Dating in your fourties
How dare they reject me before I could reject them! Whether they were the ancient ads I helped beta test as an intern or the old standby OKCupid, I'd invest time and energy into meeting men I wouldn't otherwise come across in my day-to-day life (read: freelancing at home, usually pantless).
There was the ex who brutally dumped me but wouldn't stop emailing me for months, whose presence at dorky work gatherings made me dizzy; the sociopathic film critic whose shoulder I virtually cried on; the go-nowhere first dates; and the great, wide swaths of time spent single, usually pining after some unavailable director or writer who'd relish my attention and nothing else. There were a few things that sent me into a panic about turning 40, but the biggest — looming larger than the golden ring of a book deal or a staff job or, like, finally going back to yoga — was what it meant for me to still be single and actively looking for a partner at that age. If you're not familiar with the exciting world of online dating, sites and apps let you set search parameters that range from location to body type to education and, yes, age range.Not so much even that I was single, but that I and what that implied. There are plenty of things I simply do not give a single solitary fuck about when it comes to what women my age are supposed to be doing. Just as there are movies on Netflix you might never stumble across in your bleary-eyed scrolling, there are plenty of people you might never see through some whim of programming code.Moreover, there's the human factor; it's much easier to reject someone arbitrarily than it is to make an exception. If single 30- and 40-something men are either still out at the club keeping the Pussy Posse alive or tending to their sudden desire for a more “meaningful” existence by settling down with women who are younger, where does that leave all the “really good” grown ass single women* who, FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING GOD, just want to be treated like human beings and not costars the universe provides to enhance the stages of too many men’s glacially-paced journey towards understanding that life is more meaningful when you actually give a shit? Allow me to ask the question the piece goes out of its way to leave unacknowledged: What about straight single women over 35 who are seeking commitment and maybe even a family?And no, I have not had my teeth whitened or vagina tightened.
I’m quite fat, in early-onset menopause, with a scruffy house, loads of dependents and sod all cash.
Some you’ve heard of, others you haven’t, and one of them will even offer you the opportunity to date a Victoria’s Secret model.
(Hey, to echo Lloyd Christmas, there’s referred to it as the “Soho House of dating apps”—but if you can manage to get an invite, we say go for it.
Go for Raya.) If you go this route, prepare to be Googled and judged.
Making it past their screening process is no easy feat (unless you happen to be a minor celeb, you’re going to need some luck! But before you thumb your nose at it, it’s worth noting that if you’ve got a hobby that you really care about in your 40s—such as staying really fit, which we wholeheartedly encourage—it’s a terrific way to meet a compatible, like-minded person.
Let us instead examine the notion of the over-forties dating scrapheap, and how it applies only to ladies — you may have seen the Amy Schumer sketch Last Fuckable Day. As forty-something women, we are told how our erotic capital is somewhere between badly overdrawn and bankrupt — unless we take the following steps to make ourselves more dateworthy: Teeth whitening, bosom restructuring, forehead Botoxing, lips filling, face contouring, vagina tightening, body sculpting, nail and lash extending, wardrobe overhauling, diet restricting to include only chia and kale. Bottom feeders, hoping for any leftovers that the fresh faced, lissom twenty and thirty-something goddesses haven’t entirely devoured.