When will dating stop being so hard for Gen Z?

Too soon, and you’d look desperate.

her dad. If she lived at home—and most of them did back then

The only mercy was time—time to stew, time to replay every stumble, time to promise yourself you’d never be that stupid again. And then, inevitably, you’d do it all over.

This is a real question: Why do a lot of men/boys hate (yes, hate) women that voice their criteria in choosing a partner? Even when the criteria is sane and responsible. Besides it being, sadly, an effective mating strategy, why does it exist?

That means - you’ve got almost ZERO competition. You need to start trying. I’ve got dozens of videos with GenZ women complaining about you not trying. Extremely hot - Gen Z chicks.

If I’d had the choice back then, you can bet your ass I’d have taken the easy way out. But here’s the ugly truth, my friend: all this convenience comes with a price. The grit, the effort, the goddamn humanity of it all has been gutted, leaving behind a sterile, hollow shell.

First of all - I am not selling anything. I am not a “coach.” I don’t want your money. I’m good. I’ve got videos of me in my Lamborghini Huracan, and Ferrari California to prove it.

Why are white men so obsessed with Asian women? I'm friends with people from all different backgrounds but I never see my other non-white male friends obsess over or talk about Asian women like I've seen the white ones do.

All of this is GOOD NEWS! It should seem obvious, but from your perspective, its not.

Every word out of your mouth felt like a confession at gunpoint. You’d be sweating bullets, trying to sound like some paragon of virtue, knowing full well he was picturing you as the scumbag who’d ruin his daughter’s life.

And let’s say, by some unholy miracle, you got her number. Don’t start celebrating yet, cowboy—you were still deep in the trenches.

If Jesus was crucified by Governor Pontius Pilate, why does the Quran deny his death?

I used to date Millennials until they hit the “expiration date.” The youngest Millennials are 29 now—aging out of the sugar scene and into therapy. (The more bitter ones will be in this answer’s comment section)

are either

Dropped out of the dating scene

How can one select funeral songs that truly celebrate the essence of a loved one’s life while providing comfort to attendees?

Both groups—Millennials and Gen Z—are grumbling the same refrain:

They ask for advice, and there’s no jealousy poisoning the well.

And let me tell you, fathers in those days weren’t just protective; they were full-blown sentinels guarding the gates of hell.

Can you share a picture of your favorite outfit and explain why you love it?

If you’re serious about learning how to approach women, then, I’m here to help. Again, I am not selling anything, I don’t want your money - I’m good.

I wasn’t suprised…The girls I date are stunners, the kind of women who turn sidewalks into catwalks. Of course guys don’t approach them. Guy’s DON’T approach dimes—they’re terrified.

If you’ve got a reason for NOT approaching women - don’t watch my videos…

Is there a type of function where every point has exactly one tangent line passing through it? If yes, what is this type of function called?

In short - you’ve just got no game - but its not your fault.

And there was no goddamn escape hatch. No apps to swipe your failures away, no digital armor to protect your ego. You were exposed, raw and bleeding, stranded in the harsh fluorescent light of reality. You’d sit there, a monument to your own humiliation, drowning in the bitter cocktail of shame and regret.

But as I listened more and started connecting dots, I realized this wasn’t just a hot-girl problem.

How do I get over a long-term relationship breakup?

For a solid decade, I was neck-deep in the pick-up artist scene. Yes, it works—and by "works," I mean becoming a swaggering, dopamine-addled caricature of a man. You learn the tricks, the lines, the rhythms of a social dance that’s as contrived as a daytime infomercial. But here’s the rub: it turns you into an unholy blend of desperation and bravado—a full-tilt douchebag with a veneer of charisma. Eventually, you start to hate your own reflection. That’s when I bailed.

If there are less guys approaching women - to the point where 50% of guys your age

As a 48-year-old Sugar Daddy, I’ve seen the battlefield from both trenches, and let me tell you—it’s a hell of a vantage point.

What is world history that not many people know about?

It’s a strange, paternalistic partnership, and God help me, I actually enjoy it.

That’s the gauntlet we came from—the crucible of humiliation and raw, unfiltered chaos. The one we survived.

It’s an epidemic.

What is the correct way to say "you're welcome" in French? Is it "de rien" or something else, and if so, what is it exactly (including accent marks)?

And now? Now, you just swipe left or right. No awkward calls. No interrogation from dad. No sweaty palms gripping the receiver like a lifeline. It’s all neat, sanitized, and gutless.

Don’t put your loser negativity in the comment section.

Forget the Hollywood fantasy of smirking Casanovas armed with killer one-liners and perfectly tousled hair under neon lights.

Do you think the constitution and laws should be taught in school?

I listen. I guide. Sometimes I protect.

These girls, they open up in ways you don’t see in “normal” dating.

So, I dug in, peeled back the layers of this sociocultural onion, and yeah, I’ve figured it out. I know why men aren’t stepping up. And more importantly, I know how to fix it.

How should one handle a situation where they suspect their partner of cheating, but their partner denies it and claims it is all in their head?

Right now, your natural instinct is to give me a “reason” why you can’t.

he’d be the one to pick up.

It sucked. It was a bloodsport—a gladiatorial brawl for your dignity where the odds were stacked against you, the crowd was jeering, and the lions were already licking their chops.

Was there any slavery of white people that actually compares to the transatlantic slave trade? I’m not baiting or anything actually genuinely curious and want to know.

And you would. Oh, you absolutely *would*.

First came the mental gymnastics of when to call.

Now, sugar dating? That’s a different beast. It’s refreshingly laid back—a strange, unspoken contract of mutual honesty and boundary-free conversation.

How is Sola Scriptura incoherent?

What I am is a dude who’s actually concerned with this problem, and, I can help. For free.

Either way, the clock was ticking, and every passing second chipped away at your already tenuous grip on sanity.

They spill their secrets, their heartbreaks, their schemes, and their dreams.

My stepdaughter’s mom tells her I’m not a real dance teacher, but my stepdaughter has seen me in action. Why does she still question my abilities?

Then it’d come—the rejection, sharp and merciless, cutting through the smoky haze of the room like a knife through your soul. But that wasn’t the worst part, oh no. The worst part was the *spectacle*. Her friends would swoop in like vultures, eyes gleaming, ready to eviscerate what little was left of you. You weren’t just rejected; you were a public execution.

No, it was more like strapping on a blindfold, stepping into a minefield, and praying you didn’t explode into a million pathetic pieces.

But when you finally did muster the nerve to dial, you’d hit another goddamn wall:

Why are white women not interested in dating Asian men? Are they not attractive to you at all?

In the 90’s - you didn’t have a choice - cold approaching was just what you had to do.

Save it for your incel group.

I’ve ridden this wave long enough to see a generational shift.

**guys don’t approach me!**

They’d answer with a voice like gravel and demand to know your name, your intentions, your SAT score—hell, maybe even your blood type.

Buckle up, because this is a cocktail of hard-earned wisdom, poor decisions, and a willingness to wade waist-deep into the absurdities of modern dating.

Virgins

Enter Gen Z, a new crop of frustrated souls, but the frustration is eerily familiar.

Wait too long, and she’d forget you even existed.

That first "uh, hey" would leave your lips, shaky and desperate, and she’d glance at you like you were a stray dog begging for scraps.