That One Time I...

… Responded To A Plea Not Meant For Me

Have you read this NYT op-ed asking where the men have gone? Please give it a quick perusal before you read what I’m about to unpackage here.

Where have I gone? I’m here. I’m there. I’m everywhere. Yet, I’m invisible to women unless I open my wallet. Then I become the most popular person in the room, which is something I don’t want to be. Not in this day and age where men look for love and women look for resources.

Within the past decade, possibly longer, women en masse only consider men that are six feet tall minimum for relationships. I was unaware of this dynamic change during my absence from the dating scene, so imagine how I felt recently when I read about the Bumble study that stated 92% of women will automatically exclude me from their search results due to my height. Not my race. Not my weight. Not my looks. Not my income. Not my net worth. Not anything else I could mention. My height alone.

In plain English, if you put a dozen women in a room and ask them if they’d date someone that’s 5’6” eleven of the twelve will flat out say no.

For the book I just abandoned, I did a lot of research into the modern dating scene. That meant I was exposed to countless videos created by women of various ages, shapes and sizes, a polite way of saying they hover above and below the 5’4” and 172 pound average size of an American woman. One after another stared into a camera lens hazed with filters that do a better job of removing fine lines than RoC Retinol Correxion and told the world that short men are ugly, bad, and even immoral for something they can’t control.

Based on this preference alone, it would be foolish for me to enter a committed relationship. Why should I become emotionally invested in someone when there’s a near 100% chance I’m just a place holder until someone that’s six feet tall with my same features and benefits comes along?

While I hate using social media other than blogging, I’m thankful it doubles as a free, less invasive background check. It’s astounding that some women out there use TikTok and Instagram as a replacement for psychiatry and/or expose themselves as modern day Jezebels. They cry that men won’t commit to them, but never disclose they’re only chasing the top 10%. They admit they used a man for his resources while cheating behind his back. Some will present themselves as a wholesome freelancer yet conceal the fact their freelance job is an OnlyFans account.

Then there’s the fact chivalry is dead and feminism killed it. Men are still expected to hold doors open, offer financial and physical assistance and show consideration for women yet receive nothing in return. No loyalty. No faithfulness. No kindness. No respect. No reciprocation. Nothing. Being a gentleman in 2025 is truly a thankless job without any benefits.

Finally, marriage is at best a 50/50 proposition. If it fails for whatever reason, a woman gets free cash and prizes while a man is left financially, emotionally and spiritually ruined. In some California family courts even a prenup or a living trust established before the relationship began can’t guarantee a man will retain his premarital assets. It’s like putting all of your chips on red or black and then letting a roulette wheel spin determine your fate. I’d never take that bet in Las Vegas, so why would I want to take the same gamble with my heart?

I have a lot to offer a special someone but I’d rather be alone. I have my money. I have my peace. I have my friends. There’s no reason to imperil any of those things in exchange for chaos.