I'm a 22-year-old guy, but I look 14. Boomer co-workers often use me as an example of a bad millennial, attacking me for Dread Smartphone Overuse (conveniently forgetting that our work requires phone use for comms). Older co-workers often launch into unsolicited 40-minute lectures on the "college path" I should take. (Already graduated, thanks!) How can I gracefully deal with this demeaning treatment?

--Irritated

It's no surprise some of your older co-workers smear you as a "bad millennial." You're younger and cheaper to keep around, and the hair on your head isn't there thanks to a Groupon for Dr. Hair Plugs.

So, yes, some of them probably do want to stick it to you. But for a little perspective on their annoying college-splainings -- these unsolicited lectures on the value of the higher education you've already gotten -- consider my critical take on what's come to be called "mansplaining." Merriam-Webster defines this as a man's explaining "something to a woman in a condescending way that assumes she has no knowledge about the topic."

As I see it, there's a problem with this interpretation, and it's the rather victim-thinky assumption that a man's tone and line of blather are driven by his having little respect for a woman simply because she's a woman. Sure, that could be the case. However, I'm with my evolutionary psychologist friend Diana Fleischman (@sentientist), who tweeted: "There's already a word for mansplaining. It's called being patronizing. And I'm as good at it as any man."

And let's get real: Say some dude in a bar starts instructifying me (somewhat in error!) on evolutionary psychology research -- work by a researcher I know and whose papers I have been reading for going on 20 years. Chances are, Mr. Bar Dude does not have psychic powers and isn't thinking, "Ha, you big redheaded moron...I read one news story, and I already know way more than you!" He's probably just trying to sound knowledgeable and interesting to a chick in a bar.

Well, the same probably goes for your colleagues launching into these higher-ed-splainings. This doesn't mean you have to go all ear slave for them. Put your hand up -- the international sign for "would you kindly shut your big trap for a second?" -- and say, "Thanks...appreciate your wanting to help." Next, add some polite form of "Been there! Graduated that!"

You might also give some consideration to your look. I'm not saying you should wear a monocle and carry a cane, but maybe grow a little facial hair and dress and accessorize like an adult. (Yes, this means avoiding T-shirts and Spider-Man backpacks and anything else that makes you look like a 14-year-old with a beard.)

Finally, there's a little secret to getting treated as somebody's equal, and it's acting the part. If some graying co-worker makes age-related cracks about your tech usage, don't go all woundypants. Laugh and tease 'em right back -- telling them they should cut the hints and just ask you directly when they want your tech-savvy millennial help with texting nudies from their side-entry bathtub.

I'm a bisexual 29-year-old woman. I just started dating an awesome guy and ultimately see myself in a long-term hetero relationship. However, though I've only dated a girl once, I am extremely aroused by women, and now I'm struggling to get turned on with my new partner.

--Blahs

There's an elephant in the room, but unfortunately, it isn't the kind you can climb on and ride off to the nearest girlbar.

Sexual orientation, as explained by Kinsey Institute research fellow Justin Lehmiller in "Tell Me What You Want," is "the degree to which we are biologically predisposed to desiring men, women, both, or neither." There's another factor in play -- "sexual flexibility" -- which Lehmiller describes as "a willingness to deviate not only from our sexual orientation but also from what our culture and society have told us we should want when it comes to sex."

You may see yourself in that classic hetero relationship out of a '50s magazine ad -- mommy, daddy, picket fence-ie, and the rest. Unfortunately, wanting to be turned on by somebody isn't enough to make it happen. Remove the labels from the equation -- lesbian, bi, hetero -- and figure out the physical characteristics that need to be present for you to be attracted to another person. Maybe it's just this dude who doesn't work for you -- or maybe no dude would do it for you. Be honest with yourself about that -- even if it would muck up your current relationship plan. For a relationship to be viable, the thing you say to your boyfriend in bed should not be: "Hey, honey...know what would really turn me on? If you left the room and sent Felicia in here in your place."

I've been flirting with two guys all year. I feel a connection and chemistry with both, but neither's asked me out yet. This weekend, I'm attending a going-away party of a grad student we all know, and I'm nervous that they'll both show up and ask me out. (There's also a third guy who seems interested.) What should I do? I wouldn't want to be one of somebody's many options.

--Feeling Unfair

The first few dates are the free trial period of romantic relationships. Think of it like accepting a sample of lox spread at Costco. You're seeing how you like it; you aren't committing to buy a salmon hatchery.

It sounds like you instead see a date as a Wile E. Coyote-style trapdoor dropping you into a relationship. You and the guy have sex for the first time, and assuming he doesn't fake his death afterward or ditch a burner phone he's been texting you from, you two become a thing -- right on track to sign up for those cute side-by-side burial plots.

The problem is, this is like getting into a relationship with the first stranger who sits down on the bus next to you. You're skipping an essential step -- the "see who the guy is and decide" part. Even when the guy isn't just some Tinder rando -- even when you've known him for a while -- you need to see who he is as a boyfriend and how you work as a couple.

Also, making matters worse, if you're like many women, sex can act as a sort of snuff film for your objectivity, leading you to feel emotionally attached to the man you've just slept with. Psychologists Cindy Meston and David Buss speculate that this may come out of the orgasm-driven release of oxytocin, a hormone that has been associated with emotional bonding. (In men, testosterone goes all nightclub bouncer, blocking oxytocin so it can't get to its receptor.)

To keep sex from drugging away your objectivity, try something: unsexy broad-daylight dates with various guys for just a few hours each. Yes, various guys. It's not only okay to date more than one guy initially; it's ideal. (A man with rivals is a man who has to try harder.)

Meanwhile, your having options should curb any tendency you might have to go all needypants on a guy who, say, doesn't text you right back -- even if his competition's texts are more preventive distraction than romantic ideal: "What are u wearing? Also, are u good w/Excel?" Or "I know u like fashion. Here's my penis in a beret."

I'm a 35-year-old guy who's been texting with this girl. She got out of a seven-month relationship two months ago and is still kind of emotional about it. We'll make plans to go out, but she always cancels at the last minute, claiming that she's "still a mess" and adding, "Hope you understand!" Should I just keep texting with her and see where things lead?

--Limbo

Think about the guys women get stuck on -- those they can't get to text them back, not those who put out lighted signs visible from space: "iPhone's always on! Call 24/7! Pick me! Yaaay! Over here!"

Consider FOMO -- fear of missing out -- or, in scientist-speak, the "scarcity principle." That's psychologist Robert Cialdini's term for how the less available something is the more valuable (and desirable) we perceive it to be. This is not because it actually becomes more valuable but because scarcity triggers a motivational state -- a state of "grab it or lose it!"..."don't let it get away!"

Contrast that with how available you are -- to a woman who doesn't seem ready for a relationship but is up for the emotional perks that come with. So she sucks up the consoling texted attention she gets from you but ducks out of any in-person get-togethers that could eventually lead to your trying to, well, console her with your penis.

Consider shutting off the therapy spigot and making yourself scarce until she's ready to date. Tell her you want to take a timeout from texting and give her a little time to heal 'n' deal and then go on a date. Pick a night -- about a month from now -- and ask her to put it on her calendar, explaining that it's fine if she needs to reschedule if she still doesn't feel ready.

Putting it on the calendar makes it tangible -- but putting it in the future, with an option to push it forward, takes the pressure off. And your disappearing for a while is probably your best shot at shifting your, um, zoological category -- to potential "animal in bed" from emotional support animal in the Hello Kitty diaper for the plane.

My boyfriend has this irritating habit of making fun of my outfits or my spray tan. When I get upset, he says I'm being "sensitive." I try to look cute for him, and I just don't think it's funny for your boyfriend to mock your appearance. Is this his issue or mine? If it's his, how do I get him to stop?

--Unhappy

It's probably tempting to give him a taste of his own medicine: "Baby, I did not use the word 'small' in describing your penis. I called it 'adorable.'"

The reality is, beyond men's zipper zone, women are generally more sensitive to jabs about their looks. This makes sense if you look at sex differences in the qualities we evolved to prioritize in a mate. Of course, we all want a hottie if we can get one -- just as we'd take the Malibu mansion with the stable, the tennis courts, and the manservants over the basement apartment with all the charm, space, and light of a broom closet in a Dickensian orphanage.

But in mating, as in life, we tend to be on a budget. Evolutionary social psychologist Norman Li and his colleagues recognized that, and instead of asking research participants the open-ended sky's-the-limit! question "So, what do you want in a mate?" they gave them a limited "mating budget." This, in turn, forced participants to decide which traits and qualities were "necessities" and which were "luxuries."

The Li team's results echo a body of cross-cultural findings on mate preferences. Men in their study overwhelmingly deemed "physical attractiveness" a "necessity." (Consider that the female features men find beautiful correlate with health and fertility in a woman.) Meanwhile, the women they surveyed, under these "budgetary" constraints, overwhelmingly went for "status/resources" over male hottiehood. This reflects women's evolved motivation to go for men with an ability to invest in any children who might pop out after sex.

Because women coevolved with men, they are, at the very least, subconsciously attuned to men's prioritizing physical appearance in female partners. This, in turn, leads a woman's emotions to sound the alarm -- in the form of fear and hurt feelings -- when her male partner seems to find her less than lookalicious.

Explain these sex differences to your boyfriend so he can understand why you feel bad about his taunts in a way he probably doesn't from, say, putdown-fests with his dudebros. Encourage him to tactfully tell you if something in your look isn't doing it for him (and explain how to go about that). In time -- assuming he's an accidental meanie -- he should start showing a little restraint, merely blurting out "You look good enough to eat!" and not (har, har) going on to part two: "...because that spray tan makes you a dead ringer for a giant Cheeto."

I'm a woman who's very feminine and considered pretty. However, I have a deep voice -- to the point where I'm sometimes mistaken for a man on the phone. I've learned to laugh about it, but it sometimes makes me feel bad, especially when I hear a bunch of other women talking. How do people feel about women with deep voices?

--Feeling Low

Okay, so you sound like you've been smoking unfiltered cigarettes since you were 3 years old.

In social situations, nobody's mistaking you for Darth Vader in a dress. On the phone, however, they're missing the visual information. There's only the audio. In other words, those who think they're hearing a man are not making some sneering judgment about your femininity; they are simply reacting based on averages -- how, on average, women tend to have higher, chirpier voices.

On a positive note, according to research by social-personality psychologist Joey T. Cheng, women with deep voices are -- if not more likely to rule the world -- more likely to be perceived as the dames to do it. In Cheng's experiments, both women and men with low-pitched voices were viewed as more dominant and higher in social rank.

That's probably why former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, while running for office in the '70s, worked with a speech coach to deepen the pitch of her voice. This helped her make the transition from cuddly mummy to "The Iron Lady" -- as she was nicknamed by the Soviets.

Try to remember that you're a package as a person. Your voice is just part of the entire "very feminine" you. Maybe relabel your voice "sultry," like those of some of the sexiest screen babes -- for example, Scarlett Johansson and Lauren Bacall. This might help you feel a little better when you have those dismaying "Excuse me, sir. Who's calling, please?" experiences -- as a deep-voiced friend of mine recently did. "MOM! It's me. Your daughter!" she yelled into the phone.

I met somebody online, and we have a real connection, but he is agoraphobic and hasn't really left his bedroom for 10 years. I have a job and a life, so it's hard to keep up with his barrage of messages. However, it seems unfair to bail on dating him just because he has this condition. What causes agoraphobia? Is it treatable?

--Wondering

It can be really romantic to spend the entire weekend in bed with a man -- but only when you don't have to spend every other day of the month there, too.

The term "agoraphobia" starts with "agora," the word for the ancient Greek version of a ginormous open-air shopping mall and outdoor auditorium. However, agoraphobia is not simply a fear of big open spaces. Agoraphobics also fear (and avoid) unfamiliar environments and situations that leave them feeling their safety is beyond their control -- like being in a crowd of strangers with little room to move. (To an agoraphobic, a free pass to Coachella is like a coupon for a free hour of electric shocks at a CIA black site.)

Additionally, the "my duvet is my continent!" lifestyle (in severe cases of agoraphobia) can develop out of a fear of having these dreaded situations trigger a panic attack. Evolutionary psychologist and psychiatrist Randolph Nesse explains that panic, a form of fear, appears to be an "adaptive" reaction -- meaning one that evolved to protect us -- driving us to flee from "life-threatening danger." It does this by kicking off a "coordinated pattern" of changes in the body, emotions, and behavior.

In the body, panic causes your adrenaline to surge, ramping up your energy. Your lung capacity increases, and your blood flow gets redirected -- away from your brain and to your arms and legs, so you can kickbox somebody into submission or (if you got a D in ninja school) run for your life.

Mentally, panic turns you "Aaah! Lemme outta here!"-centric. As Nesse explains it, "the mind becomes focused on finding escape routes. If none are obvious, anxiety rises quickly," and there's an "overwhelming" motivation to seek shelter in protective places and be near protective people (like "trusted relatives").

If you're staring down a lion or an angry mob, this response will help you survive. And Nesse notes that "mild 'normal' agoraphobia seems" to be a reaction akin to "fear of leaving the home range in territorial animals, a situation fraught with danger in the wild." However, Nesse explains that extreme agoraphobia -- like that experienced by your friend -- seems to be an over-functioning of a survival mechanism, an excessive response leading to the avoidance of not just meaningful danger but the stuff of normal day-to-day life.

But there is hope for agoraphobics -- from research on anxiety disorders. Clinical psychologist Michelle Craske reports that the mind and body can often be successfully retrained through a form of cognitive behavioral therapy. It's called exposure therapy, and it involves a therapist gradually and repeatedly exposing a patient to something they're irrationally afraid of (like spiders, social rejection, or leaving their bedroom).

These experiences can eventually lead the patient to see that their fear is unfounded and -- in time -- to react more rationally, both consciously and in their subconscious physical reactions. So, for example, going to the grocery store would eventually give rise to the bodily reactions of any other tedious to-do list item -- as opposed to the adrenalized reactions that go with being chased down the cereal aisle by a guy with a bloody ax.

The thing is, this is a long process -- often rife with setbacks -- and you aren't this guy's doctor. As for your notion that it's unfair to nix a relationship with him because of his condition, you seem to be conflating sticking by a person you love -- that "in sickness and in health" marriage vows thing -- with doing it for a person you hope to love.

You may also be falling prey to the "sunk cost fallacy." This is a cognitive bias -- an error in reasoning -- that leads us to irrationally decide to continue an endeavor based on how much we've already invested (in, say, time and energy). But that prior investment is gone. The rational way to assess whether to continue is to see what we'd get out of any future investment.

In other words, you should only consider this guy a viable prospect for a boyfriend if you're willing to sign on for the day-to-day reality -- a relationship that takes place entirely in his bedroom, save for the occasional exotic vacation to the living room: "Uh, when you get a chance, two more pina coladas...Mom."

My friend was dying to tell her new boyfriend she loves him but waited till he said it first. She, in fact, makes that a rule. Now I have a new boyfriend. Should I just shamelessly own my feelings -- that is, tell him I love him? Or should I follow my friend's lead?

--Hating Waiting

We have this notion that it's really romantic for a couple to say "I love you" pronto: "The moment he/she sat down at the bus stop next to me, I just knew!" In reality, "love at first sight" tends to come with some issues, such as the failure to weed out any insta-beloveds who kiss like big-lipped fish.

Your desire to go all blurtypants on the guy likewise seems romantic -- until you consider the psychological mechanics behind it. Chances are, you're in a state of psychological tension -- all fired up with suspense at how the guy will respond -- and only by telling him will you finally get relief. (It's basically the emotional version of really, really needing to pee.)

Research on sex differences in "parental investment" by evolutionary biologist Robert Trivers suggests that it's probably a bad idea for you, as a woman, to go first with the ILY. Trivers explains that in species like ours, in which females get stuck with the burden of parental care (should sex lead to the creation of toddlers), they evolved to vet males for ability and willingness to invest -- more than that initial teaspoonful of sperm, that is. Men coevolved to expect this -- to expect to have to prove themselves to women to get sex. In short, men chase; women choose.

Sure, there are couples out there in which the woman chased and things ended up just fine. But those evolved differences in male and female psychology are still driving us -- even now, in our world of smartphones, facial recognition software, and, before long, family vacations in flying minivans.

In other words, you're taking a risk by tossing out the ILY first -- possibly causing the guy to want you less than if you let him take the lead in ILY blurtations. And hi, feminists! I can hear the flicking of your lighters as you ready your pitchforks and hay. But the way I see it, what should be feminist is acknowledging what seems to be the optimal approach for women per research on human psychology.

Despite the risks, you may decide to be that rebel gazelle that chases the lion. If so, why not go all the way? Pull out your man's chair for him in restaurants. Put your jacket over his shoulders on a cold night. And be the one who goes downstairs with the baseball bat when there's a weird noise at 3 a.m. As he cowers in bed, reassure him: "Baby, you just stay there in your nightie...I got this."

My fiancee dumped me three months ago. I was devastated, but I've come to realize that we shouldn't be together. Now she keeps pressing for us to meet, saying there's stuff she needs to "process." I was finally starting to get over her, but should I just go?

--Torn

Getting together with your ex-fiancee after you've finally started to move on is like being just out of rehab and reconnecting with a friend: "What could be the harm? A nice pastrami on rye with my old heroin dealer!"

Your brain, like an air-conditioned Miami mansion, is "expensive" to run, so it tries to go on autopilot (basically nonthink mode) whenever possible. When you repeatedly take a certain action -- like turning to a certain person for love, attention, and comforting -- that action becomes more and more automatic. On a neural level, this plays out with a bunch of individual brain cells (neurons) that "wire together," as neuroscientist Carla Shatz puts it.

This happens after individual neurons each fire off a chemical messenger -- a neurotransmitter -- that another neuron catches and absorbs. The more a person repeats the same action -- and the more a group of neurons does the same fire-off-and-catch sequence -- the faster they get at it. Eventually, these neurons become what I like to describe as a "thinkpack" -- conserving mental energy through bypassing the conscious thought department and robotically defaulting to whatever action worked for the person in the past.

Right now, the last thing you need is to stall your recovery process -- the weakening over time of those entrenched neural pathways -- by getting the band (Ramon and The Neurons) back together. If you feel bad about saying no to seeing her, consider how she's prioritizing her need to "process" over your continued recovery. Aww...how loving! ("It's not you; it's me -- and how my crappy new insurance no longer covers therapy.")