The Fun Of 50+ Dating

So about 4 1/2 months ago my ex-fiancé and partner of nearly 6 years promptly informed me our relationship was over. It had been a shit show almost from the beginning but there was something there, at least for me, that was worth the fight to try and make it work. This was, it turns out, a one sided fight for us.

Now I’m 6 years older and a little worse for wear, a little less caring, a little more cynical and a whole hell of a lot more over anything that interferes with the peace I am now trying to enjoy while I rebuild my life. Despite my misgivings about the whole thing I decided it’s time to at least see what’s out there in the way of potential partners, why….I don’t know.

I signed up for a couple of dating sites and almost immediately I was bombarded with messages like “Hey beautiful, your smile should be on billboards”. Well thank you, so kind but really….this is how you want to start a conversation with a grown ass women? Does this kind of shallow BS really work? Not for me! Never being one to be the prey, I decided why don’t I do the hunting and look at some profiles and start a conversation. That’s a very progressive thing to do. An hour and at least 200 profiles later my eyes were burning and I still hadn’t read one single profile or seen one single picture of a man in my age group that didn’t make me want to remain single forever or possibly even bat for the other team and start looking up women.

50+ suddenly got very old and not in a good way. Some of my friends said “well, go younger” and although younger definitely excels in having all their own teeth, hair and standing upright in clothes that don’t look like something my father owned in the 70’s, I don’t need another child or pre-mid life crises waiting to happen.

All in all I have been on two dates. The first spent the evening talking about a previous heartbreak and the second informed me he had been off work for a few months to deal with a family matter. As empathetic as I am, and I really am, all I could think was put on your big boy pants princesses, pick up the pieces of your broken heart and crawl your ass back to work and seriously deal with your shit on your own time.

It seems this will be an ongoing process and one that feels more like work without pay then the adventure it once was when men my age wanting babies was sweet and not creepy as hell!