By: Victoria Fedden



I’ve always been “the smart one.” I get really excited for things like NPR’s “Science Friday” and when Charlie Rose has a fascinating guest. I have a terminal degree, have taught college, and once on a date I casually used the word “symbiosis” in a conversation right before I launched into a detailed discussion about plate tectonics and subduction zones.

On top of all that, I look like the stereotypical sexy librarian, glasses and all, which I have owned and feel is a positive attribute. So you’d think that with all these brains and the fact that I look halfway cute, and can confidently talk about literature, politics, history and seismic activity, that I would have had men falling all over me, right? Yeah, no.

I have a notoriously poor record with men. My pre-married dating history sounds like a Shakespearean tragedy. If my single life were a romantic comedy, I would have been the quirky sidekick who never got the hot guy.

Once men went out with me a few times, they’d usually dump me for some chick they met at the gym who worked as the shot girl in a nightclub for a living, and then they’d tell me they wanted to stay friends because I was “interesting.”

My mom always said that men were intimidated by me because they realized they had to “bring it” a little more to impress me. My intellect presented more of a challenge. I wasn’t “easy” like the Fun Girls and being around me required more of an effort.

That’s why I decided to conduct an experiment. I decided to dumb myself down, to pretend to be a little more of a “Fun Girl” to see if I would attract more men.

Before I met my husband, I was a regular on a popular online dating site, so my first step was to remove all signs of intelligence from my profile and add more sexy pictures. I kept my descriptions brief and as cliché as possibly without making myself gag.

Yes, I even said that I loved long walks on the beach and some nonsense about spontaneous travel. I deleted the whole section about how much I loved books and science, and within an hour my inbox was filled with messages, whereas before I was lucky if I got one message per day. My experiment was working already.

I responded only to college-educated professionals — your standard, clean-cut types that my mom approved of. I wondered if smart men (the kind I liked) really preferred dumb women, so in emails, I used a lot of smiley faces and kept my responses short and cutesy. On the phone, I made sure to giggle and not to expound or have strong opinions on anything.

The result? I could have gone on three dates a day. That’s how many men asked to meet me in person.

I also noticed that before, my dates would usually offer to meet over coffee but now men suddenly wanted to take me out for drinks and were quite insistent that alcohol be involved in our dates.

In person I bit my tongue, smiled and said “ohmygodwowthatissoamazing” way too much. I feigned ignorance on current events, culture, and pretty much everything, and what I realized was that the men I was dating seemed to get off on “teaching” a woman, showing her the ways of the world, and exposing her to supposedly new things, thus creating a dynamic where the man is in a superior position and the woman is clearly subordinate and relying on the man for guidance and information.

Except, no. Not to mention, three-quarters of these dudes had no idea what they were even talking about. Plus, they all seemed intent on getting me drunk, which wasn’t happening because I was too smart for that.

Story continues