Finding a Date Over Age 50 Involves More Work Now
And it’s not what you might think.
Do women over age 50 have trouble finding a date because we’re too old? I know it’s BS, but the media can make us seem undesirable after a certain age. After spending my 40s and then some without a partner, I was beginning to doubt my ability to find a mate at my age and stage of life.
Is dating different for us older women and femmes? Do we need to shift to a new approach? Are we too picky? Do we stop noticing when people are into us? Or are there not as many people interested?
I’ve pondered these questions for months. I’ve been observing myself and others when we interact. I can’t feel the zing with anyone lately, either. I’ve had zero chemistry with most people. It’s rather strange.
I’ve reflected on how I present myself. Maybe I’m signaling that I’m gay because of my lesbian haircut. Maybe there are a lot of exclusive couples in my town. Or they think I’m married or coupled since I have kids. But when I go out into the community, I give off that open vibe. At least that’s my intention.
I routinely walk in our neighborhood with a kick-ass playlist to get me moving. I bring out the sass, grooving to the beat and feeling sexy AF. I exude sex appeal, and I know it.
I’ve always looked younger than my age, and still have a smokin’ hot bod after birthing two babies. I won the genetic lottery when it comes to my figure and my eyes. I know I’m still physically attractive, but I’m starting to see signs of getting older after turning 50 in January 2022. I’ve been curious about dating game changes since then.
It’s not just about looks, but I do notice that I don’t catch eyes the way I used to. I can’t flash a demure smile and sashay my hips to get attention anymore. I can’t always hold someone’s attention when I use creative language to flirt. I mean, do they even notice I’m flirting? Am I that old, according to society? Or do they assume I’m not single because I’m a parent?
I share all over the internet about being a single, polyamorous mom. I’m pansexual, and open to dating a person of any gender variation. Do men think I’m a lesbian, and women think I’m straight? What’s going on here? Have I lost my game?
I don’t think so. There is one obvious reason, and another not so much.
First, I think I’ve been in denial about how society and men in particular view older women. It’s not me, it’s you. I get the message that I need to step up my game if I want someone to take notice. I might as well get really obvious about it, right? I’ll need to spell it out for you.
I’ve always been a savvy conversationalist, and believe I’m an interesting person. I’m mature enough to ask the right questions and make observations. I sense when we have a vibe and when we don’t.
If I know I’m a catch and good at meeting new people, why have I been single so long? That not-so-obvious reason came to me on a long walk in the forest. Suddenly, it all made sense.
I’m not in a dry spell because I’m old. It’s because I won’t settle for a lukewarm connection with someone I’m only sort of into, or a romp in the sheets and a never see you again.
I want a deep, sustained connection with a life partner. I won’t find that with just anyone. I usually know right away if we have chemistry and something deeper. I know the feeling well, and it’s been rare.
I want a rare gem of a human who matches and coincides with me. Maybe it’s because I’ve had that before or because I decided to have babies with someone with whom I don’t have that. But I refuse to settle anymore.
No wonder I’ve been alone for seven years. I know what turns me on and melts my heart. I know who checks all of my boxes (and who doesn’t). I won’t go out with someone who’s only partially satisfying. And there aren’t a lot of people who do that for each other.
If you’re a middle-aged woman seeking a lifelong companion, would you waste your time on half measures? If you have to work harder at finding a date, maybe it’s because you’re not willing to settle for second best. And you deserve the best.
I struck up a friendship with my neighbor’s house guest a couple of weeks ago. His life is in transition, so he doesn’t seem ready for a relationship. As sweet as it’s been to get acquainted, I don’t think I need to entertain thoughts of us being a thing.
It’s worth mentioning him if only to remember that my small consideration of us together needs to be disregarded as soon as possible. I can feel myself trying to make him something he probably isn’t. I’ll have to nip that in the bud right now.
I approach potential relationships differently than before, and he isn’t the best match for me. We made a connection but haven’t had chemistry between us, at least at the time of this writing. I want to feel a zing. That’s how I know if we could be something. I know from experience that chemistry is crucial.
To illustrate my ever-changing romantic landscape, here’s an update on my neighbor friend. After writing here that we shouldn’t be a thing, I thought of him all day. Thank you, Universe, for testing me.
But still, I know if something feels right, right? I’ll report back if anything changes, but for now I’ll put my ideas on pause. A “maybe someday” isn’t a “yes”.
I’ve had time to mature and improve parts of myself that need healing and change. Now I’m ready to find a partner who’s doing the same and can appreciate that.
Older women know what we want in a relationship and who does it for us. No sense in wasting our time on anyone else. Yes, we might have to work harder to find a mate when we’re older. But it’s worth the effort for the right match, instead of swiping left on hundreds of “no”s.
Rather than working harder for attention, we need only respect our need for a loving, fulfilling relationship and focus our attention there.
Related reads:
For more of my stories, check out my home page by clicking here or on my cute photo above.
Join the Medium Partner Program for ad-free unlimited reads at only $5/month. Click here to use my referral link and I’ll receive a percentage. You can also find me on Facebook, Twitter, and LinkedIn. Thanks for reading.
