I don’t really have much dating experience as of late, which would make sense since I’ve been married for a while, and all.
However, in taking stock in what the hell is out there, I’ve come to a few wickedly scary conclusions…
As a woman going through a divorce, I have talked, viewed, and speculated to now present to you why dating is scary post-30.
Online dating profiles scream desperate. This isn’t just women. This is men.
“I want to offer you romance and kids, and the whole world!”
“I’m great guy, really? See the photo of me with my cats and nephews/nieces?”
People are afraid of being alone (me too), but in that, this fear creates this scary intensity of– “TAKE ME! I’m yours!”
Back off. You are scaring me and everyone around you.
If you thought an ex-girlfriend was a powerful tool, wait until you deal with an ex-wife or husband, which is potentially likely to happen after you hit 30, or really, 35.
That scares me, although I am sure I will be a lovely ex-wife. Wink
Do You Want Babies?
Babies, babies, and more babies. Older men want babies. Everyone wants a baby or doesn’t want a baby. It was all so much easier when you picked someone who looked cute, liked the same music you did, and banged well, wasn’t it?
Someone told me it’s good I divorced before 40 as men won’t want me as much after I hit 40.
That’s um, pretty shitty. Is it true? I don’t know.
But as it seems, older men like younger women, younger men like older women, and everyone else just masturbates. Like me.
Baggage Like A Rock Star’s
All of a sudden the deep issues come out: the drinking problems, ex-husband’s/wives, abusive scenarios, eating disorders, bankruptcy and other money issues, health stuff, you name it.
In my twenties, the biggest issue was: how far do you live from my apartment, can we have a discussion,and are you sexy?
In marriage it was, a whole ‘nother scenario.
Now? I had some crazy man try to hug me in the middle of Manhattan, another dude hover over me like a spaceship, a 50-something dude try to molest me at a coffeehouse…it’s enough to make me consider locking myself at home and ask my soon to be ex, “Are you sure?”
I’ve already asked him that and he keeps saying yes. Since I can’t chain him up and force him to stay, I am moving albeit, not towards these creepos.
The older we get, the more stuff we collect. I can only imagine what it might be like to blend two households together over age 30.
Watch out, hoarders!
Moral of the story:
Maybe arranged marriage isn’t so bad.
Or, there’s always celibacy and masturbation.Or slow death.