Megan, 24: Less Than 1 Mile

Single foxes, let’s talk. Here I am, a solid four months out from my darker days and I’m beginning to date. I feel like it’s the right time. I just began an amazing 9-5, Zach and I have figured out a really great rhythm with our parenting, and I feel emotionally available.  But as we all know too well, nothing good in life comes easy--and navigating the dating scene in 2014 is no different. As a woman who seldom meets men--I work with [almost] exclusively women, I’m not one to frequent bars, I run alone--I’ve turned to online dating, Tinder to be specific. While I think that the stigma of online dating is dated itself, it’s still something I don’t have a lot of faith in. My experience thus far has been mixed at best. Some dudes have overtly asked for sexual favors, while others have been sweet, but the whole operation just makes me anxious.

One night as I was “swiping left” left and right, I asked myself, “oh my god, why are there so many losers on my feed?” And then a panic washed over me. I had the scariest epiphany any single girl on Tinder could probably have. What if there are so many losers on my feed because ALL THE GOOD [single] MEN HAVE SWIPED LEFT ON ME? It hit me like a truck. While I haven’t actively used Tinder until a few weeks ago, I’ve had an account for probably close to a year; so all the eligible men in my vicinity have most likely already had a chance to see my profile. Now I don’t want to come off like a bitch, but I am sorry- I know that I deserve more than Douglas, 55, who is older than my own father, or Master, 29, a portly, bald fellow donning a top hat in his mother’s bathroom.

It gets worse. The thought snowballed into a much broader assessment of the current dating climate in Minneapolis. I’m sincerely concerned that all the good ones are taken, because why shouldn’t they be? In Minneapolis, there’s a disproportionate ratio of eligible women to men.  It’s mathematically understandable that the single men in my age bracket are one of the following: undesirable, desirable but not interested in dating, or desirable but not interested in dating me. Here’s where it gets tricky. To people that I’ve shared my fears with, they’ve all said relatively the same thing: that’s not true! The right person is out there! Historically, that may have been the case. But something that needs to be accounted for is the technological advancements that have singlehandedly changed the dating landscape from what it once was. Nobody really knows if that rhetoric holds true still for where we are today. Similar to the fact that there are very few hidden treasures left of anything thanks to the internet, ie: stores, restaurants, music, etc.- I’ve come to think that there aren’t hidden treasures of men left anymore either. They’ve already been Match-ed, or Tinder-ed ,or they’ve found their lovers conventionally. In the olden days, the good men who were single for whatever reason may have stayed single and hidden, now they’ve got all these technological platforms to take themselves off the market- leaving us single women in a precarious position.

Now, I’m not saying all is lost. I’m just saying that there is a much smaller margin for which those good men who re-enter the single dating pool will remain single. I know that there are good men out there, but the numbers are much smaller than I think we want to believe. Despite my threats to various people, I am not going to go buy a bunch of cats and really lean in to spinsterhood. My apartment doesn’t allow cats, anyways. I think people refer to that as “divine intervention,” but either way, I’m going to keep fighting the good fight. Even if we’re looking at lottery chances for finding a good man, someone has to win, right? Lone foxes, what do you think about the dating scene? Do you think the internet has made it easier or harder on your dating life? What do you do to avoid becoming bitter as all hell? LET ME KNOW, LADIES. Let me know. 

Babe Lincoln, out.