The Young & the Restless: Summer Edition

On my way to one of the Summer of 2025 dates. Look at that optimism!

I dipped my toes back into the dating pool this summer, on Bumble this time.  

Let me just state for the record, the water is NOT fine. It's still pretty murky and foul out there.

But, for all our benefit, I’m sharing a quick update and a couple of funny stories and encounters of a bizarre kind again. Let’s all collectively laugh and shake our heads and continue to ask that eternal question, “Where have all the good men gone?”

Clearly, not to the dating apps.

I did meet a pedigreed specimen - Harvard Law, good talker, smart and not a narcissist. Table stakes.

Unfortunately, though, he arrived to our date in a nasty ballpark cap which made it difficult to assess the hair situation under there. The rest of the ensemble included high-water pants with a large belt around his rib cage to hold them up so that I could get a really good view of the skinny ankles and weird socks which I assumed he thought was a fashion statement?

Maybe I missed this summer trend. 

I have been very distracted and distressed this summer watching the demise of Democracy and have lost sight of the summer fashion scene. One has to focus on priorities I suppose, and fashion has taken a back seat for now.

Anyway, I might have been able to overlook the attire, but the man literally drooped. His head lingered at a 45-degree angle to his shoulders and I just couldn’t figure this out. Was this a cute and adorable feature or early onset osteoporosis?   

Life is short and I just don’t feel I have enough time left to uncover this mystery.

I am being mean. 

I feel ashamed and judgmental. 

I can only imagine what he thought of me, though he thought we vibed and wanted to see me again.  

It’s hard to reject someone in-person. Ghosting becomes more understandable, even if cowardly, when faced with confronting someone in-person and watch their reaction go from hope, to resignment, and then quick extraction.

I know this from personal experience.

It sucks.

Harvard was sent back to the pool and a few others were entertained and then Turkish Delight, TD, appeared. TD was a massive love-bomber from Istanbul who told me before we met that he met “the one” (that would be me) and removed his Bumble profile.

Please. Don’t. Really.

Get that thing back up there ASAP.

The love-bombing felt like I was in downtown Beirut on Valentine’s Day. Every encounter was over the top, even after I told him that I, and most American women, don’t respond well to this approach. 

He was not deterred. 

This feedback not only seemed to confuse him but also encouraged more intense love-bombing because who doesn’t like a little Turkish Delight?

I did admire his tenacity and indominable spirit, refusing to accept a ‘no’ and proving that Constantine the Great may have actually set the Turks up for success for centuries to come.   

Meanwhile though, back here in good old ‘Merica, it was evident that the rule of three no’s applied to Mr. Delight. 

TD: “I want to come to your house and make you Turkish coffee.”

ME: “Uh, no.”

TD: “What, you don’t like coffee?  I make the best coffee. You will love it.  I will be good.”

The fact that he had to tell me he would be good told me he had no intention of drinking coffee at my house and that he would be anything but well-behaved.

ME: “No, that’s not going to happen.”

TD: “What, you don’t have coffee at your house?”

ME: “No I don’t have coffee.”

TD: “Oh, okay.”

I’m thinking this behavior would get very old, very quickly.

What wasn’t going to age was Turkish Delight himself because he was 18 years younger than me.

Gasp.

I have told my children for years to “make good choices.”  This is clearly an example of me not making a ‘good’ choice.

In all honesty though, my ego is omnipresent and I toggled between feeling incredibly ashamed coupled with a strong impulse to shout out, "yeah mamma!”

At our first date I asked him directly, “Do you know how old I am?”

He was quick to answer.

“Of course I do darling, you are 18 years older than me. You are so beautiful."

When did my life take such a deep dive into ‘bad choices?'  What was I doing here?

Apparently, the age difference was not a problem for him. Or so he said.

It became clear this man will say just about anything to get me to bed. 

I, on the other hand, am hoping that the Botox is working while I sit-up straight, suck in my gut and cheeks, and hide behind big sunglasses while saying a silent prayer to God that I don’t run into anyone I know.

He is cute though.  Funny, attentive - certainly interesting. In my twisted mind with flawed thinking, I’m telling myself he doesn’t actually look 18 years younger. 

Clearly, I have a rich and full fantasy life running my frontal cortex now.

I am simultaneously weighing the alternatives here, contemplating continuing on with this man.

Was I this generation’s Mrs. Robinson or a straight-up cougar? 

I turned to ChatGPT, the oracle of all relationship advice in cyberspace now, and ran a quick search to understand “intergenerational dating” (such a polite turn of phrase for this phenomena) or am I just in some post- menopausal brain fog moment and lost my moral compass? 

Funny how so many opposing things can all be simultaneously true.

And, yes, this is a thing.

“Dear ChatGPT, what is the science behind women in their 60s who date younger men and how young is too young?”

An instant comprehensive answer appeared in seconds because my intimate, private life issues are now part of an algorithm.

In short it said that younger men like the confidence, emotional intelligence and the maturity of older women, citing the changing gender roles - thank you women’s movement. There are mutual benefits like freedom from traditional expectations of building or starting a family and for women, vitality, spontaneity and physical attraction.

All good information and plausible. A true mindset shift will need to occur but I’m open to the idea.

As to the scary second question, how young is too young?..... 

It said, “the half-your-age-plus-7 rule.”

What? There is a rule? How did I not know this? 

To think I’ve wasted countless hours culling through men my age.

Quick girl math calculation puts me at 44.

I don’t remember 44.

Do any of you?  Well, probably some of you do but it seems so long ago that the two 4s were next to each other pointing in the same direction. 

As I explore the concept of dating younger, I consulted many of my wise and more experienced women friends who have tried-on a ‘lower age.’ 

They tell me another rule of thumb in this area is to not date someone whose mother is younger than me. 

Solid advice.  

However, that calculation will require a lot of girl math to figure out and I am feeling it’s beyond my ability at this point in life.

Then of course, reality began to emerge as I think about the ages of my children and stepchildren, who are in their 30s and 40s, and this began to get creepy. 

Still, my lived experience has been the pool of men my age has been less than fruitful.  The ones I’ve met are un-fun and want women who share their interests like fishing and TV watching.

I’m not really into either sport these days.

And yes, a gross generalization, I’ve been told that these men are really looking for a nurse or a purse.

I’m not interested in providing either service.

But as I contemplate the virtues of men who are younger than me, I did take a moment to acknowledge that men have been doing this for years. Do they know something women have overlooked?

In fact, I was seven years younger than my late husband.

At the time, I wondered if he was “too old” for me, but we met in our younger years and that age gap was not apparent at the time.

So, here’s where I’ve landed on this matter.

While men may have been doing this for years, sisters, it’s our turn now. 

Heck yes, if they’ll have me, I think I’m in.

Under no circumstance am I going to date a 44-year-old but I’ve met a few 50-year-olds and upwards.  And then there’s Turkish Delight coming in at 47 which I’m happy to report is no longer in the rotation.

Why not?

Maybe it’s just a curiosity for both parties in this scenario?

What does a 60-something woman look and act like, and what does a 50-something have to offer? Is this simply an ego-boost for my tired dating self who found little interest in most of the people I’ve met?

Maybe.

Of course, it would be amazing to meet someone my age who I find attractive and interesting, but meanwhile, here I find myself…

If nothing else it might be a way for me to counter the current trend of “Heterofatalism” coined by a University of Penn academic Asa Seresin which describes how women are fed up with the mating behavior of men who can’t commit or maintain a relationship.

But mostly for me, the internet sensation, @justbeingmelani, Melani Sanders,” has summed up my thoughts beautifully.

We do not care anymore.

Thoughts? Feelings? Criticisms? Atta girl? Send me a note.

Peace out everyone. Hope you’re having a great summer.

Xo,

Claire