Occasionally, you write something that strikes a nerve. A recent one of mine about men not attending singles nights was one of them. Since the piece was published – you can read it here if you missed it – I’ve received hoards of emails from men, eager to share their thoughts with me.
Usually, I’d dismiss these sorts of messages – they’re often written by trolls, more concerned with projecting their own frustrations with the world onto women on the internet than they are with engaging in any kind of meaningful discourse. I’ve been called a dumb b*tch, an ignorant toad, and a litany of other, sometimes rather creative, insults.
But the men writing to me this time weren’t like that. They were intentional, heartfelt, and honest. And they were interesting, too, offering up a wide range of insights into why men might be more reluctant going to a singles night than women. One of the common themes was vulnerability, which my article touched on. “Men are used to being rejected; women are often the ones rejected,” one person wrote. “Experiencing this again, but with an audience, can’t be that tempting.”
I empathise with this. But I also think rejection, whether at the hands of a man or woman, is a natural part of the dating landscape, one all of us could benefit from dealing with a little better, both in person as well as on dating apps. Yes, it’s a bruise to the ego if someone you’re attracted to doesn’t reciprocate your feelings. But it’s not like that happens on stage in front of a crowd that will jeer and throw tomatoes at you.
I wanted to tell them that single nights are populated by other vulnerable, nervous people just like them. That’s part of what makes them so exhilarating. And I don’t agree that women are always the ones rejecting. In my social circles, where the number of eligible single women far outnumbers the amount of eligible single men, the opposite feels true. So perhaps this is a case of who’s in your network.
There were a few helpful pointers, with some men saying that the alcohol element made it tricky for those who don’t drink, while others added that the noise of these events can be overwhelming – honestly, I agree, and I often lose my voice at my own singles nights. But finding indoor venues with adequate sound levels is no mean feat.
Some men argued that the psychology of modern dating favours women more than men, potentially because women can be more emotionally fluent, a skill that the men writing to me often revealed can make them feel inadequate and even more awkward. I think that’s a shame and a view that reinforces harmful stereotypes that will only divide us further in the long run.
That said, some people clearly enjoy gender roles and feel that singles nights harmfully undermine them. One man wrote that the format itself goes “against the grain of how many men are wired to court”. “Being lined up for inspection, filling in forms, rotating on a timer – not just uncomfortable, but actively undermines the qualities that tend to make men attractive in the first place: spontaneity, confidence, a bit of mystery. Hard to be mysterious when you’re wearing a name badge. It doesn’t feel particularly ‘blokey’ to offer yourself out for selection.”
I see his point, although I can’t say my singles nights operate like school sports team selections. Nor are they particularly geared towards those looking to perpetuate ideologies that characterise men as “blokey”. But the act of making your availability known to others, and presenting the best version of yourself to them in order to attract someone doesn’t feel that strange to me. In fact, it feels like what people have been doing since the beginning of time, and certainly since dating apps launched onto the world.
Lots of men suggested integrating activities into dating nights to give them a more competitive edge – “Add some sort of competition with built-in conversation starters. A quiz? Cooking? Cocktail-making competition? Why not a go-kart event?” – and one rather boldly advised archery, as he’d been to a singles event like this recently. “Guy had plenty of bows and arrows to go around and had a slingshot too,” he wrote. I totally see the appeal of this – hence why at my most recent singles night with Bumble, we gave guests prompt cards to help facilitate conversation during speed dating. And I’m all for activities, particularly quizzes. But I remain somewhat unconvinced that the way to help men meet women in person is to give them weapons.
One gentleman got in touch via email with an even more unconventional suggestion. “May I suggest you interview multiple Pokemon Go players and set up your girl’s dating trips on a weekend at a park with Pokemon Go being the focus?” he wrote. “You could bring cases of wine from Costco and have your membership still occur for your side gig dating program, but trade dresses and high heels for comfortable walking shoes and sneakers.” I’m sure there’s a market for this somewhere, though I can’t say it’s something I’ve got planned in the pipeline.
Overall, I’m flattered that so many men got in touch with such a range of responses. Evidently, many of us are feeling fatigued and confused by modern dating, particularly within the heterosexual demographic. I’m hopeful my singles nights might play a small role in rectifying that. And in the meantime, if any of the men who generously shared their opinions with me would like to launch events better tailored to their tastes, be they revolved around archery or Pokemon Go, I’d very much encourage them to do so.
