such as IT, law, advertising, banking, and the startup ecosystem.

. In about seven years, she has worked with over 7,000 singles through her range of services, and she has coached more than 1,000 of them. Her clients are aged from their mid-20s up to 40, across India and overseas. “My biggest learning has been that no matter how different we are, everyone shares the need to be seen, heard, understood and believed. This is the same regardless of profession, salary, or status,” she says. Today, she also shares her expertise on dating markets as a guest faculty member at IIM Bangalore.

. Common ground

. Niche apps and regional matchmakers tend to serve those looking to find a partner based on faith, class, caste, language, and other more ‘traditional’ criteria. But the new crop of dating apps and coaches emphasises shared values and interests, drawing users with similar mindsets.

. Radhika’s first matchmaking success came right after the pandemic. She had connected two people working at the same e-commerce company, but based in different cities. What began with her creating a WhatsApp group to introduce them ended with the couple sharing a ‘Save the Date’ update in the same group a year later.

. Radhika’s approach hinges on taking the leap to connect people when she sees “an overlap in personality or interests”. “People hesitate to take the risk, fearing their friendship might suffer if the match fails. But ultimately, birds of a feather flock together,” she says.

. In other cases, her role involves building initial trust or an ‘accountability layer’ through community activities. A girl and a boy once met on a food walk she organised in Bengaluru. Later, they happened to match on a dating app and, since they had already met and been “vetted”, decided to go out. “Another time, a girl messaged me about how she spent New Year’s Eve with a guy she had met on a run organised along Marine Drive in Mumbai, after which she messaged him on Instagram,” says Radhika.

. In her observation, people focused on self-improvement and dating better are generally drawn to her services, which naturally filters some out. “One person approached me and asked to look through my ‘database’ because he already knew what he wanted and how to proceed. But I don’t do biodatas!” she says. In other cases, upbringing and deeply held thought patterns pose a challenge, as some people aren’t able to move past them. In one instance, the wedding of a couple she had matched was called off 19 days before the ceremony due to conflict between the families, leading to disagreements between the couple.

. Cost of connection

. A basic package on mainstream matrimonial services starts at around Rs 5,000 to Rs 10,000, offering access to profiles or a wider pool of them. Add-on costs allow access to ‘premium’ profiles or services such as coaching. For specialised platforms, especially those with global profiles or a large NRI base, rates can start at around Rs 20,000 and go up to Rs 1.2 lakh and beyond.

. Radhika’s dating accelerator programme is priced at Rs 12,000. It includes a consultation, an online course, an in-person gathering, and a post-event assessment call. She also offers a pre-recorded video programme for Rs 5,000, which includes tests to assess one’s personality, attachment style, and love languages, along with activities such as ‘Three questions to ask yourself before you start dating’ and writing a manifestation letter. She also offers a 20-minute one-on-one consultation for Rs 1,500.

. While more ‘faceless’ apps lean towards guaranteed matches in their branding, matchmakers make it clear from the start that there are no certainties and no refunds. Bengaluru-based Anamika (name changed), a retired nurse and mother of three, specialises in setting people up in an ‘arranged dating’ format, where families are closely involved. “I connect people; it is up to them to take it forward the right way,” she says.

. Forgoing rigid dating checklists is something many services and professionals emphasise. “Conventional dating can be draining, because people focus on outcomes as if they are dealing with commodities,” Radhika says. For men in their mid-30s looking to date, hair loss is a major concern, with some getting “cancelled” by potential partners immediately. Body image is also an intense challenge for women, who often face invasive questions and comments.

. An old classmate, who is intermittently plugged into the matchmaking process, with nudges from her family, says the scrutiny makes the process exhausting. “I am so tired of people digging into my financial background or asking around about my family’s reputation to see if we’d be a good match,” says the 29-year-old, who works at a law firm.

. A Forbes survey this year revealed that over 78% of dating app users report fatigue or burnout. Factors included the pressure of creating a public-facing profile, the high incidence of ghosting, the depersonalised process, the seemingly endless pool of users, and a lack of meaningful conversation. “These apps are built to make it difficult to match with the right person. The algorithm is built for retention,” believes Rohan, a software engineer who recently quit the apps. He adds that people are increasingly lying about themselves on their profiles; many turn out very different in person. Other users reported high expectations to be impressive and witty from the start.

. Having met her own partner at a coworking space, Radhika points to the power of shared interests and activities in easing some of this pressure. In her early work, this included concepts like audio-only dates, and slow dating within communities on Discord. The ambit has now expanded to morning runs, board game nights, movie clubs, coffee shop meetups, and pickleball matches.

. To Radhika, the growing popularity of community events shows that people are done with dating in “digital silos and isolation”. “Earlier, people would meet at house parties, concerts, potlucks, or movies,” she says. She believes that connecting in non- performative spaces, where people share activities they genuinely enjoy, makes connections richer.

. While there is a strong case for common ground, for some, the attraction also lies in differences. “I had never dated someone from another community before, until I met my partner on a dating app. I enjoy learning about his culture. He thinks differently from the people I am used to, which is refreshing,” says Minal, a 29-year-old marketing professional.

. Listening to users

. A key differentiator in matchmaking services is how they build trust with users. A few months ago, a singles’ events company came under fire on Reddit after reports emerged of them charging men for entry, while paying a group of women to attend and pose as real users of the service. In their battle to maintain a balanced gender ratio, many platforms also offer free entry for women while charging men. “If (enough) women are not signing up, do they trust you?” Radhika asks.

. For her events, she chooses well-lit venues with separate bathrooms and low noise levels, and has female volunteers to help out. Feedback from attendees of other events helped shape her approach initially, and she now continues to learn on the go. Understanding what formats work and what overwhelms people, such as speed dating or being photographed, is key. Her takeaway: women are more likely to attend gatherings that do not explicitly market themselves as singles’ mixers. “For the past 15 months, we haven’t put together any ‘singles’ events as we found women were less willing to show up — and what is the point if people are not comfortable?” she asks.

. Being present and approachable has also been vital. “At a run, a woman participant came up to me and shared that she was uncomfortable with another participant taking everyone’s phone numbers, including hers,” she says. Radhika intervened and ensured the issue was addressed immediately.

. Exploitative pricing and scams in the dating market have made this trust-building process more challenging. Clear messaging and listening closely to user feedback can help tackle this, she says.

. World of possibility

. Even in this world of options, dating fatigue is a consistent and real struggle. If you have been single past your early 20s or in your 30s, you have likely heard at least three of your married friends say, “I can’t imagine dating in this climate,” or “I’m so glad I don’t have to date now, it is a nightmare”. The overarching narrative about dating apps, matchmaking services and matrimonial websites has been one of a painful, losing battle.

. All is not lost, Radhika emphasises. Whether through relationship coaching or community building, her goal is to help people meet and engage with each other calmly, with connection and celebration at the centre. Particularly as people get older, single individuals often encounter narratives that they are running out of time or options. “I want people to know that being single is only one part of your identity. At the same time, there is always hope. You have to go into the world with an abundance mindset,” she says.

When dating coaches play cupid

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