I have decided to find myself a good Jewish husband. I was 13 the last time I considered socialising with, let alone dating, a Jew who wasn’t a relation. He was 12, in my class at religion school and lived around the corner. Since then, I have dedicated my life to assimilating almost to the point of denial.

I want to re-enter the fold, and when I do, I harbour a dream that it will feel like the most natural thing in the world. Because Jews live under a cloud of guilt and superstition, and despite the fact that I am neither religious nor believe in God, a part of me thinks that everything that has ever gone wrong with men was my punishment for straying. I have never even slept with a Jewish man, and yet I entertain this fantasy that when I do, it will feel like coming home.

So I have decided to find myself a Jewish husband. But how? The online dating agency, JDate, of course. Since its inception 10 years ago, JDate has become an essential and valued part of Jewish society. While other internet sites have an air of desperation – that feeling of displaced souls reaching out to clasp a clammy hand in the dark – JDate is the place to where seasoned wanderers return. It is for Jews of all varieties, but particularly those who, like me, have been around the block a few times and are limping home in their Gucci shoes, five Harvey Nichols bags on each arm, ready to settle down with a bowl of kneidlach. With success rates of 50%, it is more effective than any other dating site, attracting some 600,000 people worldwide – that’s 5% of the total global Jewish population – and 20,000 in the UK. In fact, it’s so popular that 12% of those online are gentiles offering to convert.

“It’s for those who are ready to settle down and start a family,” says the lady on the phone. Someone like my dad, for example. After losing his wife of 23 years to the plumber, my father met his third-wife-to-be on JDate five months ago. Before meeting her – and despite assurances that he wasn’t interested in “anything under 45”– my father, who turns 60 next year, had been besieged by twentysomething eastern European and African ladies telling him: “I believe in love at first sight and long to feel your naked body next to mine.”

Meanwhile, my father’s girlfriend, a 49-year-old professional and yummy mummy of four, who places me on speakerphone as she bakes a cake with my father and Israeli cousin, has a different tale to tell. “Oh yes, they were all terribly sexual,” she says of the gentile toy boys who have come in virtual pursuit. Were they gold-diggers? “Absolutely. They were after sex, money, the lot.” Me? I’m just looking for a nice Jewish man. Everyone says they make fantastic husbands. Being from a matrilineal race, they love and understand strong women – the Jewish stance on the Oedipus story is: “The main thing is, the boy loved his mother.” They are funny – because “if you can’t laugh, you cry”. They are devoted to their families, accept demanding women and know how to provide for them, in every way. Best of all, they love eating at great restaurants.

I’ve lurked in the shadows of JDate for six months now, learning the codes of conduct. In this time, I have learnt the following: that initiating contact with any rich man automatically marks you as a gold-digger proffering a fake photograph; that nobody reveals their annual income, even though the field is quite high; and that, within the personality categories, women should never tick the “high maintenance” box, because, frankly, if you are a Jewish female, it is already a given that you are.

It is also acceptable to enter the weight you think you look, rather than the weight you actually are, and, if you are a man, to add an inch or two to your height, because, as we all know, Jewish people are not famous for their stature. It is also not okay to sleep with a man on the first date, nor will he try: by dating you, it means he already views you as a marriage prospect and, therefore, not that sort of girl.

The other day, after six months as a cyber wallflower anonymously scoping the joint, I finally put up my photo. And I liked it. More important, they liked it. In the three days since, I have received e-mails from 80 men and have even had a J-argument (cocky little so-and-so). I have no idea why I have proved so popular, other than I have exotic Mediterranean rather than Semitic looks and am abnormally tall for a Jewish girl.

And what do you know? Out of the entire pool of more-than-eligible beleaguered lawyers, producers, upstart MDs, restless hoteliers and other international men of mystery waiting in my inbox, I have somehow been snared by a left-field musician. We talk on messenger. Then on the phone. He is looking for a girl with whom he can, “relax, have fun and build a life together”. I tell him I’ve given up smoking. He tells me that he has, too. I tell him it is hard. He says I need a good Jewish boy to give me lots of kisses, so that I never want to smoke again. I am jumping up and down on my bed, but he can’t see me. This princess is definitely going to have fun finding her mensch.

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