30 is the New 50: “Old Age” is Killing My Dating Life

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The following is an excerpt from my piece featured on TIME:

“You know,” he says. “It’s tough for people our age.”

It’s 1 a.m. on a Monday, and I am currently on the phone having an argument with a guy I’d been on only four dates with, three of them good. One of them—the last—was less good, given he had gone MIA for the better part of three weeks and I had a sneaking suspicion he had a girlfriend.

We hadn’t slept together, but the kisses had been the type of kisses you walk away from with shaky knees and blind hope. There was something there, and we both knew it, which is why we were attempting to hash things out over the phone at some ungodly hour. Because at our age, we’re adults, and things matter more. The mistakes leave marks.

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What To Do When Someone Says You Should Be Medicated.

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The following is an excerpt from a piece originally seen on The Style Con:

My black boots are still on while I wait in the foyer of his apartment with all his discarded shoes—that designated waiting area where his guests have to take off their sneakers, their heels, their sandals. Me and a bunch of other girls standing in this same spot at different times, untying laces and pulling off soles to appease his germ neuroses before having a drink, before dragging on lipstick-stained cigarettes in an open window overlooking a noisy street, before probably having sex with him.

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