Much to the chagrin of single Denverites, the city’s nationally-recognized nickname, “Menver” — an allusion to the number of available men, ready for relationships — hasn’t withstood the test of time.
One of the earliest mentions of the Menver phenomenon was a 2006 Westword column raving about the male surplus. That still held true eight years later when Pew Research Center crowned Denver as the No. 2 metro area with the highest ratio of employed single men to single women.
But the romance appears to be over. While the city’s population breaks down statistically as 49.5% female, according to U.S. Census Bureau data (which notably doesn’t track nonbinary identities), dozens of singles of different genders, ages and sexualities told The Denver Post that their experiences dating men have predominantly fallen flat since the COVID-19 pandemic. And the popularity of dating apps, including Tinder, Bumble and Hinge, hasn’t helped by mechanizing the process.
Most Denverites are certain the problem is contained within city boundaries, but dating experts from other parts of the country confirm that now is a difficult time for romance across the board. Still, not all hope is lost: A WalletHub study on best and worst cities for singles placed Denver as third best out of almost 200 cities, falling behind Seattle and Las Vegas. Meanwhile, the bottom three were Plano, Texas; Gilbert, Ariz.; and Fremont, Calif.
Ashley Hughes, 38, remembers when the city’s Menver reputation proved to be true, with “a lot [of men] to choose from.” The North Dakota native first moved to Denver in 2011 at 25 years old. “Back in my 20s, dating was way easier,” Hughes said in a phone interview. “I probably should have taken it more serious.”
Then, Hughes — a straight and single woman — would go out with friends, and get courted by men who would ask them on dates. “As I got older, people do not approach you anymore,” she said. “The effort is so low.”
Since 2020, she’s noticed a degradation of the dating scene. Years of isolation negatively impacted people’s social skills, Hughes said. She intermittently uses the apps, but, ultimately, blames them for making interactions with potential suitors more ingenuine.
“Man, if apps could go away for just a little bit, people might actually speak to each other again,” Hughes said.
While her friends living elsewhere in the U.S. also experience dating woes, Hughes said it’s a constant topic of conversation among Denver women.
One day, she’d like to marry a conversational, open-minded and reliable man. “I move back to the Midwest; I could probably get married right away,” Hughes laughed.
‘Dating has just gotten harder’
Matchmaker Heidi Champlain, 59, makes a living by pairing singles — typically aged between 30s and 50s — throughout metro Denver. Working with matchmaking and social club SHIFT, Champlain collects information from both parties. Then, she connects them, “and we see if it’s a match.”
At SHIFT events, she’s crowdsourced answers from attendees in anonymous polls, which give Champlain deeper insight into their perspectives. A recent question: How would you like a member of the opposite sex to let you know that they’re interested?
“Every single man has said they want a woman to come up to them and let them know that they are interested,” Champlain said in a phone interview. On the other hand, “women would love it if a man would come up to them, and just smile, say hello and start a conversation.”
A single woman herself, Champlain pointed to “a lot of confusion across the board” — and Denver’s “laid back” attitude isn’t helping to improve that communication.
Denver counts as one of the top five markets for Girls Gotta Eat, a comedy podcast about dating, sex and relationships, so co-hosts Rayna Greenberg, 38, and Ashley Hesseltine, 40, hear from thousands of women about the city’s dating scene. Greenberg also got a personal taste of it in a previous relationship with a Denverite.
Based in Los Angeles, the pair has long been familiar with the Menver phenomenon. They even know women who moved to Denver with the intention of finding partners. Hesseltine joked, “Oh, it’s this land of men — just go and have your pick.”
But “the pandemic impacted everybody in every city,” she said in a phone interview. For Generation Z in particular, she wonders how missing out on several formative years of adulthood could have potentially stunted people emotionally, socially and more.
In the post-COVID era, Greenberg and Hesseltine said they’ve heard a shift in how people frame Denver’s dating dynamics. Common grievances from their listeners include noncommittal behavior by men who are more interested in finding skiing and hiking buddies than girlfriends.
But like others, they don’t think Denver is the issue. “Dating has just gotten harder in general,” Greenberg said. One Mile High City perk: “It’s the perfect city to, like, leave the house, do activities, say yes to everything, and you actually meet so many people through that,” she added.
Sarah Rice, an associate marriage and family therapist, encounters “a ton of available, ready, willing, open people, who are looking for relationships” — although they may be seeking them in the wrong places. She recommends ditching the dating apps in favor of in-person and virtual gatherings; the social media platform Meetup is one avenue to find these events, she said.
“Dating can be difficult if you’re not going to the places or participating in activities with people that are people you want to date,” said Rice, 37, who hosts the mental health podcast, This Changes Everything.
She also advises being up front from the very beginning about expectations. “There’s this expectation that everybody just wants to hook up,” she said. “But if you are looking for more than that, you can say you’re looking for more than that.”
Above all else, she encourages singles to “believe that you are deserving of love. That energy of loving yourself so much and then wanting to share that with somebody else will attract people who are like that.”
Is it easier for LGBT+ men?
For the record, it’s not an easy feat to lock down a boyfriend as a gay man either.
Before moving to Denver from Houston in June, Jon Bumann, 29, learned about its Menver stereotype. After going on a few dates, he doesn’t think it holds true anymore. Bumann has instead met Denverites who don’t want to settle down quite yet.
What feeds into this laissez-faire mindset? The city’s “transitory spirit” and the paradox of choice, he said. “You’ve kind of got too many options,” Bumann added. That’s the opposite of his experience in Texas where he found others quick to commit to serious relationships.
Looking forward, he’s certain he’ll find his ideal man: an active, fun explorer who wants “to build a life together.”
Eugene D. Howard, 55, is also facing trouble navigating the dating scene as a gay man in search of his “equal.”
Since his divorce, he’s spent the last three years reorienting himself among Denver singles. The Midwesterner largely spent his early bachelor years in Atlanta — “completely awesome for a gay 20-year-old,” he said in a phone interview. But Howard has realized that, today, “our social interactions are different than they were 20-plus years ago.”
When he goes out on the town, he’s typically surrounded by younger individuals, many of whom are preoccupied with their phones. “Just making friends can be challenging,” Howard said. “Most of my friends in my social circle are married people, raising children.”
On the apps, he’s learned about relationship practices that were previously unfamiliar to him, like polyamory, which is growing more mainstream in 2024. “If two people can navigate those approaches in healthy ways, then fine, that’s great,” Howard said. “I just don’t know if it’s for me.”
Still, the self-proclaimed optimist believes “there’s got to be at least one person out there for me.”
‘When the timing is right’
“I bet it would be really great to be in Denver and be a single gal here,” Elissa Jane Mastel, 54, recalls thinking when she resettled here as an empty-nester four years ago.
After taking time to heal from her last relationship, she joined the apps, but ran into scams and fake accounts. Mastel has also had to fend off younger guys who only seek her out for her age. Now, she’s taking a break.
Among Colorado men, Mastel’s encountered “a level of extreme.” She describes them as “so hooked on the adrenaline life that they’re not touching down to make some time for connection.”
Mastel, who identifies as pansexual, has also “definitely struggled to meet women here,” too — an easier task in her home state of New York.
“People come here to reinvent themselves, and maybe reinventing themselves doesn’t include having a committed partner,” she said in a phone interview.
Mastel enjoys hiking and camping, so she’s looking for an age-appropriate life partner to remain active with her. For now, she’s leaning on her strategy of passing out her business card to potential matches at concerts and ski resorts. One tip: Mastel has met attractive men in the lemonade aisle of Whole Foods Market at 1701 Wewatta St.
At the end of the day, she remains positive. “It is possible to meet someone when the timing is right. It doesn’t matter if you’re in Denver or outer space.”
