Charlotte

I remember my first corporate job — the lanyard, the nods, the promise of stability. But within months, the excitement faded. The work that was meant to give life meaning felt hollow, a rigged game turning hope into profit. What I once called burnout, I now see as mourning: a quiet grief for the world we were promised, and the realization that perhaps we were never meant to win.

Each year, women flock to NYC chasing a montage dream, but 2025 brings a romantic recession. Men outsource effort, dating feels like a bad investment, and women hedge emotional capital. Some opt out, some keep trying, but all are reassessing the cost of connection. In a world of ghosting and misfires, intimacy with The Modern Man feels risky—and women are choosing to invest in what actually pays dividends.

Happy Monday, folks. It's approximately ten degrees Celsius here in the 212, accompanied by a spring drizzle and gusts of wind. All girls...