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【永利国际网站】网上交友要自信

十月 7th, 2019  |  两性健康

据总结二零零七-二〇一〇年的七年间,有近三分之一的U.S.夫妇是在英特网认知的。网络交友除了安全问题之外,比较令人不放心的相应是网络的个人资料和小编的异样太大。英特网汉子说自个儿是李铁牛,见了面才开采她骨子里是李鬼。实际上,那些顾忌也许无需。前段时间刊登在Computers
in Human
Behavior期刊上的钻研展现,女人可以单凭网络的个人资料,就会选出现实生活中相比有魔力的娃他爸,以致无需看她们的相片。永利国际网站 1布Rees班维拉诺瓦大学(Villanova
University in
Philadelphia)的研商人口以50多名女子为斟酌对象,让他们对某名牌交友网址100名男子填写的个人资料和相片分别张开评估,并说出在他们心中中,那一个男士值得约会、一夜情或长期交往。研商的结果让人吃惊:女子在那上头好多有第六感觉。比很多女性在没占星片在此以前,仅凭阅读男士写的个人资料,就可以把出色的帅哥挑选出去。换一句话说,现实生活中魔力稍逊,想透过互连网自欺欺人的男士,在英特网交友也一致处于劣点。钻探者以为,自信是老头子个人资料吸引女人的基本点。实际生活上,条件比较好的夫君基本上比较自信,这种自信也一模二样呈现在网络他填写的个人资料上。那一个探讨给爱人的诱导大概是:喜欢嫌恶,今世人生活节奏越来越快,网上交友,找你生活的另八分之四已经是大事所趋。现实社会中原则不很了不起的男子,真的能够,编的承认感,在网络填写个人资料时应尽量彰显出男人的自信。唯有这么才有希望增添和女方汇合、互连网交友和婚姻成功的空子。祝天下有恋人终成眷属!原文:

Would Romeo and Juliet be matched online?


  1. The average courtship for married couples that meet online is
    approximately18.5 months
  2. The average courtship for married couples that meet offline is
    approximately42 months
  3. In 2010 the worldwide online dating industry is worth $4 billion
  4. In 2009 17 % of married couples met online
  5. 1 in 5 singles have dated online
  6. 1 in 5 singles in serious relationships met their partners online
  7. USA has approximately 40 million online dater. China has 140 million
    onlinedaters largest in the world.

By Howard Axelrod


IN A cluttered studio apartment on the outskirts of Verona, Romeo sits
down at his desk and picks up his quill. His best friend Benvolio has
been at him again. Time is running out for marriage, Benvolio has said,
and there’s only one cure for his latest heartbreak. Online dating.

Resigned, his handsome brow furrowed, Romeo scratches and blots his way
through a profile. “By a name, I know not how to tell thee who I am,” he
begins, “nor am I equally at ease in jeans or formal wear.” Then, in
spite of himself, he continues, “I cherish jousts of words, and jousts
of love, and those who romance beyond words.” Not entirely appalled, he
opens his Mac, takes poetic license with his height and build, adds a
selfie shot in the bathroom mirror, and prays for the best.

Meanwhile, across town, Juliet has just logged in. Through her 20s she
swore, especially to her mother, that marriage was an honor she dreamed
not of, but with tenure now a lock at the university, her Facebook news
feed overwhelmed with friends’ photos of weddings and babies, and her
remaining Netflix options grown chidingly thin, she has begun to long
for a partner.

The numbers suggest Romeo and Juliet are doing the right thing. In the
United States — let’s assume they’re in Verona, N.Y. — roughly 100
million people are single, and about 40 million people have tried online
dating. The superabundance of potential matches is new. In 1950, only 22
percent of American adults were single, but now the figure is nearly 50
percent. Also new, perhaps due the increasing role of technology in
American life, is that the stigma of online dating is largely gone. In
2013, a Pew Research study found that 59 percent of Americans agreed
with the statement: “Online dating is a good way to meet people.”

But does an increase in options, and an increased ability to navigate
those options, actually increase the likelihood of finding love? What
impact does the online-consumer model — a virtual warehouse of potential
partners, stocked according to an algorithm designed to suit your stated
tastes — have on forming a committed relationship?

For one thing, Romeo and Juliet wouldn’t find each other today.
Shakespeare’s star-crossed lovers met at a masquerade, which meant a
party’s limited options and almost no information about each other,
except the touch of Romeo’s hand and the heated flirtation of their
words. But today’s Romeo and Juliet have a shopper’s catalogue of
choices and set their search parameters to find exclusively what they’re
looking for. And given the centuries-old feud between the Montagues and
the Capulets, they’re not looking for each other. Perhaps Romeo, like
most of the Montagues, is short; perhaps Juliet, like most of the
Capulets, is a bit stout. In person, they find many types of people
attractive. But with online dating, given the option to rule out the
short and the stout, they do.

Which raises another question: Does a more bounded context, with fewer
choices and less sense of control, help us with what the theologian
William F. May calls “an openness to the unbidden?” And, even more
complicated, do the greatest love affairs come from finding what we’re
looking for, or from finding what we don’t know to look for — from the
alchemy that flares when the unbidden happens to find us?

As with most questions of love, there are no easy answers. But these
questions do prompt an important distinction between great love affairs
and great committed relationships, which may not entirely overlap with
each other. For securing the latter, many of the singles I asked said
they find Internet dating helpful. They prefer a large pool of prospects
and the power to vet those prospects in advance. Granted, certain
indignities can result from the efficiency approach: One friend told me
she felt like a horse whose teeth her date was inspecting before
purchase; another said she feels like she’s dating everyone and no one
at the same time. But for the privilege of casting a wide net, and of
not having to catch a stranger’s eye in public when he’s likely looking
at his phone anyway, online daters endure.

For great love affairs, though, having so much control may not be as
helpful. It’s hard to start a fire with a checklist and an algorithm. No
one trusts love at first click.

But sometimes online dating outfoxes itself. About six months ago, a man
from Los Angeles was passing through Logan airport; his smartphone
geo-located him; his OkCupid account included a South Boston woman’s
profile as a possible match. Bored waiting for his plane, he looked. She
saw he’d looked. By the time she messaged him, he was back in LA.
Neither one was interested in a long-distance relationship — their
search parameters said as much — but they started messaging. Eventually,
they went offline and started writing letters. Maybe not with quills,
but with paper and ink. “I was 30 years old,” she said, “and he was the
first man to send me flowers.”

This fall he’s moving to Boston. They’ve already met each other’s
family. Theirs is a modern love story — one of both control and the
unbidden, one of both playing the averages and following an exception.
May all online daters be so lucky.


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