When Samantha Streamer ended a yearslong relationship last fall, she logged into a dating app, hoping to find someone great amid the many profiles. So far, it’s just been an exercise in frustration.

“It’s just terrible,” said Streamer, 55, who lives in Damascus. She’s met one or two suitable people, but there’s always the unfortunately familiar slog that comes with the apps: the badly written introductions, the obviously old photos, the hamster wheel of strained two-word responses.

As Valentine’s Day approaches, people in our age range sometimes wonder if it’s better to avoid Cupid altogether since the dude’s arrows seem to be broken. There are a lot of reasons for sitting out, including less romantic prospects in general since many of our contemporaries have long been partnered.

At this point, we have otherwise full lives and our own money. It would be nice to have somebody, but sometimes it seems like a full-time job and the pay sucks.

“It’s like going through the clearance rack at TJ Maxx,” said Leyla Krikor, 49, of Burtonsville. “Sometimes there’s a diamond in the rough, but there’s a lot of stuff to get through.”

Is it time, as an infamous book of romantic advice once suggested, to kiss dating goodbye?

I’ve considered many times walking away from the whole process — or at least the apps, where my experience has been equivalent to a dumpster on fire in a river full of sludge and rabid otters.

“It’s wild in these streets,” confirmed my friend Angela Washington, 53, of Gwynn Oak. Like me, she’s a busy single adoptive mother of younger kids. “My heart is always open. But as far as actively dating, I don’t have the energy. I get so much of a better outcome from my interpersonal relationships than the stress that sometimes comes from dating. If I met someone I thought I vibed with, I would be open to it. But I want quality, not a lot of small talk in your inbox.”

Between the “Golden Bachelor” franchise that most recently starred Marylander Joan Vassos and Netflix’s “The Later Daters,” dating over 50 is having a moment. But we know it’s so much easier to find potential matches when there’s a producer picking them.

According to a 2023 Pew Research Center study, 20% of people ages 50 to 65 have been on dating sites. I’m an almost 54-year-old widow who was supposed to be celebrating her 15th wedding anniversary this month, not sitting on Bumble doing what Streamer calls “doomscrolling.”

After a string of pleasant but unserious recent relationships, a friend asked what I was looking for. Answer: an intellectual, romantic and physical connection with a financially and emotionally stable man who doesn’t need saving. I don’t need or really want to be married and have to share money or living space. I have no desire for hookups or younger guys looking for sugar mamas or, in some cases, somewhere to have Thanksgiving dinner.

“We are not looking for fathers for our children or financial security,” Streamer said, which means men have to bring more to the table than just being the breadwinner. Women our age already have their own bread.

My friend Jay Zeager in Florida, also in his 50s, has his own bread and some very cool gigs, including as the PA announcer for the Miami Marlins' spring training and as a licensed benefit auctioneer whose work sometimes takes him to Baltimore. He admits to not caring about ”red flags" as a young man, but now that he’s older and more secure, he has to balance wanting to be with someone on his own terms with the hassle of looking.

“I’ve gotten lazy,” he said. ”I don’t feel like getting dressed up.” Then again, being single at our age has its own set of anxieties. “What kind of scares me is, ‘If I die, nobody’s gonna discover me for four days.‘ ”

Those are the stakes: clinging to any available internet weirdo or dying alone. The societal pressure to settle is strong at a time when our boundaries have never been more solid. Streamer said it’s hard to avoid the constant commodification of modern romance like expensive dating coaches and matchmakers. “When my Bumble membership expired, I got a lot of likes and I thought, ‘You want me to resubscribe, so you’re pushing my profile out.‘ You think ‘let me just go look! Maybe the guy’s in there …' for $17.99 a week! Nah.”

But there is hope somewhere in the middle, said Alan Merenbloom, 57, of Timonium. He divorced decades ago and has had a few subsequent long-term relationships, including one that ended in late 2023. “I had to get my head around having to start dating,” he said, so he went on several different apps. He put the effort in, creating a long but delightful profile. One highlight: “I’m a Maryland Jew: no pork but crabs are fine.” But rather than committing to settling, he decided to adjust his expectations.

“My hypothesis is that many people want an instant flame, and if it’s not good enough, they won’t give you date number two,” said Merenbloom, who is now dating a lovely woman he met online. “The biggest thing, if they weren’t bad, at least try for a second date.”

That seems like good advice, though I reserve the right to leave during the first date if it is indeed bad. (We’re old enough to know the difference.) For the time being, I’m breaking up with the apps and vowing to leave my house more. Maybe I’ll meet someone organically.

As far as Valentine’s Day plans go, Krikor is setting out on a trip to Honduras with friends, with one important treat in tow.

“I bought myself the big heart of chocolates myself,” she said.