Where have all the good men gone?

Yesterday I had lunch with an old friend of mine. Kim is 40 something and fabulous. I am trying to get her back into dating like some sort of pushy mother. Today, she shares with us her thoughts on internet dating.

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So a year ago my husband walked out on our marriage and life. This came as quite a shock, only amplified when I learnt a couple of months later that he was not only seeing someone else (alert: there is always someone else) but living with them as well. This person, let’s call her foetus, was 16 years his junior.

Apart from feeling like I was living a cliché I came back time and time again to the question of why on earth would a woman in her late 20s shack up with a married man with four kids. Then I started internet dating.

Guys, it’s a war out there with few victors and a truckload of wounded souls limping along, occasionally buoyed by the appearance of a first aid truck rumbling past.

Sure, vengeful dating was my mindset but I had no idea just how bleak the landscape was. You know those almost pentecostal ads with people looking happy and generally good looking? Forget it. It’s a land of dad bods and guys name Gary who work in IT.

RSVP is the most prolific with “matches” probably because it feels like half of Australia is on it. I am not fussy (I so am fussy) but there are a few deal breakers for me.

If you talk about “my special lady” you’re out. Ditto if you’re “cheeky” (you’re not four). I had a guy who said he was “hygienic” which immediately made me think fungal infection. All of them want someone “thin and athletic”. All.of.them.

Nearly every profile sent to me says they were undecided on having more children. Even men in their 50s. I gather this is something to appeal to all the foetuses looking at their profile.

There’s the guy whose profile read as the nutrition guide on the side of a cereal box, including an “allergy advice” that he contained “HUGE (his capitalisation) hidden bits and traces of big nuts”. He wanted a woman who loved clean sheets and vitally had the “opinion on your dresses and makeup” gene. I don’t even know what that means.

Recently there was the Christian Grey character who knew women wanted a return to a world where the men were strong and told women what to do.

It also seems that every man is now a fit and healthy exercising machine. I’m calling bullshit on that, although maybe that’s why they’re single. All that heading out for a run just as the witching hour hits for the wife and kids has her telling him to be careful the door doesn’t hit him on the arse on his way out.

If it couldn’t get more grim, when you want to contact someone you send them a “kiss”. Like we’re all in fourth grade passing notes to Jeremy Simmons that we really really like him all over again.

I recently heard of someone paying a leading Sydney sex therapist $300 to rework her RSVP profile and embark on a campaign to find her a mate. One of her goals was to be in the Top 100 on the site, a daily popularity list. I know, I’m shaking my head as well.

Look, I get it, it’s awkward for all of us. But I’m putting myself out there, sending kisses *shudder* to guys, even those without profile pictures, only to get rebuffed time and time again. Apparently being a 42 year old woman with four kids is just not that attractive.

So I turned to the pentecostal church of online dating, eHarmony. And then, tumbleweeds. Oh there are plenty of matches, just clearly sent to me by accident. What is more alarming is its clear intention to match me with guys in their 60s. SIXTIES. I’ve had to promise my boys I won’t go out with someone they will confuse with Grandpa. (#ageist)

But I have uploaded photos, I have answered about 1,000 of its extensive questions/surveys, I have sent many a “smile” and yet nothing. I’m starting to feel a little dejected about the whole thing.

Then there are the oddly awkward moments when you see RSVP people over there. Monogamy is dead!

I’m rounding out my experience by recently joining Elite Singles, because everything about me screams elite *picks crumbs from cleavage*. We’ll see what delights it will throw up, I just saw a profile for a buddhist money broker so it is looking good!

Onward.

Where have all the good men gone?

Where did you find yours?