The object of this hate is...well...it's me.
"There is nothing more pathetic and… alien… than a pre-menopausal aging childless woman throwing herself headlong into the chaotic vagaries of dating. When a woman doesn’t have children to nurture and raise by her early 30s she morphs rapidly into a sad and tragic creature — a shell entity of raging cynicism that can do no more than go through the motions — that no one wants to be around. Whatever is left of her innate femininity, beauty and sexiness is destroyed to dust by that point."
Sometimes I think that men feel this way, as I walk down the street and smile at a moderately attractive man, and he responds with an off-putting scowl. I think, "He thinks you're a sad, pathetic pre-menopausal woman on the prowl for sperm, and he doesn't want to encourage you with a smile," and then I think, "Oh, Al, you are being melodramatic again. We're in Minnesota. People just don't smile here."
Of course, it could be worse. I could be dating one of them.