An article on Sunday in the New York Times profiled an empty-nester who got divorced after her kids went away to college, tried dating, but discovered the sad state of affairs out there in the dating world for the older woman.
“I don’t bump into eligible men my age,” she said. “They’re nowhere. Not in church, not in restaurants, not walking the dog. We’re not in college anymore with an unlimited supply of men our age.”
The article goes on to state that 41% of women over 50 are remarried, where almost 60% of men are.
And if that wasn’t enough:
“And if she’s tall on top of that,” Dr. Adler-Baeder said, “the pool’s even smaller.”
Great. I’m 5’10.”
I know I shouldn’t be looking at statistics. But in a weird way its like vindication that maybe, just maybe I am not crazy, wondering if there is something wrong with me due to my apparent inability to connect with men. I have lost my impetus to date for the moment, the online thing just doesn’t do it for me these days. And so I am once again left with the question of how to meet men. And not just any men, but ones that I might actually be interested in meeting or who might actually be interested in meeting me. There is something to the “Seattle Freeze,” a sort of apathy in people that seems to get in the way of people in Seattle connecting in a meaningful way.
With all these marks against me, how do I beat the odds?
Today, I went to an athletic club called ZUM. I am going to try it out and I might just join. I love my pilates classes, but I take classes at 9:30am, when all the other stay-at-home mom’s take them. I will try a couple of ZUM’s noon classes and see how it goes. Even at 2pm, there were a couple of non-gay looking hotties skipping rope (in a very masculine way) who actually smiled at me.
I am also going to take another writing class. I know, I know, why would a published author take a writing class? Well, as a novice writer I still have a ton to learn. Plus, I want to try writing fiction and feel pretty clueless. I need to get back into the writing groove and the motivation of a class, where each week an assignment is due, works for me. The added bonus? There might be an honest-to-goodness man in the class.
I do still need to check out those rowing classes again.
I may never have another romance, but hopefully I’ll do some kick-ass writing and be fit as hell.