His name is Adam.
He’s 53. He’s 5’9”. He’s got greying hair. He’s in decent shape, but he’s not going to post shirtless photos on Instagram. He has a college education. He makes six figures but isn’t filthy rich. He has two kids and lives in the suburbs.
He’s probably a 7.
After taking time to heal post-divorce, Adam finally decided to put himself back out there. He posted his profile on Hinge. The results have been discouraging.
Adam swipes right on nearly 50% of women’s profiles, basically matching with anyone he finds remotely attractive. Yet the percentage of women who are open to meeting him seems disproportionately low.
While Adam considers himself a relatively cute, upper-middle class professional with a lot to offer, it feels like only 1 out of 10 women match with him.
So he does what any mildly neurotic adult does: he Googles and he discovers that this is normal: men like 46% of women’s profiles while women only like 14% of men.
Turns out, the top 10% of men get over half of all likes. And Adam, evidently, is not in the top 10%.
Not only that, but most of the women who do like him are not what he’s looking for. Adam isn’t searching for a fantasy. He’s searching for an equal. A peer. Someone with similar culture and values. Instead, he’s seeing women from random neighborhoods 30 miles away that he’s not attracted to.
When he does match with someone, the conversation invariably peters out. Either she has nothing in her profile, she responds with a series of one-line texts, she disappears for days at a time, or she vanishes without a trace, presumably to date a guy who is taller or richer. From this experience, Adam draws two conclusions:
1) Dating apps are terrible. Everyone’s on them, but the people he’s attracted to don’t swipe right on him, while the ones who swipe right on him feel like a total mismatch.
2) Women are shallow. When a cute, educated, upper-middle class divorcé can’t seem to get or keep anyone’s attention, something feels wrong with the world.
Adam didn’t have trouble dating in his 20’s when he was being judged for his looks and personality in real life. Online, it feels impossible to break through.
Even in the rare instance where he gets a first date, the women seem so guarded, skeptical, or burned out that it’s hard to make a real connection.
So Adam does even more research and discovers groups of other men who are having the exact same problems meeting women on the apps. The tone in those groups is bitter. Accusatory. They blame women for being unrealistic and materialistic.
Because, after all, if every woman is holding out for a 6’5” finance guy, what hope do normal guys have? To move to Thailand? To join Ukrainian dating apps? Or, more likely, to declare a strike on dating apps, women, and love, and focus on career and children?
Seems kind of sad, doesn’t it?
Here’s the twist: I deliberately gave Adam the same traits that I have.
When I was dating on Match 20 years ago, I enjoyed it. Even though I was 5’9” and didn’t make much money, I was good with words. Back then, that mattered.
Today, that facility with words doesn’t matter as much because dating apps are fueled by algorithms and checklists. And average guys like me would not make the cut.
Now, I’m not saying you need to shed any tears for Adam.
I’m saying that you and he have more in common than you think.
Both of you are decent, emotionally functional people trying to find love in a system that rewards the hottest, flashiest singles.
Both of you feel like the opposite sex is unfair and unrealistic.
And both of you are tempted to give up.
It would be a shame if you never met Adam because you deleted the apps, decided all men are terrible, or swiped left on every “7” who is currently being overlooked.
Because the truth is: most great relationships don’t come from “the top 1%.”
They come from someone who might not jump off the screen in 0.6 seconds, but shows up well when you actually give him a chance.
Which is why the goal isn’t to “win dating apps” and land the most impressive man.
The goal is to date smart so you can find a man who’s actually capable of taking care of you.
If you want real strategy, real feedback, and real results: book a call with me here.
You don’t need more swiping. You need a smarter plan and accountability to that plan.
Love,
Evan
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Book a breakthrough call with me
* This article was originally published here
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