I am known for liking older men. It became a sort of an inside joke with my group of friends after I attempted to set a girlfriend up on a date with a man whom I found attractive. When my 25 year old girlfriend showed up to the blind date, she was mortified to find that the gentleman was in his late 30’s. I didn’t see the big deal. We laughed and laughed about it, and now I turn really red when I get called out on my “elderly leaning tendencies” in front of a group of friends. Even my husband will mention the silver haired foxes he sees that he knows I will appreciate.
We could do some flawed Freudian investigation to discover the reasons behind my attraction to the more mature men. I’d rather not, but feel free to do so in your own time and on your own platform.
My attraction to older men is not new. David Duchovny was my first crush when I was seven years old. Mulder was a Fox! And Sean Connery can still get it. When I was 18, I met and fell in love with a man 25 years older than me; let’s name him Bill. Our story is long and complicated but the end of our relationship came about when Bill refused to want to ruin my youth with his aging. “What happens when I just want to sit in my Depends on a rocking chair and you’re still a young and vibrant 50 year old who wants to enjoy life?” No matter how much I pleaded with him, he refused to “restrict me” with his age.
Even Captain America says I am too young. “Go find someone your own age.” Excuse me, but have you met people my own age? With my past experiences, with my twisted way of thinking, I need someone who has gone through a few irreversibly damaging experiences. I need the tortured. Give me a young and inexperienced 30 year old man to exchange life stories with and he will run after hearing the simplest of my stories. I need people fighting their own demons so mine don’t seem as large.
The age thing never really bothered me before this year. Sure, I would get looks and even comments, especially from the older women who severely disagree with my life choices. For example, Bill and I are still very close after nine years. He and I will grab a beer and hang out occasionally as non-judgmental shoulders to lean on during our equally fucked up lives. A few months ago, during one of the last times I saw him, some women in their 40’s told him he should be ashamed of himself. He and I weren’t even acting as though we were a couple. We were acting like close friends who were having dinner. This was the first encounter that would make me uncomfortable regarding age difference, and I wasn’t even with Bill.
Now I feel shame when someone says something. Yesterday, the guy I am dating (who happens to be 46) and I were crossing the street when a man yelled out, “Good job, man, you should be proud of yourself!” to him as we passed. It was horrible, and I never before felt like such a piece of ass. Because that has to be what people think when they see a young woman and an older man out together, right? I am a gold-digging bimbo with only her body to offer instead of a multiple degree holding career woman who is intelligent enough to string together a few words here and there. I am clearly in it to be pampered because I can’t handle life as an adult. *insert eye roll*
As time goes on, I feel worse and worse about my attraction to older men. It makes me feel like something is wrong with me. It also makes me think that Bill and Captain America are right; I need to find someone my own age. So I’ll wait for the men my age to lose the love of their life to cancer or shatter their rose-colored glasses in some other horrific manner so I can stop being shouted at in public. Or I could continue to live my life and love the people who can handle me until they want to sit in their Depends on the front porch rocking chair.