• A few years after moving to Alabama for my husband’s job, I still felt lonely.
• To build the friendships I wanted, I started taking classes, going to networking events, and more.
• When I met people I liked, I made plans, and realized it was the key to making friends.

In 2023, a few years after moving to Alabama for my husband’s dream job at NASA, I found myself desperately lonely and facing the prospect of an adulthood over 400 miles from our hometown with a nonexistent social safety net. I felt like we were in a race against time: how quickly could we build the kind of community we would need as we began to build a family?

I committed to spending the entire year pursuing any opportunity that might lead to a connection with others. I took pottery classes and set up coffee dates. I attended networking events and planned baking days. I slid into the DMs of any interesting woman in my area who came across my Instagram feed: “This might sound strange, but I think we should be friends!”

As part of this effort, I began to love planning small parties, and in the process, I realized that if I was willing to be the one to make plans, my ability to connect with others grew exponentially.

I realized that by planning things I wanted to do, I’d attract people I’d want to be friends with

For years, I’d been sitting at home wondering why I had nothing to do. Was everyone hanging out without me? Was I socially inept in ways I hadn’t realized? But once I began trying in earnest, I realized it was something else: no one was planning anything, not really.

Sure, everyone was busy — workout classes, day care drop-off, work deadlines, little league games, family obligations — but they were mostly waiting for someone else to make the first move. So I did. I began hosting regularly, and building community events on my own terms. I sketched out ideas for gatherings that would delight me and attract the kind of person I wanted in my life: seasonal “produce parties,” pumpkin carving, game nights, monthly dinner parties with close friends, watercolor club, and farmers market meet-ups.

In those efforts, I was met with an incredible amount of enthusiasm. I filtered out the people who regularly flaked on me and prioritized those who seemed most enthusiastic about being there. I realized the value of what I call “joiners”: friends who try to say “yes” as often as possible are the fuel for the hosting fire.

It’s a joy to see our small home full of so much life and to introduce our friends to each other, and as we close the door behind the last lingering guest, we smile and sigh and look at our crumb-filled home with deep, aching gratitude for what we’re building.

However, planning does take its toll

But it’s not free to be the planner of the friend group. There is a fair bit of administrative work: coordinating schedules, sending invites and tracking RSVPs, planning menus, and, of course, the monetary expense of purchasing groceries or other hosting obligations.

My husband and I regularly spend a full day preparing to host, but the whole thing feels sacred in a way. We see it as an investment in building the world we’d like to live in, and we hope that it will pay off in lifelong friendships and that elusive “found family” that many millennials pursue.

Still, I find myself stifling twinges of hurt when the effort isn’t reciprocated. It’s a privilege to have the bandwidth to host the way we do, and that’s not by accident. I revel in my position as the friend group’s Ina Garten! However, when I’m invited to something planned by someone else and I’m able to simply relax and show up with a salad or bottle of wine, I realize what a gift I’ve been giving. It’s nice to reap all the joy without putting in all the effort.

I can’t help but wonder: if my bandwidth narrows or my life circumstances change, if I find myself unable to be the one constantly reaching out, will anyone else step in? What would it take to turn a few joiners into planners?

• Wealthy men are ditching dating apps and turning to $25,000 matchmaking services.
• One exec who paid $26,000 for curated dates called Tinder and Raya “a waste of time and energy.”
• Demand for luxury matchmaking is booming — and insiders say it’s all about control and privacy.

What used to be a last resort is now becoming a power move: high-paying men are outsourcing their love lives.

A growing number of high-net-worth male professionals are ditching dating apps and turning to luxury matchmaking services, spending tens of thousands of dollars to find a serious partner.

Frustrated by ghosting, burnout, and superficial matches, some are opting for curated introductions, even if it means paying $20,000 or more for the right match.

Grant Miller, a 39-year-old VFX executive, gave dating apps another try after a breakup last year — and quickly remembered why he hated them.

“I was on Raya and Tinder, and you’d think the experience would be better on Raya — but it’s not. It’s just the same,” he told Business Insider. “An enormous waste of time and energy.”

Years earlier, he’d met a serious partner through a matchmaking service in Los Angeles.

The relationship lasted over three years and convinced him to try again. After interviewing three firms, Miller chose Maclynn, a luxury matchmaking agency based in London, where he now lives.

Since signing up in September 2024, he said he has paid about £20,000, or about $26,000, and been introduced to 16 women through the service.

“We took a very ‘open’ approach as I was available and enjoyed meeting new people,” he said, adding that some dates turned into short relationships or friendships.

One connection, he added, has long-term potential — but “our schedules and lifestyles need some alignment, which has been challenging.”

Still, he’s said it’s worth it.

“When you multiply the time you’d spend dating by your hourly rate, the fees suddenly become not so bad,” he said. “I value my time, and I’m serious about finding the right person.”

The data behind the dating shift

While most clients prefer to stay anonymous, four matchmaking firms told BI they’re seeing a clear increase in demand from HNW men.

Selective Search, a US-based firm, said it’s seen a 35% increase in clients since 2019 and a 65% jump in inquiries. According to marketing specialist Grace Urban, that momentum is accelerating in 2025, with a 23% rise in male clients year-to-date.

“This steady demand has been driven by high-quality men seeking a more intentional and effective way to date,” she said.

Maclynn, the agency Miller chose, reported double-digit year-on-year growth in its HNW male client base every year since 2020.

“This reflects a nearly fivefold increase in just five years,” said Mia Wealthall, the company’s global operations director. By the end of September, 70% of new clients were HNW men, and sign-ups for that group were up 25% year-over-year for the third quarter.

Matchmaking.com also reported a 60% client surge between 2020 and 2021, followed by 25% growth in both 2022 and 2023 and another 20% increase over 2024 to 2025.

“More high-earning men are stepping away from the noise of dating apps,” said Cheryl Maida, the firm’s director of matchmaking. “They’re tired of endless conversations that go nowhere, ghosting, and not knowing who’s actually serious.”

UK-based Ignite Dating said male inquiries are up 42% over the past 18 months.

The industry as a whole is booming. According to Verified Market Research, the premium matchmaking market is projected to nearly double, from $1.27 billion in 2023 to $2.39 billion by 2032.

Who these men are — and why they’re doing this

For Miller, the appeal of matchmaking isn’t just about convenience — it’s about increasing his chances of finding someone exceptional.

“You start doing percentages of percentages of percentages. And you’re down to like one in a hundred thousand women,” he said. “And I’m not going to meet a hundred women on my own.”

What matters most to Miller is ambition and emotional alignment.

“Financial success doesn’t always translate to romantic success,” he said. “It kind of narrows the dating pool if you’re looking for someone who’s not intimidated or overly motivated by wealth.”

Matchmaking helps with that, he said. “I think they’re very good at sniffing out — for lack of a better word — just the kind of ‘gold digger.’ I’m looking for someone who’s additive to my life. And who’s bringing their own value to the equation.”

How matchmaking works

Unlike dating apps, which rely on algorithms and swipes, high-end matchmaking is slow, high-touch, and personalized.

Clients often start with a two-to-three-hour interview, exploring their values, past relationships, and goals.

“They really get into the interview process a ton,” said Miller. “I spent probably an hour or two just chatting through previous relationships, what went well, what went poorly, what I’m working on as a person.”

Matchmakers begin sourcing matches — sometimes via internal networks, sometimes by headhunting. At Maclynn, high-net-worth clients often trigger global searches and discreet outreach.

Matches come with bios, photos, and backgrounds. Miller said the contrast with apps is stark: “You’re kind of meeting, not an actual person, but this hyped-up kind of fake representation of themselves.”

Hinge, Raya, and Tinder didn’t respond to Business Insider’s requests for comment.

Why the trend is taking off now

Jess Carbino, a former sociologist for Tinder and Bumble, told BI the rise of luxury matchmaking isn’t necessarily about rejecting dating apps — but about control.

“This isn’t necessarily a reflection of dating apps generally, but rather shifts related to how people outsource what used to be a very personal, familial, and institutionally-based process,” she said.

“They outsource their laundry, they outsource their food delivery, they outsource, you know, major parts of their fitness to a coach,” she added. “Why not outsource one other element of their life, which is highly salient?”

Pepper Schwartz, a professor of sociology at the University of Washington and coauthor of “Relationship Rx: Prescriptions for Lasting Love and Deeper Connection,” concurred — but added that many wealthy men believe price equals results.

“The idea that money will buy you a better product, a better treat, a better person,” she said. “Whether that is true or not, that’s the theory that many of them have.”

She warned the matchmaker pool may be smaller than clients realize: “They usually believe there’s more denominator available than is actually there, and they haven’t done the homework to know.”

Even so, she said, the pressure to partner up later in life is real — and high-end matchmaking offers the illusion of control in what can feel like a high-stakes search.

“You may hope that something will just happen for you,” she said, “but if you really want love, you’ve got to get out there and look for it.”