Between the lines.
Let’s make sure we’re on the same page about:
“Seeking, sweet, smart, sexy, spontaneous, sensual, spiritual, supportive, slightly sassy/sarcastic, and subservient- 🤣!”
The way to win me over is:
“Give me enough security”
I’d fall for you if:
“You are easygoing and don’t take yourself too seriously.”
These were the standouts from this morning’s five minute session on a dating app. Thankfully, I’ve been at this a few years and I don’t get derailed anymore.
Reading these profiles makes me want to pull my hair out and scream, “are you f*#>ing kidding me???” Other than illustrating an obvious mastery of alliteration, are these men (all of whom are post 50 and ostensibly should know better) serious? Are they unaware of the (not so subtle) subtextual clues their responses provide? Or are they actually okay with coming off as insecure, immature, and ignorant? While honesty is always appreciated, these responses tell me instantly we will never in a million years match. I continue to marvel at the pint-sized effort on display every time I dare to swipe.
A caveat here… I don’t know if the majority of women’s profiles are as lacking or uninspiring. What I do know is that my friends and I, women in the 40-60 year bracket, take great pains to craft precise profiles, carefully selecting our words. Each choice is designed to evoke parts of ourselves, give subtextual clues, and that’s how we read men’s profiles, between the lines. Unfortunately, this effort is largely wasted. Tinder research shows men swipe right three times more than women, it’s doubtful any reading is going on.
In my age range, unless I list pole dancing as a hobby and am willing to jump in bed with the first responder, I don’t have a shot in hell. Most hetero men in my age bracket seem to desire fresh, fun, flirty and they have no qualms spanning the generations. Or alternately, they want someone to take care of them. Even if I could get past all the fish trophies and shirtless gym shots, beyond phrases like, “looking for a lady who can rock flip flops and high heels," and find a reasonable match, there’s a high likelihood that he’ll prefer texting endlessly to meeting in the flesh, or will ghost me once he realizes I’m an actual three-dimensional women. The irony with online dating is that you have to grow a very thick skin, not take anything personally, and expect nothing in order to survive – just at a time when you should be practicing your vulnerability.
A recent New York Times piece by Maggie Jones, “Online Dating After 50 Can Be Miserable. But It’s Also Liberating” was cathartic. Men’s penchant for posting weird photos has been mocked endlessly but I find choice of words in dating profiles to be as painful. Jones notes how their profiles are often littered with clichés. “Looking for a partner in crime. I will make you laugh. I live life to the fullest.” I’ve read these trite assertions so many times they don’t even register anymore. The thing is, regardless of gender, how a person writes a profile, the care and consideration or lack thereof, is incredibly revealing. The choice of words, or lack thereof by way of too many emojis, provides so much personal insight. A simple five word response can scream, sarcastic, defensive, misogynistic, vapid, or alternately, thoughtful, intelligent, creative, and sincere.
“Are you enjoying the App?” Bumble asks me time to time. NO, I always respond but still I’m caught between a rock and a hard place – there are few dating alternatives out there, especially for those of us over fifty. So, I continue to swipe occasionally, always slowly and methodically. I know I’m looking for a needle in a haystack, but I just wish it didn’t have to be so damn painful.