Just a few weeks ago, I connected with a slim, mids woman on a new dating app. I was still adding photos and bio information when we connected. A brief glance at her profile deemed her acceptable for my standards. Now 41, I have a thumbnail sized patch of white hairs coming in on the corner of my chin. It adds contrast to the jet black of the rest of my trimmed stubble, and a look of sophistication to my youthful face. Yet I still manage to connect, and date attractive, often much younger women, from dating apps.
This summer, I have been out with a handful of women, ages 25 a cute, somewhat chubby Latina , through mids the sexy, sophisticated professional that sent me into a 6 month long emotional tailspin.
The lone photo on her profile was a silouhette of her full body, inverted into a graceful upside down yoga pose. My main photo, which garners the most compliments, is a simple selfie. In it, I show off a post workout pump, looking vascular and athletic in the gym bathroom mirror.
Women claim to hate gym selfies on dating profiles, but I receive constant compliments whenever I employ them. I thanked my new match for her gracious compliment, grinning at my phone from ear to ear. Seizing the opportunity to end on the high note, I explained I needed to turn in for the night. A slim woman in her mid 30s has unlimited options in men vying for her attention on any dating app. I was pleasantly surprised that she remembered me, out of her probably dozens of other matches, and wanted to continue chatting.
It would be easier to explain in person⦠would you like to get together sometime? We set a time and place to meet for coffee, and a walk in a scenic nearby park, at sunset, later that week. I wore a simple Cuban link gold chain, a spritz of a woodsy cologne, slacks, and a floral athletic fit golf shirt that showed off my fledging biceps and broad shoulders.
