From relationships to self-discovery, Dear Ani brings you grounded advice and fresh perspective on the challenges that shape us most. Here, we explore the moments that test us, transform us, and teach us how to show up for ourselves and others with more grace.
This summer, I was having dinner with a group of young women in Los Angeles — one of those restaurants that’s so proud of itself it won’t even put up a sign. You just walk toward an unmarked door like you’re being initiated into something. Inside, everyone is pretending not to stare at the C-list actor pretending he doesn’t want to be stared at. The whole thing was ridiculous in a very L.A. way.
The ambience was perfect, the burrata practically singing hymns.
And then the girls started talking about dating.
Not talking — collapsing.
One of them groaned, “Ani, the dating pool is basically a kiddie pool.”
Another added, “A kiddie pool with one lifeguard… and he’s on his phone.”
I almost flung my ravioli out of pure spiritual exhaustion.
These were not confused college girls.
These were grown, moisturized, therapy-scheduled, W-2-filing women. Women with careers, actual savings accounts, and apartments with real art. Not posters held up by thumbtacks.
Yet the way they spoke about dating? You’d think they’d survived a natural disaster.
And in the back of my mind I could hear Scott Galloway, like that uncle who comes to family gatherings armed with charts and nobody asked him for them.
His voice just saying: “The math is broken.”
Not your standards.
Not your face.
Not your chakras.
The math.
Online dating has warped the whole thing. Galloway calls it “winner-take-most,” which in regular English means: a tiny group of men get all the attention, and the rest — the decent ones, the normal ones, the ones who actually reply to texts — are buried so deep in the algorithm it might as well be a hostage situation.
So women are left with this buffet that looks full but feels empty.
Thousands of profiles… and somehow only one viable option, and he’s 5′7″ but swears he’s 5′10″ “in shoes.” Sir. Please.
One woman literally threw her hands up.
“It’s not that I can’t find a man. I can find plenty. I just can’t find one who’s emotionally available, has a job he doesn’t hate, and won’t ask me, ‘So what are you looking for?’ like he’s about to hand me onboarding paperwork.”
Another said, “The apps feel like Costco. Everyone’s shopping in bulk, nobody’s committing, and the samples aren’t even good anymore.”
At that point I just screamed into my napkin.
Because the truth is painfully simple:
Women in their 30s and 40s want extremely reasonable things.
Somehow revolutionary things.
Things so basic that men treat them like advanced trigonometry.
You want someone who can apologize without needing to disappear like he’s filming a secret mission.
Someone whose texting style isn’t: “Been busy,” while simultaneously posting gym videos, brunch shots, and a photo of his sneakers on the floor like it’s Pulitzer-worthy.
You want someone who isn’t startled by a woman with ambition.
A woman with matching towel sets.
A woman whose couch was not obtained through Craigslist negotiations.
You want a man, not a multi-year home renovation project.
And big cities?
Oh, they are crawling with projects.
Men “working on themselves” when the only thing they’re working on is their fantasy football ranking.
Dating has turned into a video game nobody wins.
Swipe, ghost, repeat.
Men saying “I’m not ready for anything serious” at an age where they should at least be ready for a dermatologist.
Too many people want intimacy without responsibility.
Connection without adulthood.
Vibes without effort.
So here’s the rant I gave them — and now you’re getting it too:
Big cities offer quantity, not substance.
You can date ten men and still not find one who knows how to plan ahead.
Charisma is cheap.
Consistency is gold.
Charisma gets you a fun night.
Consistency gets you a life.
If you’re confused, he’s not your person.
Men who want you do not speak in riddles.
Apps are the french fries of romance — you never feel good afterward.
The real men are in real places.
Men get very disoriented when boundaries are clear.
Let them be disoriented.
You’re dating in a generation where emotionally mature men are basically a shipping delay.
Backordered.
But real.
And one of them is looking for a woman who knows who she is and refuses to shrink.
Everything else is logistics.
With love and a prayer,
Ani
