“Let Me Tell You”

At the very top of the list of claims I’m challenging—right up there with “don’t text him first”—is the idea that New York City is one of the worst places to find love .

I write this as a single, heterosexual, 34-year-old divorcée. No roster. No situationship. No crush. (Okay, maybe one. Two if I’m delusional.) Basically, no prospects. (At least not at the time of publication.)

And while you might already be rolling your eyes, waiting for the inevitable twist where this turns out to be a piece of ironic -style satire, I’m not kidding. Take my hand. We’re being earnest now.

Dating in New York is actually awesome. Not because it’s easy. (It’s not.) It’s messy and chaotic and everyone is perpetually 15 minutes late to a first date and maybe still in love with their ex.

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