Age Matters

A friend asked me this week what the biggest deterrent of dating online was for me. She is about to join the world of cyber dating, and has the tactic that forewarned is fore-armed.

I cannot lie – the range of put-offs I could mention is extensive. But most fall into the category of false advertising: the profile photo that was taken at least 15 years and 15 kilograms before the date; the guys who tell you they have to leave the date after 10 minutes because their mother is sick, only to mysteriously pop up on the dating site 20 minutes later without bothering to hide their profiles first; the guy who writes that he has brown hair but fails to mention that the last time he could prove that statement and discern his hair color was a decade previously. The liberties people take with their profiles are so wide-ranging they warrant a blog entry all of their own.

But pressed to come up with the number one offender in the cyber-dating arena, I had to focus on the primary disincentive of all time – failure to respect the age gap.

Now don't get me wrong – age gaps are problematic both ways. I have friends who deliberately advertise the wrong age on websites to ensure that a younger crowd get access to their profiles, and there are a few who never actually reveal the few years that were shaved off their 'sheet' when they meet the unsuspecting prospects in person. I have never been one of those people, and while I never put in too much detail on my dating profiles, what I did insert was accurate.

While age was never a major issue for me one way or another, there is a limit to the age gap that I think one should respect. One thing I learned early on was to listen to my instincts as far as age is concerned. For example, when I thought a guy was too young for me, he WAS too young for me. I learned this the hard way...

I met a man (and I use that term very loosely) through the web who was more than 5 years younger than me chronologically, and at least 15 emotionally. While I expressed reticence about dating someone who could easily be my baby brother, I admit to having had just a little curiosity as well. And when he insisted on meeting me despite the concerns I expressed, I obviously couldn't help but feel flattered by the insistence and attentions of someone who was still in his twenties. However, my curiosity was piqued for all of a minute after we met, following which I literally watched myself transform in his eyes from sex kitten into the equivalent of a predatory grimalkin. While in theory an 'older woman' obviously sounded appealing to this kid, in practice he was distinctly, palpably, uncomfortable. The date was so short it would have taken him more time to blow out the candles on his next birthday cake!

But putting off youngsters is not something I have ever had to deal with on a regular basis. Their fathers? Now that's a different story. Perhaps the font size on the web is too small for older men to see the 'what age group I'm in' area, or perhaps due to their accumulated life experience they just think they know what we need more than we do. But I want to state this for the record: I am not a care-giving society for the geriatric single.

When I was in my early thirties and dating up a storm via the internet, on any given day I was guaranteed to hear from a representative of the elderly. In fact, so many post-50s contacted me I felt like changing my profile to read as follows:

If you think you are too old for me, you ARE too old for me! This is a simple equation, gentlemen. If you and my parents could have gone to kindergarten together, you are too old for me. If you asked one of your kids to teach you to surf the Web in order to join a dating site, you ARE too old. And if I specify that I am looking for a man between 35 and 40 on my dating profile, and you are between 55 and 60…you guessed it…you ARE too old for me.

So, if you think I'm cute, you're close to 70, and you see potential in me that you'd hate to overlook - I recommend you fix me up with one of your age-appropriate children.