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Momma Always Said Get A Rich Boyfriend

There seems to me to be an uprising of teenage girls and 20-something women pining away after men in their 30s and 40s. Just look at my Tumblr for proof. Hundreds of middle-aged men grace my blog in their beautifully cut suits.

And why would we go for boys our own age? After all, they have quests to finish, roleplays to write out and beer to drink; nevermind the fact their significant other is laid up in bed sick with the flu or asking for one night out. The boys our age are being mindlessly sucked into the video game void, passing out at parties every weekend and forgetting chivalry goes a long,  long way.

How could we not fall for these middle-aged men like Tom Hiddleston,  who still believe in romancing women through poetry, music and books? How could we not fall for a man only in his early 30s who is a distinguished botany professor? (Fine, I’m still pining after Dr. Marsico but I’m no longer a student, and therefore fair game.) Meanwhile, the boys our age are scrambling around with a broken compass trying to find the slightest hint at some sort of direction.

We are the 20-something-years-old women who see networking opportunities everywhere we go. We are the women working jobs we may not want while we climb towards that dream career. We are the women written off as “bitches” or “friendzoners” when we stand up for what we want in a man. Give us the suits and ties and do away with the frat boy sunglasses and Sperry’s (you know exactly which outfit I’m talking about.)

We are the women done playing games with irresponsible little boys who are completely comfortable not knowing what they are doing next year, let alone tomorrow. We are goal oriented and we know what we want. There are plenty of us out there who can do it without a significant other, but some of us would like someone just as motivated standing by our side.

We are independent and strong, and surrounded by boys who don’t know how to handle that. One comment about something that doesn’t sit well with us and we are “freaking out” or “PMSing.” No, sweetheart. We are defending our place as a woman in this world.

Do not be surprised when a man waltzes in and humbly showcases his stability and we become puddles at his feet. He will have no stupid stories in an attempt to impress, but a grasp on life like we’ve never seen before that really gets us going. Do not get irritated when we take to our phones while you make love to a controller with your hands,  and put more attention into killing a villain than you ever have into romancing us.

And for the love of God, when we decide to walk away don’t tell us you are the best we will ever have. I can promise you my future husband with a Ph.D and a work ethic that is just as driven as mine kindly disagrees with you.

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