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But if it ever gotten cool, I certainly got there before that time—I was online dating in the year of our Lord 2007, before most people currently alive were even born.I jumped on and off the online- and app-based dating wagon for years, putting in my time on OKCupid, Tinder, Hinge, and Bumble.Being sized up as breeding stock is still not totally normal but, hey, I’m semi-flattered that they’d consider mixing genes with me.One of the great mistakes I think many of my 30-something peers make is assuming that letting their preferred age range dip well into the early-to-mid-20s would be a waste of time.I started out swiping right on dashing 24-year-old guys who do that rowing-boats-as-a-sport thing—because arms and stamina don’t stop being hot just because I remember the first Bush administration—but I didn’t expect anything to come from it.To my surprise, after entirely charming nights of drinks and conversation with dudes whose profile pics from the Homecoming dance were still totally accurate, we'd go back to my house (“You have a whole house? I've come to realize that the problem was never just the immaturity of the men I dated in my 20s, it was the fact that I was dating them while still very immature myself.They may still be congratulating themselves a little too much about giving us grunge and the internet, but the facts are the facts.Their emoji use is versatile and often uses narrative to convey emotions and interests.
What I found instead was a veritable feast of f*ckable dudes who were not only picking up what I was throwing down, but also apparently had learned that the correct way to react to a text message from a woman you’re seeing is to actually answer it in full sentences within a few hours of receiving it. This realization is just one of many genuinely surprising-in-a-good-way discoveries I've made since trying the whole dating thing again, this time as an older and wiser woman in her 30s.
On the topic of raking lawns, it reminds me, naturally, that we are all on a slow and unstoppable march toward death, a fact that we think about more often as we get older.
So as my age range preference has expanded to accommodate more dudes in their mid-to-late 30s, I find that they realize more keenly that they don’t have all the time to “see what happens” and “play the field," and not just because their vision isn’t what it used to be and sports really agitate their increasingly fragile back muscles! And on that note, the imaginary children I’ve been thinking about for decades are finally something that it is fine to talk about.
Today, I can’t find myself especially attracted to someone who can’t pull it together at least enough to have a bed frame and a legitimate lease.
Like, I still hate that capitalism makes all this drudgery necessary, but you don’t see me eating Top Ramen about it.