Not every single man turns bitter or becomes a "woman-hater" incel—or do they...?
Thanks, I’ve Had Enough
I know, I know: “Why did I even go there?” But I can’t help it—I’m a romantic. In my twenties and thirties, I squeezed in four marriages. Each time, I vowed eternal loyalty, truly believing the marriage would last forever. Sadly, every one ended in failure, and I lost a bit of myself with each divorce. My last divorce was two years ago. Now, at 44, I have no intention of starting a new relationship. I’m done. I no longer see aging alone as tragic. Honestly, it surprises me, but I’m happier this way.
Why Bother?
Recently, I was talking with my 70-year-old dad about how being a single guy in the ’80s wasn’t easy—but today, it’s a breeze. There’s endless free online porn, discreet and affordable access to escorts, food delivery, and even housekeepers. My dad agrees: men no longer have to put up with nagging wives who might not cook well and rarely want intimacy.

Not Even Under Threat
I’ve had three long-term relationships—pretty average love life. Then at 41, I dove into the “joys” of online dating and spent four years trying to find a partner—without success. But those four years did teach me one thing: I burned out completely. Since then, I don’t want a relationship anywhere near me. Everyone lies, pretends, juggles multiple options, looks nothing like their photos, and only wants money. I’m done. Even if someone held a gun to my head, I wouldn’t go on another date—never again.
Spent Out
I tried for years. Went to barbershops, worked out, kept my car clean, and my place tidy. Showered and smelled good before every meeting. I courted, complimented, sent witty messages, picked great restaurants, and planned exciting outings. The result? Zero, nada, nothing. I categorize my experiences into five main types. No chemistry: no hard feelings, it just didn’t click. No effort: we’ve been chatting and dating for weeks, but nothing happens unless I reach out first. Ghosting: the no-comment category—when she can’t even send a quick “sorry, we’re not a match.” Gold-digging: when she grills me about my job, income, apartment size, car age, vacation homes, and more. Directionless: when someone has no job, no goals, no life plans—just floating. Bottom line: I’m done. If someone comes into my life naturally, great. But I’m no longer chasing women.
Being Heard
Dating has become a nerve-wracking job interview where I play therapist, breadwinner, emotional support, event planner, knight, and sex god—all at once. And all I get back is emptiness and disinterest. Women know they hold the cards and sometimes take advantage. They pick through men like a spoiled kid in a candy store. It’s disheartening when she’s more interested in photographing her food and tagging the restaurant than talking to me. I exhausted myself trying to fit in, and I’m much more balanced since letting go of relationships. I have a friends-with-benefits situation who drops by once a week—that’s enough to keep me sane, but I’m not looking for anything serious anymore.











