When will dating stop being so hard for Gen Z?

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

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

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

Isn't it unfortunate for the Democrats that we Republicans are the masters of the universe who control everything while the Democrats control nothing?

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

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

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

How do you get a teenage boy to care about hygiene?

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.

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.

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

What would happen if the US government told the British government in no uncertain terms all RAF bases with USAF personnel now must follow the Constitution and us law, and if the UK tried to defy this, the US military would directly attack the UK?

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.

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

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

I’ve a dismissive avoidant partner who said that he’s overwhelmed by our relationship and that he wants to break up, how do I get him back?

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.

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

Why would an older small breed dog become obsessive about hygiene?

I listen. I guide. Sometimes I protect.

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.

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

All of the new features coming to Apple’s iOS apps - TechCrunch

**guys don’t approach me!**

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

Dropped out of the dating scene

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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.

Too soon, and you’d look desperate.

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

Scottie Scheffler Calls US Open at Oakmont 'The Hardest Golf Course...Maybe Ever' - Bleacher Report

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.

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

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.

I’m wondering about attachment and transference with the therapist and the idea of escape and fantasy? How much do you think your strong feelings, constant thoughts, desires to be with your therapist are a way to escape from your present life? I wonder if the transference serves another purpose than to show us our wounds and/or past experiences, but is a present coping strategy for managing what we don’t want to face (even if unconsciously) in the present—-current relationships, life circumstances, etc. Can anyone relate to this concept of escape in relation to their therapy relationship? How does this play out for you?

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.

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.

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

Epic Effort to Ground Physics in Math Opens Up the Secrets of Time - Quanta Magazine

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.

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

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

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

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

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)

How do you say "I don't speak Italian yet, but I hope to speak it well one day. It would be a pleasure to learn Italian with you. Would you like to teach me Italian?" in Italian?

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.

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.

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

Will my 9 year old face more difficulties than most girls her age if she’s an early bloomer? My daughter already needs regular B cup bras. The doctor says that my daughter will be even more developed by 11-12 years of age.

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

Save it for your incel group.

are either

Is it sinful for Christians to look at beautiful women?

he’d be the one to pick up.

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

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.

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First came the mental gymnastics of when to call.

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.

It’s an epidemic.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

Virgins

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