Two years and 10 days. That is exactly how long it’s been since my last SERIOUS relationship ended. I went through the typical post-break-up series of events. I was depressed, I was vengeful, I was self-improving, and finally, I was accepting.

Unfortunately, it seems while I was busy taking my sweet time to find myself, the dating world was busy losing all of its integrity.

Having recently taken the plunge back into the sea of eligible bachelors, I’ve come to realize that the single ship is a lot safer place to be.

Maybe I’m old fashioned, but I absolutely positively cannot stand or understand why a man would think it’s perfectly okay to interrogate me about my sex life on a first date.

Ask me about my major, quiz me on my family, tell me about your dog, but don’t you dare ask me “how far I’ve gone” or “if I know about the three date-rule.”

By the way, this “rule” insinuates girls should simply be expected to “put out” by the third date.

Ridiculous.

As if the expectations weren’t enough, the actions that coincide with them speak even louder than the sentiments.

I have no problem holding a man’s hand, kissing him goodnight or cuddling up with him during a movie.

I do have a problem with him thinking it is OK to turn my body into his personal wonderland while were in line at a restaurant or double dating with my friends.

When did it become okay to stop seriously getting to know people on an individual basis and start treating them like an assembly line of potential one night stands and hook-ups?

As frustrated as I am at the fact that chivalry seems to of died, I can’t place all of the blame on men. They expect it because women have consented to meet their expectations.

While I’m sure my distaste for the seemingly endless sea of dating faux pas seeps off of this page, I am still a hopeless romantic at heart.

I’ll just have to put on my life jacket before I take another dive into the dating abyss.