May 24, 2019
Average 35-year-old woman.
An old woman writes about her sepulchral old woman experience on the internet trying to make sense of the fact that no man seems to be interested in forming a family with her.
Time doesn’t care. Her chance has already passed.
My girlfriends and I sit around our favorite Brooklyn restaurant, red wine flowing, lights dim. We’re all in our late thirties, have jobs we love, friendships we cherish, passions that keep us up at night.
And we are all single.
It’s not news that New York is a terrible dating scene for straight women. My girlfriends and I have been enduring bad dates for years. At one point we coordinated a weekly meeting to review a Google spreadsheet of our collective dates so none of us had to make the same mistake twice. A crummy dating scene for women is par for the getting-older course.
But now the stakes feel higher. In a few years we won’t be able to have children, at least not naturally. This has always been a distant reality, a problem saved for later. Pregnancy is so ingrained in our image of the female experience we rarely think to question it. But now the time has come, it seems. Like a particularly challenging Escape Room, we have to act quick.
Love finds you when you stop looking for it, is a ridiculous thing my mom used to tell me until I got angry enough to make her stop. When I’m not looking for love I’m exhausted on my couch after work, binging on Netflix, curled up in bed reading a book, or still at work. When I’m at work I’m working. I am not particularly attractive when I’m working. Actually, at this point in my career, I make an active effort not to look attractive, lest some creep makes an inappropriate move and I have to spend my mental energy dealing with it. When I go out I’m with friends who have grown to be like family, talking over cozy dinners, not falling over casual acquaintances ready to pick each other up at the first sign of a smile, like the parties I frequented in my twenties.
That attitude will definitely help her connect with men more.
By the way, she’s not attractive even when not working.
She’s an expired rodentkin.
Women in their thirties, especially the busy ones, have to make an effort.
The desire for kids (no matter how complicated and uncertain that desire may be) makes us put in the effort. And so I re-download the apps, a pit of dread rising in my stomach. I assign a certain number of nights per week to the task. Like starting an exercise routine in the new year, it takes resolution. More of a chore than a choice.
I am dating right now because I’m on a timeline. If I want to have children, I have to. The sentiment that makes the modern, urban man run. The opposite of “chill.”
What makes modern men run is old women desperate to have a baby.
How many men would run if the following girl begged them to turn her into a mother and form a family with her?
I cringe at myself. It’s disgustingly unromantic. I’m the woman I made fun of in my twenties, early thirties, even. I thought women with an agenda were, dare I say it, crazy. But unless you can afford IVF or raising a child alone, both of which are prohibitively expensive for most women, the pressure to search for a partner is real. I often imagine if men were in this position, faced with losing their ability to procreate. There’s no question they’d have both an agenda and a timeline. And we’d probably praise them for their ambition.
To find someone you connect with when you don’t hate being alone is hard. To find that person and also have all the practicalities of starting a life together — their age, location, desire for children — match up just right so it can all come together in a few short years, is miracle-making.
The question floats around the table: At what point do we sacrifice romance for fertility?
She already sacrificed both romance and fertility back when she decided to waste her youth whoring around, that old hag. There’s no coming back. There’s no second chance for her.
The situation these old women are in is quite sad. They wonder why they can’t seem to find a man they like that also likes them back, oblivious to the fact that they’re not worth shit anymore.
Decrepit women are worthless. Their only chance at not being worthless was becoming mothers, and they failed.
The men who these old witches would like to form a family with are just not interested in them — in fact, these women are invisible to quality men. Why would a man that wants to start a family choose any of these rotten wombs when there’s younger women everywhere? They’d be limiting themselves to one kid, and that one kid could even come out with Down syndrome or some other deformity caused by using a womb past its expiration date.
Women have three peak-bargaining-power periods in their lives:
- From puberty to 16 years of age
- From 16 years of age up to 20
- From 20 to 25
After that their chances of finding a man willing to form a family with them that they’d be happy to form a family with decrease faster than their fertility.
Men are attracted to fertility, which correlates with youth. Young women have more fertile time available and that translates to the potential of making more babies than older women.
The moment women hold the most fertility to bargain (right after puberty) is forbidden by Jewish laws, so their “starting point” to try and attract the best man they can could be currently considered to be 18.
Unfortunately, by 18, women are already entering The College Experience.
Women are literally giving away their wealth (youth) for free and then falling into despair when they have no more currency to pay for quality men.
In the past, we used to choose quality men and arrange the marriages of our daughters.
Now they’re supposed to be free to choose, and this is what they do.