For a long time, I thought something was wrong with me.

That I had become too demanding. Too independent. Too used to not waiting. That perhaps I was the one to blame for the fact that men stopped approaching me, stopped speaking plainly, and stopped taking that very first step—the one that once made my whole world turn upside down.

And then I realized: it wasn't even about me.

I just felt a sense of bitterness.

It’s bitter to watch a man spend hours looking at your photo—maybe leaving a "like," though not even that always happens...

...writing some cautious phrase—though apparently not on this site...

...then deleting it, logging back on—and that’s the extent of his courage.

He is afraid of rejection.

Afraid of seeming intrusive.

Afraid of hearing "no."

Afraid of not being appreciated.

What else are the men of today afraid of?

And so, he hides behind a screen—behind funny memes, behind "likes," behind an endless "maybe sometime later."

Meanwhile, the woman is afraid, too.

But for some reason, no one ever thinks about that.