DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: Hope you find the time to read this heart-breaking story.

I (M, 30) met this woman (F, 38) almost 3 years ago at a bar. She was a little drunk and recently divorced, like, days ago. 

We went home and made love that same night, and talked until very late hours. The chemistry was – and still is-  really strong. 

I thought she was younger (she certainly looked so!), she revealed her age, shortly before leaving. I didn’t know what would happen later so I didn’t care.

The first months the relationship developed really slow and easy, and I was always clear about how I wasn’t interested in “formal” relationships, like “girlfriend”, marriage, and so on. Still, I was all-in for real love, respect and sincerity. She was OK with that, most of the time, but after a year or so she demanded more commitment or spending more time together. I was OK with that too then, and I could have kept it that way, like, forever.

But as time passed and love grew, she “realized” (thanks to me , and the relationship, she says) that she did want marriage, family, etc. I was like, yes, me too, just not now .

Flash-forward to few weeks ago: she just went on a 4-months trip to a far away country, and last time we saw she said when she comes back she doesn’t want to live alone and she doesn’t have much time if she wants to be a mother. She will not push me in any way, but it would be very hard for her to continue seeing me as I’m not “in the same page”. 

So basically it was like a break-up.

I know for sure that in all this time she never saw anyone else but me, she loves me – and I love her. We are really good friends and I’m really attracted to her.

I have a good job but still feel like I need to work on some personal issues and get to have some more life experience before fully committing to a family.

I have so many fears, and the age gap is a big issue on my mind, as I would hate that in, let’s say, 10 years, I’m no longer attracted to her and pursue younger girls. I was a “late bloomer” and haven’t met “many” women, and sometimes I feel like I’m “missing out” on something.

Please Doc, share some words for me about this. Be brutally honest. I need perspective

All the best and many thanks in advance

My December Romance

DEAR MY DECEMBER ROMANCE: Well, not gonna lie MDR, this is probably the first age gap question involving a (slightly) older woman, instead of an older man interesed in pursuing younger women so hey, congratulations on this.

But – as is so often the case – you’re asking the wrong questions. Especially since this isn’t really an age-gap problem, it’s an experience problem. Specifically: you don’t have any, and it’s kinda freaking you out.

So let’s get something out oft he way, right off the bat, ok? Being a late bloomer isn’t really an issue except in your own head. Whenever I talk to older (male) virgins or late bloomers, one of the things that comes up fairly consistency is the fear of “missing out”. Whole lotta folks worry that they’re missing the opportunity to sow their wild oats, have their “slut period” or whatever they want to call it.

But hey you want me to be brutally honest? OK, well here it is: most of the time what they’re actually saying is that they want to bang the chicks they were into as teenagers and twenty-somethings. They can’t quite bring themselves to straight up say “Yes, I want to have lots of casual sex with women when they’re young and perky and apparently immune to gravity”, and instead talk about “missing out”. It’s always framed as though there was a limited window of time in which you could have lots of crazy, no-strings sex with young women and as soon as you age out of that window (which can be anywhere from 35 to as young as 17, depending on who’s angsting about it) then you’re just s--t out of luck. Supposedly all women past the age of &ARBITRARY_YEAR are either coupled up or looking for marriage and children, not wild sexual adventures.

Here’s the truth: this is pretty much sexist bulls--t. While yes, while it becomes more challenging for women to have children as they get older, the idea that there’s a window for sexual adventure or sleeping around or whatever is false. The folks who are the most invested in this idea – which often runs parallel with  “women ‘hit the wall’ at 27” red pill/MRA bulls--t – tend to either have next to no relationship experience or actively dislike women. In both cases, this belief is based more on vibes and retrograde ideas about women and female sexuality.

Is it true that the older you get, the more likely you are to find women who want to get married or have kids? Yeah, especially since people are waiting longer to get married and to start families. Does that mean all women are going to be actively looking for marriage or dudes with father potential? F--k no. In fact, one of the things you will learn is that as women get older, they tend to be more comfortable in themselves, more confident in their sexuality and – importantly – more willing to pursue what they actually want instead of what they’re “supposed” to want. Sometimes that means yes, they want to settle down and have kids. Others though? Others fully embrace that no, they want radically different things… including f--king around the way they didn’t (or felt like they couldn’t) in their 20s. When they were younger, they had other priorities, they had other commitments and they often were more worried about what they were “supposed” to do. But as they get older and more confident, they start to run out of f--ks regarding what society tells them.

And let me tell you, a sexually confident woman with no f--ks to give is a glorious and terrible thing.

But what about you? You’re 30, and you’re worried that you’re going to be “missing out” if you decide to commit to your maybe-ex/maybe-not girlfriend. Well… yes. Here is another truth: you’re going to be missing out. That’s what commitment means; you’re committing to building a life with that person and (presumably) only having sex with them. And even with ethical forms of non-monogamy, you’re still going to be missing out. Yeah, it means you aren’t restricted to sleeping with only one person for the duration of your relationship, but it does mean that a lot of folks are going to opt out in advance.

But this is going to be true no matter who you date or when. Making a choice to be in a relationship with someone is ultimately making a choice that says you’re going to miss out on relationships with others. You will always be making compromises when you settle down with someone, because there’s no settling down without settling for. Nobody – not any celebrity you care to name – gets everything they want in a relationship. What you do, if you’re doing things right, is choose a relationship with someone where what you do get is so damn good that you’re ok with what you’re having to give up in exchange. Yes, you may not be able to go out and hook up with the young nubile women you see on the Internet or at the club or whatever, but you get so much awesome stuff with your partner that the rest is an acceptable price to pay. Especially since you won’t get what you get from your partner from anyone else.

Well, ok, so does that mean that the answer is to slut it up now and get it out of your system so at least you can say you got to experience X, Y and Z before you settled down?

No. No it doesn’t. Because here is another truth: the idea that you get “f--king around” out of your system and then settle down isn’t real. There’s no “getting it out of your system”. You’re a mammal with a sex drive, and an ape besides; you’re always going to be attracted to other people, always going to want to sleep with other people, regardless of age or relationship. And so will the people you’re dating or commit to. That doesn’t go away; it may go dormant in the early days of the relationship, when the New Relationship Energy is running hot, but it’s built into the human experience. Monogamy just means that you promise not to have sex with someone else; it doesn’t say a damn thing about not wanting to.

And here is a third truth: everyone you date is going to age. Everyone you date is going to grow older. Time makes fools of us all and gravity and entropy always win. You can try to avoid dealing with this by, say, pulling a DiCaprio and breaking up with women once they hit a certain age, but honestly? Even DiCaprio can’t pull that off, certainly not forever. So if you decide to settle down and commit to only one person, then you’re going to see them get older. Their skin is going to sag, their breasts are going to droop, their butt won’t be as perky as it used to be. But will you notice? Will you even care?

That depends on a lot of things. To start with: growing old with someone is a slow process and these are changes that occur over time. Over time, they’re things that happen, but as they happen, they just get incorporated into our idea of who they are. Its like looking back at a picture of you and being shocked at how young you are; you don’t think about it until you see that side-by-side contrast. But also, when you love someone, you still see the person you fell in love with at the start, no matter what’s happening with their skin or hair, because love may be physical, but it’s emotional and mental too. 

Now here’s a final truth: you don’t know if your relationship with your ex – should you choose to try to pursue things with her – will be your last. Nobody does. Every relationship comes to an end, except the one that doesn’t, and you have no idea which it will be, or how it will end. Sometimes it ends because the relationship has run its course. Sometimes it ends because somebody messed up, or because you weren’t compatible in the ways you needed to be for the long haul. Or it may end because a double decker bus crashed into the both of you; you have no idea. You just want to be sure that, if you’re committing to somebody, that they’re worth it.

I will say this: if you’re not sure you’re ready for marriage and a family, then you should let this relationship go. While I’m sure she’s wonderful, there’re few things more corrosive to a relationship than someone making a commitment that they don’t actually want. It’s one thing to question whether you’re ready to have kids or in a place emotionally or financially to support them. Its another to start a family just because someone else wanted to. She’s laid her marker down; she wants marriage and kids on a very short timeline. You aren’t sure. If that’s the case, then you’re better off letting this relationship end. It’s better for you, and it’s kinder for her. You’re not giving up on things or “missing out”, you’re both letting each other go, so that you aren’t holding each other back from meeting the people who are right for you.

If you know you want to screw around for now – and trust me, no judgement there, I’m all in favor of folks being sluts when they want to – then be honest with yourself. If you are worried more about not having ‘enough’ before you decide to settle down? Well, you may want to think about what enough means, and why you want it. Because sometimes what you think you want is what you’ve been told you’re supposed to want. Know yourself, know exactly what you want and why before you decide.

And whichever way you do decide? Make sure that it’s worth the price of entry.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I hope you’re having a good holiday season. In fact, that’s why I’m writing to you: I don’t want to ruin the holidays with my issues. So here’s a quick run down of my backstory: my boyfriend (m/25) and I (m/25) have been together for two years, and he’s incredible. We’re very much in love and have a great relationship. However, there’s one significant issue: his parents.

This Christmas, like the last, I’m invited to spend the holiday at his parents’ house. The problem is, I really don’t like his parents. They’re not bad people, and they’ve always been kind to me, but we’re just fundamentally different in many ways – our interests, beliefs, and even sense of humor don’t align. At the risk of sounding snotty or snobbish, they’re not really cultured in the way I am, and they don’t get or understand a lot of the things I enjoy, and so we never quite understand each other. It’s almost like we’re talking two entirely different languages, with different cultural idioms, references and views of the world. It’s not for lack of trying, but there comes a point where even well-meaning and earnest attempts to connect just fizzle out and we’re all left just staring at each other with an increasingly awkward silence. This makes spending time with them exhausting and often uncomfortable for me.

I want to be clear: his parents are lovely people. They had some issues adjusting to learning their son was gay at first but they’ve been the sort of “show-up-at-Pride-parades-with-snacks-for-everyone” supportive types and if they get something wrong, they’re quick to apologize and try to get it right. They seem to genuinely like me and are always excited when I visit. My boyfriend adores his parents and is oblivious to my discomfort and I honestly would prefer to keep it that way because it’s my problem to solve, not his. He’s thrilled about spending Christmas together as a family and all their little traditions and I don’t want to disappoint him or create tension.

I’m torn between my love for my boyfriend and my discomfort around his parents. I want to be supportive and participate in his family traditions, but the thought of spending an extended period with his parents fills me with dread. How do I handle this situation without hurting my boyfriend or damaging our relationship?

Sincerely, Homesick for the Holidays

DEAR HOMESICK FOR THE HOLIDAYS: I’ll be honest, HFTH, I read your letter and I’m picturing Niles Crane trying to get through Christmas in Biloxi, Mississippi and quietly dying because he’s going to dinner at Applebee’s or something. And while admittedly it’s an amusing image, I feel like that might be an apt description of what’s going on here and, thus an entry into the problem. 

In fact, based on your description of the situation, I wonder if this is a sort of city mouse/country mouse situation or awkward Hallmark home-to-the-small-town scenario where the big city boyfriend just can’t grasp the virtues of small town life.

(And TBH, as a dedicated city rat, I always feel my hackles rise a little during those movies. I swear I’m going to write a Christmas movie about someone stuck in the Bronx for Christmas and learning the joys of diverse communities, big-city conveniences and identities based around shared neighborhoods…)

It’s the sort of thing that feels a little like class snobbery, but also a little of the idea that the urban/rural divide is somehow so diametrically opposed to one another – a cultural oil and vinegar, of sorts – that the two can’t really blend without a lot of agitation in the process. And again, it’s a gift for someone trying to come up with a suitably pithy metaphor, but I think it speaks a little to mindset and where the actual problem lies. Not in your boyfriend’s parents so much as in how you see him and where he came from.

I bring this up, in part, because I wonder just how much of an effort you’ve actually made at meeting the parents where they’re at and how much of the barrier you’re feeling is the sort of snobbishness you say you’re trying to avoid. If you’re seeing his family as provincial or less sophisticated or enlightened, I can see a sort of mindset of “well of course my boyfriend can bridge this gap, our superior culture was what he was missing but I’m having to dial myself down to be at their level” coming up. This kind of thinking leads to situations like yours, where you’re physically present and participating but still holding yourself back. A sort of “I’ll do this because I have to, but I know I’m better than this” sort of attitude.

In fact, I see this happen in a lot of relationships in general, where someone will make a half-hearted attempt at participating in something their partner finds important but they find a little distasteful or that’s beneath them in some way. This is less “sharing in my partner’s interests” so much as touching a base (under duress) and doing as little as possible to still get the credit for being involved at all. In times like that, it’s almost better to say “hey, you do your thing with your friends who are also into it and we’ll meet up afterwards.” This way, at least, they don’t have to devote any mental or emotional bandwidth towards worrying that you’re not enjoying things, bringing down the group’s fun or otherwise trying to play cruise director while finding ways to keep you engaged.

However, that approach is a little harder to do during a holiday trip to see the fam. It’s definitely hard to do that without coming across as a little rude or stand-off-ish. So I wonder if, perhaps, even as you go and “participate”, you’re holding yourself back; you’re attending more as an anthropologist observing others from an elevated, outsider’s perspective, rather than someone who’s actually fully involved. This is the sort of thing that a lot of folks think they’re managing to hide, but it comes across in the way they behave. There’s a begrudging sort of “ok, fine“, that bleeds into your body language and overall attitude.

Since it doesn’t sound like you’re being asked to do or tolerate things that would be harmful or unpleasant (say, going to Christmas services in a very homophobic church), I wonder if maybe the issue is that you don’t actually commit and let yourself enjoy them. Is it possible that you’re holding back and approaching these trips with a level of detachment or irony for fear of… I dunno, losing some sense of cultural superiority? Is it possible that the simple sincerity of something you see as being more provincial or what-have-you strikes you as being a bit cringe?

Perhaps, for this Christmas, a gift you could give yourself would be that, instead of avoiding cringe, you cut out the part of yourself that cringes and just try connecting with the sincerity of it. Instead of thinking of your boyfriend’s family traditions as being less cultured, less sophisticated or whatever, you try letting go and just trying to enjoy it for what it is. If it helps, think of it as inhabiting a role; at first, you’re going through the motions, but as you relax into it, you may find that you enjoy it more if you don’t have your guard up.

The same goes with connecting with his parents. It sounds like they’ve been making an effort to reach out to you; perhaps it’s time to return the favor and try to reach out and try to appreciate things from their side of the divide. You may even find that it’s a little easier to start before you go, where it’s a little easier to explore their cultural milieu, knowing that your comfort zone is within easy reach.   

Failing that, perhaps the way to get more comfortable is to connect with the way it brings your boyfriend joy. It may not be your favorite flavor of eggnog, but it’s his and if you can zero in on that and the joy of seeing him come to life with all the cheese and tinsel-covered glintz and gingerbread. You might even be able to find aspects of it that are more refined or complex than you’d previously expected.

The big thing to hang onto is that while you may not necessarily dig his family or their traditions, you can at least respect them and be a full participant. Even if you’re not having the bestest of the best times, is this something that you can manage for him, at least occasionally? Perhaps a compromise here would be, as is with so many couples, to alternate years – even years you visit his family for the holidays, odd ones you visit yours… or even have years where you bring the families to you. You might even be able to share (or start) some traditions of your own with his family… even if it’s just annual viewings of The Hogfather or Anna And The Apocalypse.

But, at the very least, give it an honest shot at letting your guard down and just trying to lean into the spirit of the thing. If you give it a couple of sincere attempts and it just doesn’t work, you can focus on the “at least respect it if you can’t enjoy it” aspect, if only for your boyfriend’s sake.

Good luck.

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Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I’m writing you because I’m in a situation that I never really imagined I’d be in. To give you some background, I’m like a lot of the men that write to you; I’m a younger 20-something guy who has been awkward all his life and has had zero success in love. It was too the point that I would rather stay up all night trying to figure out what was wrong with me than sleep. I should be an incel, I guess I am in a literal sense of the term (involuntarily celibate), but I just don’t have the anger in me to blame everyone else, even if it’s almost relieving to do so.

Fast forward to today and I’m nearly a completely different person. I’m relatively successful for my age, I just moved to a new city with someone who’s helped me grow a lot, and I’m definitely a bit more confident than I was, to the point that I could approach women if I wanted to. But there’s still a little bit of the old me, the part that can’t watch or read certain things because it triggers a sense of inadequacy. Deep inside I’m just still inadequate as a man.

But that aside, I’ve found that I have a problem that I never imagined I could have. Instead of feeling suicidal because no one could ever love me like so many men my age, instead I find myself having trouble finding someone I could love (a problem that I don’t think many men my age experience), and I just feel a sort of deep unease over it.

I downloaded all of the major dating apps, threw my best photos on there, and I even got some traction. That’s something I never would have been able to do just a year ago. I even go outside regularly. But I just can’t see myself ever meeting someone I can love. Someone who makes me feel indescribable feelings, or at least feelings that my rudimentary vocabulary can’t properly convey.

I did everything right. Worked on myself, just like the internet told me to. I got a great job, I’m physically active, I’m not awful looking, I have a distinct personality. And I even kind of did it for myself instead of just doing it to attract women, just like the internet told me too.

To summarize my question; What can I do when I just can’t find anyone who I can love? I don’t feel like my standards are too high, I’m not looking for anyone more attractive, more intelligent, more financially or professionally successful, or just more interesting than I am. I’m very much going with the flow, but the flow appears to have taken a left turn that I don’t know how to deal with.

Thank you for your time,

Sad-Reddit-Dwelling-Virgin-Loser no. 1235500

DEAR SAD REDDIT DWELLER: First of all, let’s not zoom past your progress, man. You’ve moved, you’ve grown, you’re in a new place and you’re doing things you never imagined that you were capable of. That’s really goddamn impressive, and I think you need to take a moment and give yourself some applause for what you’ve accomplished.

That’s going to be important in a second.

Now having said that, let’s define terms here, SRD. What exactly is it that you feel like you’re lacking? Is it that you’re not meeting people? Is it that the people you’re meeting aren’t clicking? Are you’re looking around and not feeling your heart leap out of your chest when you see people? Or is it that you’re seeing people you find attractive, but you aren’t allowing yourself to feel for them, because you’re afraid that they won’t return your feelings or that they’ll eventually just abandon you?

If I’m being honest, I think it’s the latter. It’s not that you’re not meeting people, or that you aren’t meeting people you’re compatible with or could be with. It’s that you don’t feel like you are “worthy” of love. You drop a lot of words like “inadequate” or “loser” and “I just can’t see myself ever meeting someone I can love“

I mean… not to put to fine a point on it but there’s your problem. It’s not that you can’t find someone to love. It’s that you can’t see someone loving you. That’s decidedly a case of having unreasonable standards… not for other people, but for yourself.

You spend a lot of time kicking yourself in the nuts in your letter, my dude, and honestly, that’s where things are going wrong for you. You’ve built up this idea that all the work you’ve done and all the progress you’ve made doesn’t mean anything. You’re still “inadequate”. Which, ok, sure, those feelings are real. But what does “inadequate” even mean? You don’t say what it is that you think you’re lacking. And honestly, that part matters because… well, in some ways, it’s the missing piece, yeah? Without the thing, that je ne se quoi or secret sauce you apparently lack, you don’t feel worthy. You don’t feel like people could love you.

But this gets right back to that Ru Paul quote. How are people supposed to love you when you don’t love yourself? Not because not loving yourself means you aren’t worthy of being love, but because you don’t feel like you can accept that other people might love you.

It’s really easy to mistake this feeling for not being able to find someone to love because you aren’t allowing yourself to be open to the possibility that it could happen. You’re putting up a wall that keeps people out. It’s understandable; you’re worried about being hurt. You feel like letting yourself feel hope or attraction to others is just an invitation to rejection. But people can’t love you if you don’t let them in. If you aren’t willing to believe in your own worth, your own value… well, why would you believe other people could?

Now, again: you don’t say what you think those inadequacies are. And I’m gonna be real with you: I’ve been doing this job for a long damn time now, and folks tend to have a wildly exaggerated idea of what they need to be “deserving” of love or to be “adequate”. So I’m going to suggest that maybe, just maybe, you’ve gotten in the habit of kicking yourself for so long that you’re almost afraid to stop. Like, what happens if you recognize that you didn’t need to beat yourself up so much?

Spoiler alert: you end up being a lot happier.

With all that being said, I do want to mention that the aforementioned Ru Paul quote gets some pushback from folks who, rightly, point out that loving yourself isn’t a prerequisite to being loveable or being deserving of love. And to be sure, sometimes learning to love yourself is also the process of learning to undo a lot of damage and lessons learned and to change your relationship to a lot of things you may see as truths. So it may help to see this in terms of “learn to accept yourself”, rather than to love yourself, and recognize that being “worthy” of love isn’t really a thing. Love doesn’t only come when you’re “worthy”. Love comes with being able to accept it from others.

You’ve done a great job with all the progress you’ve made so far. Now would be a good time to start putting that same effort, that same diligence and that same emotional fortitude into learning to accept yourself and accept that other people could love you… and to allow yourself to feel it in return.

Will this be easy? Probably not. You may well need to talk to a counselor or therapist to unpick some self-limiting beliefs that are holding you back. But as the wise man once said: nobody said it would be easy, just that it would be worth it.

(…that was me. I’m  the wise man who said that.)

You’ve made a lot of progress my dude. Don’t let it all be for not. Shift your focus and keep at it, and you’ll be much happier overall. And when you do find someone who is your particular flavor…

Well, you’ll be ready for them.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com