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Match.com? Been there, done that. Online dating is like a full-time night job, and months of after-hours emailing had put bags under my eyes. So, I took a break.

Last summer, I decided to give online dating another chance — but with a Jewish twist. After all, I’ve been rediscovering my Jewish roots, and logging onto JDate seemed like a good way to intermingle my Jewish identity with dating. Maybe a shared cultural background was the ticket to true love?

In addition to this column, I started facilitating my own weekly singles group at the Berkeley Richmond Jewish Community Center, for singles who want to get back on the dating scene. I’ve had a great mix of middle-aged men and women who are eager to meet the love of their lives.

My weekly seminar is a “no-nonsense, interactive group that makes dating fun, safe and successful.” Surely, after more than five years of dating as a single parent, I know plenty of strategies to meet and screen potential life partners. Every week I give out homework, asking, “What are your values?” and “Are you clear about your deal breakers?” And red flags? Don’t get me started.

In the meantime, what about me? I was ready to go back online and find that addiction-free man who loved kids. So JDate, here I come!

The first thing I did on JDate was read its “Mazel Tov” section, scrolling through the hundreds of couples who met here and got married. Could that be me one day? I was a little skeptical.

Still, I went ahead and posted an ad, along with a few photos.

My two best friends — both single Jewish moms — cheered me on.

“You go girl!” Siobhan said. But cautiously added, “I sure wouldn’t put myself out there like that, please be careful.”

“Why Jewish?” Arden wanted to know.

Good question.

Three years ago, when I became a correspondent for j., my aim wasn’t necessarily reconnecting with my Jewish roots. Or even meeting a Jewish man. The problem, as I saw it, was that cousin thing. On paper, Jewish men are usually the perfect match for me. But where’s the spark?

But the deeper I got into the Jewish community here, the more I liked what I saw. I’ve observed the Jewish fathers of my daughter’s friends for four years now at the Berkeley Richmond JCC. They are dependable and they bring home the bacon. They are also thoughtful and intellectually stimulating.

Siobhan told me that I had to look at “the cross section” of a man, not the fact that he was a Jew.

“It seems investment bankers hot to trot on Jdate” aren’t your cup of tea, she told me in an email. “Somewhere, there are some hot Kabbalah spinning, Cajun chicken bakin’ hot lovers — who will also respect and adore you … and preferably not be too broke.”

There’s a problem, however.

You see, some Jewish guys see me as a fraud. That’s because, as I mentioned in a previous column, I was raised by an Irish Catholic mother and a Jewish father. My mom is not Jewish, so some Jewish men don’t really see me as a true Jew.

And what if I’m not Jewish enough?

I don’t go regularly to shul. I can barely recognize one Hebrew letter anymore. What if my daughter doesn’t want to have a bat mitzvah? Am I really up for this?

Still, I dated. And dated.

There was a 46-year-old balding psychologist who analyzed me over dinner. “There’s so much sadness in you,” he told me, when I wasn’t feeling particularly sad, just annoyed.

I met the 41-year-old divorced father of an adolescent daughter who still fights regularly with his ex-wife. Not exactly what I had hoped for. To be fair, they didn’t bug me because they were Jewish. They bugged me because they were irritating.

Don’t get me wrong. Every Jewish man I’ve gone out with has been nice. And attentive. And considerate.

But each man has felt like a relative. Like a cousin. No chemistry.

Besides, after six months, I was exhausted. It wasn’t the Jewish men. It was dating. All the dating had done me in.

Still, at the end of the day, I was not desperate. Despite all the dates, and all the emailing, I love being a mom, even if I am single. When the sun sets, that’s what really matters.