What happens when a middle-aged woman writes down her thoughts on the dating market and publishes them as a warning? The usual reaction occurs: people get stirred up. A message circulating on social media claims that if men do not change their relationship dynamics, women of their generation will opt for celibacy or relationships with other women. This thesis is not new, but the tone—a mix of prophecy and ultimatum—has sparked a conversation blending domestic economics, demographics, and generational reckoning.
The majority reaction has not been male honor defense, but something more prosaic: a mix of indifference and mockery. "I am willing to take that risk," summarizes one of the most repeated responses. Another phrases it with more wit: "Let them become lesbians and bother each other." The underlying argument is that the threat fails because there is nothing to negotiate: if the counterpart has already left the market, the warning loses its deterrent power.
The calculation no one signs: age 40, rationed sens, and no children
The core of the rejection is less ideological than accounting-based. Several messages build an explicit economic reasoning: after 40, a woman who has not had children or secured a young partner loses the two assets that, according to this reading, sustained the traditional pact. "A woman who does not provide youth, offspring, and fidelity past 40 faces this panorama," states one participant. Sens—even if rationed—does not bind anyone by itself, they conclude.
This is a brutal thesis, formulated without anesthesia, and should be read as what it is: an analytical current that reduces partnership to an exchange of assets with expiration dates. In this logic, the woman's warning is not a credible threat but the confirmation of her own problem. "The risk you run is not risk, it is certainty: you will disappear and they won't," another message states. The underlying idea is demographic: if a group does not reproduce, its capacity to shape the future dies with it.
The 'celibate' who admits visiting two prostitutes
Here comes the involuntarily comic moment. A participant declares himself celibate and, in the same sentence, clarifies that he visited two sens workers that day, first one then the other. "And life is great, you'll see," he adds. The contradiction—celibacy understood as renouncing a stable partner, not paid sens—generated a string of replies: "So I'm also celibate, damn it," responds another. A third raises the stakes: "I've been celibate for years, I became a priest, and today three fell for it."
Beyond the joke, the episode reveals a real fracture in how male loneliness is understood: some distinguish between having no partner and having no sensual access, while others consider that distinction a semantic trap. The anecdote, repeated and expanded in several messages, functions as an argument: if the dating market is broken, everyone seeks solutions through parallel paths, some perfectly legal and perfectly sad.
The comparison closing the matter: the woman who marries at 19
The counterpoint is provided by a message presented as personal experience: a man married at 19 to a Colombian woman, with a common child, describing her as hardworking, a good mother, and without what he calls 'feminista radical' traits. "To this day, the best decision of my life," he concludes. The anecdote is not isolated: other messages insist that migrant women "raise kids cheaply while driving for their husbands" and that, in one generation, the non-reproducing Spanish woman disappears from the map.
Caution is needed here. What exists is a biased comparison between two models of women, not verified demographic data. The claim that an entire group goes extinct in one generation is a bar-stool hypothesis, not a statistical projection. But as a hypothesis, it circulates strongly, explaining why many read the initial warning not as a threat but as a disguised surrender.
What if the problem is that no one wants to change anything?
The question running deep is not whether women will end up celibate or lesbian, but why the warning is framed as an ultimatum and received as a threat. The repeated answer is that both sides have turned relationships into a power struggle, and neither wants to move first. "They should come approach us and ask for dates like we men do," suggests one message. "Don't we live in equality?" it concludes.
And there it stays. No agreement, no conclusion, no change of heart. The warning will keep circulating, men will continue assuming the risk with a smile, and the women who signed it will likely keep waiting for someone to change. No one will. It is the comfortable option.
Summary of a discussion on Burbuja.info - Foro de economía, actualidad y política., translated from Spanish and reviewed before publication.
Read the full discussion (139 replies).
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