Male Loneliness Epidemic, My Ass.
Male loneliness epidemic? Put your beer down.
You want to “end the male loneliness epidemic”? Cool. Put your beer down. Walk onto the dance floor. Stop lurking in the corner like someone kidnapped you and forced you to attend a 2000s dance party.
Because last night I went to one of those glorious 2000s dance parties. You know the kind.
Kelly Clarkson is screaming “Since U Been Gone.”
Women are feral (complimentary). Someone is living their best life in a full bright-red pimp costume. The vibe is immaculate.
And then… I looked around.
Not all men. Not even close. There were men in our group having a great time. There were men around the room actually participating in joy like it’s not a prohibited substance.
But there were also, like, three to five little packs of dudes on the perimeter.
Holding their beers.
Barely nodding to the beat.
Watching.
Lurking.
Giving “I’m too cool to be here” while literally choosing to be there.
And the wildest part? They stayed there. Then a bunch of them left.
Meanwhile, me and my single girlfriends are doing what single girlfriends do. We’re scoping the room. We’re doing the polite little “drive-by” walk past the cute guys.
And we walked by one group that, on paper, had some cute guys.
And my brain went: They just look… boring.
And THAT is why I’m not buying this “male loneliness epidemic” storyline the way it’s being sold. Because what I’m seeing in real life is not a loneliness epidemic. It’s a bare minimum epidemic.
If you want connection, give connection.
Here’s the part that makes women want to scream into a throw pillow: the unspoken expectation is always on us.
Look good.
Smile.
Be open.
Be approachable.
Be fun.
Don’t be too much.
Be just enough.
And then you look over and there are men contributing…
No energy.
No engagement.
No interaction.
No vibes.
Just a $17 IPA and the facial expression of a haunted Victorian child.
So, genuinely, with love and with the tiniest side of shade: Why would I come talk to you? Why would I wander over to your little corner of the room to try to coax a personality out of you like I’m doing CPR on your charisma?
If you are standing there offering nothing, it is not a mystery why you’re single. It’s math.
Men at parties: your job is not that hard.
Let me speak directly to the men in the back.
To the lurkers.
To the periphery kings.
To the “I’m not really a dancer” brigade.
Your job at the club, bar, wedding, or 2000s dance party is not that hard. You have one job. Stand there. Let your girl dance on you. Hold your drink.
That’s it.
I used to joke about this with my college boyfriend. His entire dance move was standing there with his drink up in the air while I danced on him. He did not have rhythm. He did not need rhythm. The arrangement was equitable.
But last night? Some of these men were standing like it was a hostage situation.
Like if they cracked a smile they’d lose their masculinity.
Newsflash.
You do not need choreo.
You do not need rhythm.
You do not need to be Usher.
You just need to try.
You just need to engage with the energy in the room.
You just need to look like you are enjoying being alive.
I know—it’s so hard.
Actually, please do not backflip.
And here’s the nuance. Even when a man can dance, sometimes it’s honestly too much pressure.
I do not need a backflip from you.
I do not need choreography.
I do not need you spinning me like I’m on “Dancing With The Stars” and I forgot to stretch.
The best dancers are the ones who just vibe.
No pressure. Just presence.
Sometimes when a man is too good at dancing, I get in my head like, “Oh no, now I’m about to be evaluated.” So when you say “I’m not a dancer,” cool.
But are you fun?
Are you present?
Are you even smiling?
Do you look like you’re enjoying yourself?
Because if not, do not blame women for not approaching you. Do not blame women for not engaging. Blame your lack of effort.
The “epidemic” is effort.
I understand there’s politics in the conversation around male loneliness. I understand there might be real isolation happening. But what I do not think we talk about enough is the lack of effort.
If you want partnership but you put in zero effort, you are not looking for love. You are looking for a woman to do all the work for you.
Put in some effort.
Show up with some energy.
Engage with the room you are in.
Ask someone out.
Follow through.
Be clear.
Be kind.
Have basic human decency.
Pick a date and time instead of making someone wait around while you “see what happens.”
We are not asking for magic.
We are asking for action.
