In my 20s ‘treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen’ felt like power. In my 50s I see that dating strategy for what it is: fear

I am capable, a woman of substance. Yet I get a ‘maybe’ from a man I meet on a dating app and I regress three decades

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I was raised on the scripture of the 1990s: Treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen. It was the Golden Rule. The dating equivalent of Slip, Slop, Slap. Whispered at sleepovers. Bolded in the margins of Dolly magazine. Never pick up on the first ring. Never say you’re free on a Saturday. Be the prize, not the contestant.

In my 20s, this felt like power. (It was mostly fear in better lighting but I didn’t know that yet.) I mastered breezy indifference. I timed my texts to the minute: double the time he took, plus 10 for mystery. I thought I was teaching men my value. I thought I was training them to love me.

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