The special dating life of a female in her mid-to-late twenties.
I'm going to say the thing everyone knows and no one wants to admit: Dating sucks. It sucks big ol' donkey dick. Online dating particularly sucks the biggest of dicks. Being a single person in the age of millennials is a rather unfortunate case because we want it all - and no one settles for less than perfection. Why settle for a decent man, whose imperfections include not embracing brunch with your matched enthusiasm, when you can open your phone and swipe right for a reeeal man? Dating is too easy. If you disappoint me, I’ve already found three other potential dates for this weekend before I even confront you through a text message about about why I’m displeased. I think Jay-Z wrote my dating anthem (link here https://vimeo.com/74044121).
However, that’s not altogether why my dating life makes me want to do something as ghastly as jumping off the bridge or joining the Peace Corps. The real reason, the honest culprit, is that sinking depression you feel after every failed dating attempt. When you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, staring into a blank wall and becoming engrossed in the feeling that you’ll never be completely happy with anyone. How many times has this happened? And has it happened enough times to maybe think something is actually wrong...with me? How does one even begin to deal with that.
We, as single adults, put so much energy into the feeble attempt of dating. We worry over our text messages, over how and where we will meet up for the first time. Meeting up for a drink is so easy, but is it too cliche? I want to be different, to stand out. No one wants to be the usual Friday night date. When we get married and have kids our story has to be more romantic than waiting awkwardly at the local Ale House bar for the other to show. The two of us ease nerves over a few beers and decent conversation (aka do we watch the same Netflix shows). If we both leave with smiles on our faces the epic journey begins. You make plans to see more of each other, they become your texting priority, you start having sex, then you get the privilege of meeting a couple of their friends. All this time I’m carefully rotating my panties so I don't wear the same ones too often when we see each other, and making sure my fridge is stocked with beer and simple breakfast ingredients. See how hard I’m trying, dammit?
Then...something happens. Your expectations are high and they do something to disappoint you. The “something” is always different, but it invariably follows the same path to finding out who they really are. One day, an exhilarating week and a half into a blooming relationship, you find yourself standing in the kitchen with an apron on and an elaborate planned meal to impress him with. This guy who you thought was someone special stands you up because he got drunk with his buddies and stops responding to your “what time are you coming?” texts. When you talk about it later he confesses his impression that two of you were “just hooking up.” As if that were already understood.
I’m twenty-six years old, and I’m going to explain why I stopped dating guys my own age. The men of my age are at a special time in their lives. They’ve recently gotten out of their first serious relationship or two, so they’ve learned how to act in a relationship. They now enjoy cuddling, wine, and how to caress your skin in a way that makes you think they feel a connection. Hell, maybe they even enjoy cooking and clean their bathroom on a regular basis - talk about swooning, amiright? They’re starting to do well in their careers and have disposable income. Here is where things get messy. There is a very unfortunate type of confidence about a man in his mid twenties. He appears to be doing well in life and knows how to treat a woman, but he is not ready for that. They’re not ready for a real relationship and they don’t know what they want. If you’re just looking for sex, hey, no shame in that. I’ve been there and I am in no way judging...but I’m too old to be playing games so you need to tell me that. Hell, we might even have some fun together, but don’t you dare woo me with actually getting to know me and learning my interests. Don’t hold and embrace me like you care. That shit right there is what fucks me up. Acting in a way that suggests you want a relationship but not actually wanting one. This problem has done some substantial damage to my psyche. It’s enough of a problem that I have to force myself to take dating hiatuses because after so many rollercoaster dating experiences I become bitter and afraid.
In conclusion, to remedy the problem of dating men my own age, my preferred dating range is now 29-33.
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