For a while I stuck it out, chalking up a string of failed flings.One fellow divorcée, a woman in her 50s, ultimately decided that she’d rather be single.By evening I’d been exiled to the spare bedroom of my brother’s home in La Palma.Because my former wife is a forgiving person, the end of our 15-year union was not as acrimonious as some.But the pendulum had swung so far that almost every man I knew desired a committed relationship, and almost every woman, well, wasn’t so sure.So I wandered without a compass in the dating desert. But anything more serious seemed out of reach, a reality that left me disheartened.
But marriage has always had an economic component; throughout most of history—certainly in America, and especially in the Third World—part of what seals the deal is the perception, and sometimes the reality, that two can live better than one. I started spending evenings on the website chatting with interesting women.She’s not a bad person, but she’s unaccustomed to seeing garage parties here, especially attended by large numbers of dark-skinned people eating pigs roasted whole on a spit.“Your personal life is In a way, I appreciate her honesty. I’m a 63-year-old white male married to a beautiful woman from the Philippines more than three decades my junior.Married to a woman roughly my own age with a similar ethnic background, we had two children—a boy and a girl—whose presence in our household hardly warranted dramatic attention.About the most exotic island we ever visited was Santa Catalina. I’m not proud of this, but one day I awoke to the realization that I had become the embodiment of an American stereotype: the middle-aged husband who imagines something better over the next ridge.Aimed at fostering long-term relationships between Western men and Filipino women, the site allowed any man willing to pay a modest fee to advertise, respond to women’s ads, or engage in live video chats. Then I began noticing the stunning friendliness of the women I found there.