Men vs. Boys: The Difference is in the Delivery

I was having a conversation with a good friend yesterday about possibly moving to a new city—somewhere with more opportunities, more things to do, and maybe even better odds at finding love. My experience dating in Orlando has been… exhausting. I don’t know if it’s the city or the kind of men I attract, but I seem to keep finding what my friend calls “boys.”

About a month ago, I met someone in his 40s at a professional conference. He was established, confident, and surrounded by other like-minded adults who had their lives together. And that day, he made it clear—he wanted me. The whole experience opened my eyes to not only new opportunities, but also a new standard for how I should be treated.

Here’s the biggest difference:
👉🏽 Men know what they want and aren’t afraid to say it.
👉🏽 Boys want to play games.

Recently, I reconnected with someone I used to date (yes, I know… masochist tendencies). We hung out a couple of times, and he hit me with, “You’re amazing, we should get married.” And silly me—I thought he meant it.

Then this morning, I open Facebook and BAM—he’s in a relationship. Not with me, obviously. WTFreak?! Man up. If you’re seeing someone else, just say that. I promise I won’t be mad—I’m not that girl. I’ll respect you way more for your honesty than for hiding behind your relationship status like I wouldn’t find out.

If I have enough confidence as a woman to tell someone they’re not for me, then I expect the same integrity in return. Yes, I’m outspoken. Yes, I don’t tolerate BS. And yes, I speak my mind. But those are the very traits that build strong relationships. There’s no mystery here—I know that honesty is the foundation of something real. (Unless, of course, you’re keeping secrets because you’re planning to surprise me with jewelry. Then, carry on. 😏)

At the end of the day, the key to a great relationship is communication. Be real. Be clear. Be a man.

Downtown Duesche

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There’s a certain breed of guy I absolutely despise: the Downtown Douche. You know the type—lives downtown, is always out, and forever on the hunt. Last week, out of sheer boredom, I texted someone I’d been talking to on and off. I had a feeling he was cocky, so I’d been dodging the meetup, but he invited me to a familiar bar where I know the manager. I figured, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Well.

When I arrived, I didn’t see him right away. I waited at the bar for ten minutes before realizing he’d been sitting behind me the whole time. Great start. He walked me over to his table, offered a drink (vodka tonic, naturally), and a shot. And then came the usual: “You’re so hot.” Sigh. He casually mentioned he lived downtown, and I joked, “Well at least you don’t have to drive.” That’s when the hands started. Everywhere.

He leaned in and said I should just go home with him—because I was drinking. Excuse me? If there’s one rule I live by, it’s this: never go home with a guy on the first night. That’s how you end up with a one-night stand and a blocked number.

He kept going on about his apartment, his view, his car—like I cared. I wasn’t impressed. I need connection, humor, something to keep my attention. Honestly, my ADD was about to kick in. If a bunny rabbit had run across the bar, I would’ve chased it just to escape the conversation.

Eventually, he asked what I thought of him. I told him the truth: You come off like an asshole. He smirked, then told me I was probably insecure—because I was people-watching. Yep, he really said that. I was floored. He left for the bathroom and his very conveniently placed wingman slid into the seat next to me. I knew what was happening.

When Mr. Downtown came back, he didn’t even look at me. He was flirting with another girl at the bar. So I leaned into his friend, said I had to use the bathroom (lie), and walked straight out the front door.

Here’s the thing: this kind of guy isn’t looking for connection. He’s looking for someone naïve enough to fall for his flash. The condo, the cocktails, the charm—all designed to get you into his bed. He won’t ask about your day, your passions, or your dreams. He’s not interested in you.

I texted him later, just to see if I was right: “I left because it felt like you just wanted to get laid.”
He replied: “Yes.”
Case closed.

The Younger Man: Why I Trust My Experience Over Empty Promises

When I meet someone new, I try to give them the benefit of the doubt. After all, I don’t know their habits, their story, or what they've been through. But that doesn’t mean I let all my walls down. I keep my guard up and only reveal just enough of myself—especially when it comes to younger men.

They always say the same thing:

“You’re different.”

And every time, I choose to give them a fair shot. I allow them the space to pursue me—to show me they’re serious. But the truth is, I’ve never been proven wrong from my original theory:

A younger man will always be a younger man.

Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m not saying this from a place of ego or superiority. But I’ve lived through some hard things. Life has matured me in a way that most 24-year-olds haven’t had to experience yet.

I observe my surroundings carefully. I practice patience. And one of the things I can’t stand is when someone denies what I clearly see. Younger men often feel that admitting the truth is giving up power, when in reality, acknowledging the truth now prevents problems later.

And so, until someone proves me wrong, I’ll keep living by this belief.
Because patterns don’t lie.
And neither does intuition.

Have you dated someone younger than you? Did they prove your assumptions right—or surprise you? Let’s talk about it in the comments.