No Red Flags Here: 34-Year-Old Man In Sharehouse Says Women Are The Reason He Can’t Find Love

BRISBANE, QLD: Local 34-year-old Andrew Kershaw, who currently lives in a six-person West End sharehouse where the microwave door has to be held shut with one hip, has confirmed that women are the main reason he has been unable to maintain a serious romantic relationship.

Kershaw made the announcement from the front porch of the Queenslander he shares with two hospitality workers, a German backpacker, a 27-year-old crypto trader, someone named Mads who may or may not still live there, and a man who keeps a drum kit in the laundry for reasons no one has been emotionally strong enough to challenge.

“It’s just hard out there for men who actually have standards,” Kershaw said, standing beside a shoe rack containing one dress shoe, three thongs, and a helmet that belongs to nobody. “Women say they want someone real, but then the second they see you still have four housemates, suddenly they’re obsessed with stability.”

According to Kershaw, his most recent relationship ended after just nine weeks when his girlfriend, 31-year-old marketing coordinator Jess, began exhibiting what he described as “controlling behavior,” including asking whether he had any plan to eventually live without a stranger sleeping behind a curtain in the sunroom.

“That’s how it starts,” Kershaw said. “First it’s ‘Do you want to get your own place one day?’ Then it’s ‘Can you please stop leaving your wet towel on the beanbag?’ Then before you know it, you’re being forced into some sterile life where every fork matches and people know what day the bins go out.”

Kershaw said women today have been ruined by unrealistic expectations from social media, therapy, podcasts, and friends who own bed frames.

“Back in the day, people cared about connection,” he said. “Now everyone wants a man with a lease in his own name and sheets that aren’t from a music festival sponsor. It’s all very transactional.”

Friends say Kershaw has struggled in the dating scene for several years, despite describing himself on apps as “emotionally intelligent,” “not like other guys,” and “living unconventionally by choice.” His profile photos include one image from 2018 in which he is wearing a linen shirt at a wedding, one blurry photo holding a fish that he did not catch, and one bathroom mirror selfie where a half-open cupboard reveals enough personal chaos to disqualify him from working near children.

His listed interests include “good banter,” “deep chats,” “not taking life too seriously,” and “building something real,” a phrase several former dates later learned means coming over to watch YouTube on his laptop because the living room TV is being used by his housemate’s indoor cricket team.

“Andrew talks a lot about wanting a woman who isn’t materialistic,” said housemate Felix, 29, while scraping dried rice from a saucepan with a butter knife. “But I think sometimes he uses the word materialistic to mean someone who doesn’t want to brush her teeth in a bathroom where there is a skateboard in the shower.”

Kershaw denies this, insisting the real issue is that modern women have lost their sense of adventure.

“A lot of women say they want spontaneity, but they don’t actually mean it,” he said. “They mean brunch spontaneity. They don’t mean ‘the landlord is coming at 7 a.m. so can you hide these extra mattresses in your car’ spontaneity.”

Several women who have dated Kershaw described a pattern in which his early charm quickly gave way to a strange domestic ecosystem that required them to adapt to his life without receiving evidence that he had adapted to anything since 2016.

“He was funny, and at first the house seemed kind of fun,” said one former date, who asked to be identified only as Lauren because Andrew still has her KeepCup. “Then I realized the fun part was just seven adults collectively pretending the fridge smell was a personality.”

Lauren said the final straw came when Kershaw invited her over for dinner and then served two different Uber Eats leftovers in bowls he described as “share plates.”

“He told me he was in a transitional phase,” she said. “Then one of his housemates walked through the kitchen wearing a towel and asked if the chicken in the sink was anyone’s. I remember thinking, this transition has been happening for a very long time.”

Kershaw rejects the suggestion that his living situation may affect his dating life, arguing that women should value authenticity over arbitrary signs of adulthood such as privacy, clean grout, and being able to walk from a bedroom to a toilet without meeting a stranger named Bryce.

“Honestly, I think women are intimidated by men who don’t follow the script,” he said. “I’m not some boring guy with a mortgage and a beige couch. I have stories. I have community. I have a roommate who once got us free kombucha for six months because he found a loophole in an app.”

At press time, Kershaw’s room contained a mattress on the floor, a Kmart clothing rack, four unread books about discipline, an acoustic guitar with one broken string, a framed poster for a band he no longer listens to, and a small pile of receipts he described as “admin.”

When asked what he brings to a relationship, Kershaw cited humor, honesty, emotional availability, and “a pretty good understanding of the female psyche,” though he later clarified that his understanding was based mostly on dating app screenshots sent to a group chat called Boys Department.

“The thing women don’t get is that men mature differently,” he said. “We’re on our own timeline.”

Kershaw added that his timeline currently includes starting a business, getting back into climbing, fixing his sleep schedule, moving to Berlin for six months, possibly doing a teaching degree, and eventually finding someone who appreciates him before he has been changed by “society’s boring little checklist.”

Despite the setbacks, Kershaw remains optimistic. He recently updated his dating profile to say he is “done with games,” a declaration friends say came three hours after he matched with a 24-year-old and sent her a voice note explaining why women over 30 have “too much trauma.”

“I’m ready for something serious,” he said. “I just need to meet a woman who understands that a real man can’t be boxed in by conventional expectations.”

Moments later, Kershaw paused the interview to text the house group chat asking who had moved his air fryer basket.

“See, this is what I’m talking about,” he said. “Women want communication, but they don’t want to deal with a man who has a lot going on.”