There’s just something that doesn’t fit well with me when I see boys my age trying to pout in their Instagram selfies, desperately trying to show off that jawline which could cut through glass. 

And while my friends go all gaga over these new-age ‘woke’ bois, I quickly scroll up to avoid seeing anything of the sort on my timeline.

Before anyone has the question that why am I judging a book by its cover, let me tell you that I’ve read the entire series thoroughly before I came to this conclusion.

Sharp jawlines, six-pack abs, Drake playlist — I’ve done the whole shebang. Quite literally.

Subsequent to experimenting with these wannabe mumble rap Instagram models, I concluded that this life ain’t for me.

And after this realisation dawned on me, a very important question crossed my mind. If boys my own age fail to make me giddy in the stomach, does this mean I’m into older men?

So, my Tinder/Hinge age filter was immediately altered from the 20s to the next decade.

And then began the incessant swiping. Initially, the intention to date a silver fox seemed thrilling. My mind wandered off to places which made me think of how balanced a relationship with an older man might be, how well-settled his ideas about life would be.

Anyhoo, after attempting to make small talk with plenty of ‘eager’ older men who jumped at the idea of being with a younger girl, I set my focus on one. He seemed a little hesitant at first, mainly because of the age gap but the frequent conversations placed him in a comfortable space.

Too comfortable.

I would love to skip the whole disaster of a relationship I had with him but if only life functioned according to our conveniences. Let’s just say 9 days out 10, I felt like I was dating a ‘daddy’ and not the kind that’s probably crossing your dirty mind.

Also, trying to settle in with an older guy kinda creeped me out. His friends creeped me out. His colleagues creeped me out. For everyone, I was just some 20-something-old floozy. 

Apparently, that’s the first thought that comes to anyone’s mind when they see a younger woman fraternizing with an older man.

If that wasn’t enough, his ‘old-man’ habits did not fit in well with me. Nor did his ideas about life. Every time I hinted at doing something people my age would normally do, he would negate it by saying that people his age don’t do all of that. So, I shouldn’t either since I’m in a relationship with him.

And the day I was enlightened with the fact that being with an older man is not my thing either, is when I discovered how much baggage he’s carrying around. I agree that we’ve all got our share of baggage but being older means more of it and it kind of overwhelmed me. More baggage also means more ex-lovers and more ex-lovers means constantly having some sort of insecurities at the back of your head.

You can disagree as much you want to. You know it bothers all of us.

So, before I lost my shit at another ‘ex-girlfriend who’s just a friend now’ coming to ‘chill’ with us, I did what I knew best. A trick I picked up from my fucked up generation. I ghosted. After my series of unsettling experiences, if there’s anything that I was feeling, it was goddamn conflicted.

I don’t get along with boys my age, I can’t date men older to me. What the fuck do I do?

Where is my middle ground here? My comfort zone?

One side is too millennial for me, the other too old-school. Does this mean I have the option of either choosing a side and being ‘okay’ with it or make my peace with being alone?

But I ain’t no gal who will just ‘settle’ so I decided that the best way to figure out what’s missing in my life is to stay single for a while. So, I tried that out too.

LMAO, let’s just say I am not meant for the single life. The need to constantly be at the end of receiving attention is extremely high here so quit hatin’.

After indefinite and unsuccessful attempts at trying to find the ‘perfect’ match, my Tinder age bar reads ‘23-36’ and I’m all over the place. So, while Prateek Kuhad’s Cold Mess plays in the background and I swipe left-right for attention, my DMs are becoming a hot mess of their own.

While a boy is asking me ‘DTF?’, a man is asking me if I’d like to wine and dine with him. And I want to do neither. But I don’t want to be alone either.

Is this state of mind of not wanting either side permanent? Or is it just a phase? 

I’ll let you know when I do.