This horrible experiment of mine can be blamed on Hugh Hefner. When news of his passing hit, and social media was overrun with condemnation and praise, I found myself pondering. This man was involved with a multitude of young ladies who could’ve been his granddaughters. What business does an AGED, WRINKLY GYM SOCK of a man have with a YOUNG, BLOOMING FLOWER of a girl? Like Holly Madison or Pamela Anderson or Kendra Wilkinson or whomever his wrinkled squash likely entered well into his 90s.
Granted, there are statistics backing the notion that men consider the “ideal” woman to be in their early twenties. The founder of OKCupid, Christian Rudder, did an analysis of interests listed and expressed on his site and found that while women generally sought men near their age, men, regardless of age, sought 20-year-olds. Evolutionary scientists have suggested that this interest is related to fertility and child-bearing and all that gross stuff.
So I began simply. Overrun with curiosity. Made a genuine Tinder account, set it only to men over the age of 30. Apparently, since my Facebook was made when I was 11 (and all the cool fifth graders were using this cool new Facebook thing, mom, please just let me make an account ugh mom please), I couldn’t set my Tinder, incorrigibly linked to Mark Zuckerberg’s brainchild, to my real age, 19. So I was simply sweet Meghan, 21. Seeking men aged 30 and older. Looking for a Mature Man to show her a good time and teach her the ways of romance.
And so I begin with this sentiment: some of you need to sit your fathers down and give them a firm talking-to about what is appropriate Tinder behavior.
In my profile, I included several cute selfies, pictures I took in high school, and even threw in a picture from prom to really seal the deal that I was absolutely jailbait.
My first target was Tom, aged 44, who hit me with that “superlike” immediately. I had high hopes for Tom. He had the first name of a cartoon cat and the looks of a father who always told his son he “tried his hardest” when the little dude does horribly in the little league game. He had the crease in his forehead of a man who told his teenage daughter to change when she walked into the kitchen wearing a Forever21 skirt that showed a bit too much 15-year-old thigh and no daughter of his would leave the house looking like that, young lady.
Look folks, Tom knows how to romance a girl. I responded graciously and sincerely, butterflies in my youthful, ulcer-less stomach.
Now let’s give Tom credit where it’s due: he wants to know what I’m about before proceeding. He’s a man with deep respect for the girls he romances via Tinder. He asks, and I choose to tiptoe into the danger zone and analyze this interaction from the angle of my experiment itself. I lied, snuck in a slight exaggeration. To claim being underage was far too sketchy, and stating the truth that I was 19 was not too interesting. But 18? 18 is saucy, devious, defiant.
I received the notification for the “like” of the message itself before his “love it.” Oh Tom. You took the time to hit the heart button on the declaration of my barely-legal status. Sweet Tom. That’s really kind of gross. You gross, gross man.
Oh Thomas. I humored him. What can I say? It was the memory of the Lands End windbreaker in his picture that drew me in. And how could I disrespect my Khaleesi?
Poor Tom. I never meant to sweep up his heart in my silly little games, with his ham-fisted Game of Thrones references and his good morning texts. I hope him and his ex-wife reconcile. All the best to you, you damn weirdo.
Now there was one unfortunate fall out to my experiment. That being, my weak spot is dark haired men with beards. You know what Tinder is full of? Dark haired 30 year olds with beards. I think I found at least 20 candidates for Fathering My Future Children. It was all I could do to remind myself, even by just shouting in my own foolish, pathetic, 19-year-old mind that ANY 30 YEAR OLD DATING 19-YEAR-OLDS PROBABLY CAN’T GET WOMEN HIS OWN AGE TO PUT UP WITH HIM AND MEGHAN YOU DESERVE BETTER YOU DUMB SILLY HOE DON’T MESSAGE SCOTT BACK DON’T DO IT.
But what I had to confess, within my own heart, was a whack double standard was how I condemned, dare I say, even mocked the Toms of Tinder: the 40-somethings or less-than-attractive 30-somethings who traipsed about the app wishing a girl like me would fall in his arms, desperate to be deflowered and kept safe in his wisdom and maturity. Meanwhile the handsome men who noted their status as musicians, or belief in the feminist movement in their bio, I somehow had no problem with. They, too were seeking out girls a decade younger than them. But I gave them a free pass, no scorn for the strong-jawboned, bearded men. So maybe, I, too, am sick and hypocritical.
Anyway, enough moralizing. This next man describes himself in his bio as being a father of three.
Don’t worry though, he also specifies his love for chubby girls, so I felt at ease knowing he didn’t swipe right based on fetishization of my body type or anything, he’s truly interested in my heart and soul.
Next time I find myself in a political discussion, I’ll remind everyone of the diverse nature of my viewpoint, as a woman who is “creepyly exotic.” Checkmate @ everyone who disagrees with me from now on ever.
One bio was absolutely my favorite over the course of this experiment, absolutely stood out in the crowd. I “swooned” “each” and “every” time I “looked” at it. I honestly am censoring a fair bit of this because he dropped a fair bit of personal information right in his profile.
Is this “hilarious”? Maybe. But it gets better.
Four days passed, and I feared good Robert was through with me, but then he made an offer.
And that was when I potentially could have found my “sugar daddy.” But here I am, living with my parents. Adieu, Robert.
This message from Dave I thought was particularly funny. “What an odd thing to say!” I said. I received it while with a group of friends, and so I read it to them, who all agreed it was funny and weird until one friend casually says, “Actually, that’s a code phrase in the BDSM community for Daddy Dom/Little Girl roleplay relationship. He wants to sexually dominate you as if he was your father and you were his young daughter.” And then we all got really quiet, and didn’t bring it up again.
Kinkshaming aside, I did get significantly more sexually forward messages than I thought was reasonable, and definitely more than my friends who have standard age settings said was normal.
At one point, I messed around with pretending to “drunk-text” men and see what they said.
For what it’s worth, Tim waited until I was well “sober” before taking a turn with the conversation. What a gentleman.
None of these men had any power over me, they were just concepts of men on screens. If I was interacting with these men in real life, things would have gone very differently. Last year while walking to work, I was cornered by a man and he begged me for my number. I told him I was in a relationship (I wasn’t) and he insisted he only wanted to be friends. I told him I was 18 (I was) and he was clearly balding and at least 40. He insisted 18 was legal. And I had no power to leave, not only did him and his friends have me physically cornered but I was terrified to tell him no. I ultimately gave him my number so I could get to work and then quickly blocked him after he attempted to call me at least 5 times while I was working. I was lucky it was daylight. I was lucky I got away. I was lucky.
Many of the women who lived with Hugh Hefner described ways he coerced them into sex, verbally abused and manipulated them. Thousands of young women all over have been girlfriends, lovers and brides to adult men who took advantage of them based on the power in the age gap. May-December relationships always create a disparity in power.
So I end this experiment with this “wisdom:” don’t date older men. Unless they give you free rent to be their girlfriend. Maybe then it’s okay.