“When I was courting…” Oh, that gem. The phrase my mum proudly trumpets to precede a piece of sage dating advice which she has saved for me, her only daughter. A nugget of wisdom she gained along the treacherous path of dating that she robustly navigated, unyielding until she finally, finally met my father at the ripe old age of twenty-one. Oh what a struggle that must have been, finding the love of her life a whole three years after her eighteenth birthday. My oh my, how did she not lose hope?

Given my mum’s rather limited experience of dating in her twenties (thirteen months of experience to be exact), I don’t always have an excess of confidence in my mum’s dating advice. Especially given that she didn’t realise until this year that men no longer actually dance in clubs, rather they bob from side to side, half-heartedly attempting to match the song’s beat, clutching their drink in one hand – “but if they’re holding they’re drink they can’t move their arms properly”…her confusion confirmed that clubs aren’t what they were in the 80s.

But this week, the words that followed “When I was courting…” struck rather a poignant chord. This followed a week of me moping around after yet another prospective boyfriend turned out to be a bit of a let down.

It was so simple – “When I was courting, men made an effort.”

It hit me right where it hurt, as I realised I had given so many chances to a boy I wasn’t even in a relationship with, on the basis that “that’s just what guys are like”.

Sure he stood me up, leaving me sat in my car for over an hour because he was in the pub and “lost track of time” – but he said he likes me. And yes he did offer to pick me up to go for dinner then cancelled ten minutes before he was due to arrive because his friends wanted him to play snooker – but it was me he called when he wanted a lift home. OK so he did say he was too ill to meet up, then I saw him in his friend’s Instagram story enthusiastically joining in with a round of Jaeger Bombs – but he did comment a fire emoji on my latest outfit selfie.

As I tried to justify this ongoing list of his faux pas, my mum became increasingly enraged. With him, yes, but more so with me. “How many times have you let him disappoint you Sash? You’re letting him treat you like a doormat. You should have told him to sling his hook weeks ago. What is wrong with you?”

“But mum this is what boys are like,” I tried to explain. “If I finish with a boy over this type of behaviour, I’ll be single forever.”

“Well when I was courting, men made an effort.”

She pointed out that of course there will be times in all relationships where one partner will let the other down. Her real exasperation was at how early on in our romance this pattern of disappointment was emerging, and how unperturbed I seemed at having been treated with such disregard.

Unsure if my mum was disproportionately annoyed, I sounded the situation out with a couple of friends, one in a relationship, one single. Both agreed that while his behaviour does not paint a positive picture on paper, the reality is we have come to expect and accept this behaviour from males of our generation. Especially early on in the are-we-aren’t-we stage of the romance.

My mum pointed out that this is the exact stage at which we should be expecting maximum effort: “He should be chasing you, not leaving you to sit in your car while he gets in another round.” She recounted how men would surprise her at work with lunch, turn up at her house spontaneously with flowers, bring presents for her mum just to get her on side too. “That’s what you deserve my darling, not a man-child who chooses snooker with the lads over a date with you.”

Humouring my protestation that this is just what boys are like now, she quizzed me on what makes these chaps so complacent that they no longer feel it necessary to woo. My only guess…the apps. Tinder, Bumble, Happn, the other classier ones that nobody under 28 actually uses – they have transformed us as females from desirable beings whose attention should be earned into an infinite line up of disposables to be swiped through with mere insouciance.

Is the chat drying up with this girl? Don’t make an effort to be interesting, just delete her and swipe through some more – there’s enough of them to keep you going for years.

Has she still not put out by your third date? Don’t waste your time mate, there are thousands of girls at your fingertips. One of those probably will!

It may be relatively true that I am just self-destructively picking the boys whose arrogance impedes their ability to make an effort. But, giving myself an ounce of credit for a second, I do think there is an element of truth in the theory that the apps give boys so much choice that they no longer see it worthwhile to make that effort.

Needless to say, this particular boy has been told he can go swivel, but I won’t pretend that it’ll be much better with the next one. My expectations are low, but does that mean my requirements should be too? I guess that depends on what I value more: my own self-worth or the sporadic attention of an apathetic partner.