Swiping in Greece
By the time you are reading this, it will be my third week here in Greece. And if you follow me on Instagram, I am sure you are already updated on my whereabouts. You have seen the sunsets, the blue waters, the white walls, and perhaps a few carefully selected angles where I look far more rested than I actually am.
But what I am about to tell you, you probably will not see on my social media.
At this very moment, as I type this in the comfort of my bed with Milo snoring beside me, I have opened a dating app upon the urgent suggestion of my dearest friends. Yes, me. A woman who is far more comfortable booking flights than booking dates.
To date or not to date (online)?
As we all know, Greece is filled with handsome men with deep tans, strong arms, and faces that look like they were sculpted by people with too much free time. My friends insist I would be foolish not to explore the local scenery. They mean the men, not the ruins.
The truth is, I do not usually go on Tinder or Bumble because I am a coward when it comes to these things. I have watched enough Netflix shows where a woman gets catfished, robbed, kidnapped, or murdered after saying hello to the wrong man. I would rather meet someone through a trusted friend.
At least if something should happen to me, somebody knows his full name and where to send the police.
Half-kidding aside, I do wonder: Am I too old to be on these apps? Is there an age when a woman should retire from swiping and simply commit to kaftans, room service, and inner peace? Are there quality men in these apps who are still single in their 50s? And if they are, why are they single? Is there something wrong with them, or are they asking the exact same question about me?
To be fair, I do hear success stories. Friends of friends who matched online, fell in love, got married, and now have beautiful families. Some people truly found their person through one swipe and a decent profile photo.
I am genuinely happy for those who found real love online, and I wish there were more success stories in that universe. It gives hope to the rest of us still dodging men who say they are “emotionally available” while posting photos from 2014.
The online dating scene
As I navigate online dating at this age, I feel many single women are more prepared for real love than men. Women our age usually know what we want. Peace, loyalty, laughter, honesty, consistency, and someone who can communicate without disappearing for three days. Men, based on what I have seen in some profiles, seem to be looking for fun, adventure, no drama, casual vibes, and “let’s see where it goes.”
At this stage of life, I do not want to see where it goes. I would like to know where we are parking first.
Nothing is wrong with wanting a fling if both people are on the same page, but do I really want that now? Honestly, I agreed to get on these apps for two reasons. First, I thought it would make a great future article. Second, I would be lying if I said it was not a tiny ego boost to know men are still swiping right on me. Although being liked by a shirtless man holding a fish does very little for my long-term confidence.
Will it or won’t it work?
If I do go out on a date, correction, if I go out on a date with a Greek god, I will be prepared. I shall wear my journalistic black dress, look chic but approachable, and mentally take notes the entire evening. But how does dating at this age work? Can a man handle a hot flash across the dinner table? Will he understand if I need reading glasses to see the menu? Can chemistry survive practical shoes?
And if I should happen to find a Greek husband, let me be clear, romance alone may not be enough. He’d better have a private jet. A yacht would be lovely. A house in Switzerland would earn extra points. I am no longer dating for struggle.
You see, I love all my readers, and I am taking on this assignment for your pleasure. If I must sacrifice myself to sunsets, seafood, and handsome Mediterranean men in the name of journalism, then so be it.
You are welcome.
