Via TJBNYC76 @ Flickr
To be honest, it was more like May/October. I was 29, he was 47. But that 18 year difference caused a hell of a lot of trouble for this harpy.
I met D. at the “singles” table of a friend’s wedding reception. The hot Brazilian guy to my right turned out be incoherently drunk, so I turned to the handsome older guy on my left instead. We bantered politely for about an hour and then he smiled and asked, “What do you think about relationships between older men and younger women?”
“I think those older men are just looking for arm candy.” I snapped, and drained my drink.
Yes, it was bitchy, but yes, I meant it. By my late 20s, I had developed a deep and abiding suspicion of middle-aged men. I enthusiastically dated guys my own age, but I had a rule. No one more than 10 years older than me need apply. My experiences with the middle-aged had been uniformly unpleasant. When I opened my first account at Charles Schwab–I was 22–the fortysomething branch manager, after noting my bare ring finger, told me way too much about his recent divorce and asked me to dinner. I scowled and told him all I wanted was a Roth IRA. When I was 23, a writer I had been working with–married, at least fifty–pounced on me in a taxi and tried to stick his tongue in my mouth. He got a fist in the nose (and I had to do a lot of explaining at the office the next day.) Overseas conferences were a minefield; European men positively pride themselves on their crusing skills–the older the man, the younger the woman he was trying to pick up. I’d concluded that older men were leches, all of them, desperately trying to recapture their fading youth or take advantage of someone less experienced.
So by the time I met D., I had a huge chip on my shoulder. To his credit, he didn’t get offended when I shut him down, just smiled and changed the subject. A week or so later, the bride asked me what I thought of him, saying “he was really taken with you.” Brave man. I waved her off, but she persisted. And he did too. I ran into him at a few other events–we worked in the same business, although in different fields–and eventually I accepted an invitation to lunch. And then one to drinks. D. never again made a pass at me, which was a relief, and he was thoughtful, witty and charming. Plus, he was extremely good-looking, with a thick head of hair and deep green eyes. Slowly, he grew on me.
About that time, my thirty-two year old boyfriend dumped me. One evening, I found myself on the phone with a trusted buddy–my gay boyfriend Dave–who told me to quit harping on the age difference and give D. a chance. Normally, I trust my friends’ instincts–especially if, like Dave, they are professional advice columnists–so I swallowed my pride and agreed to another dinner with D, this time a romantic Italian restaurant. Still a little conflicted, I decided to brazen it out. Over dessert, I blurted: “I know I said I didn’t date older men. But if you’re still interested, I’m willing to try it.” He looked stunned for a moment, and then laughed and said he’d think it over. On our next date, he kissed me.
Reader, it was hot. It damn near melted my fillings. From that first kiss, I was hooked. It wasn’t that D. was more confident or more experienced or any of the usual cliches about older men. It was just that we were a good fit. Despite the 18 year age difference, it turned out we were incredibly compatible. He had a sweet wistfulness that brought out my protective side. My sharp tongue delighted him. And we shared a raunchy and uninhibited sense of humor that went well with our raunchy, uninhibited sex life. I was in love, in lust, and the happiest I’d ever been in my life. So was he.
But I was unprepared for what came next. No more Ms. Big; on D’s arm I magically transformed into The Bimbo. What would you think if you saw a 47 year old man, recently divorced, walk into a party with a 29 year old new girlfriend? Did I mention that I’m blonde? And thin? And wear short skirts? Oh yeah, I know what you’re thinking. If I’d been a casual observer, I would have thought the same thing too.
I was a walking cliche, and it stung—most of all because of my own predjudices. In her wickedly entertaining memoir, Falling into Manholes, Wendy Merrill writes, “Whatever I have contempt for, I should set a place for it at my table, because it’s either already in my life or it’s coming.” Amen. My boyfriend and I now fit a stereotype I’d openly despised my entire life.
A few of D’s friends were welcoming, especially the ones who knew the icky details of his epic divorce. They were happy if he was happy. Those friends, though, were the minority. Most of D’s male friends wished us well, but in a wink-wink way that made me seethe. One of them, a doctor, slipped him some sample packs of Cialis; presumably every older man with a younger girlfriend needs boner pills to counteract her ravenous youthful vagina. (For the record, D. did just fine without the drugs, thanks.) His female friends downright shunned me. D’s best friend since childhood, a chilly woman who was a deacon at her local church, snubbed me outright at his birthday dinner, doling out one-word responses when I tried to chat with her. Another female friend–a self-described bohemian who’d written a memoir about her heroin addiction–told him flat out that I was too young for him and made it clear that when he came to her parties he was to come alone. They may have been middle-aged, but socially speaking, we were all back in junior high.
After one too many evenings of thinly veiled hostility, I had my first rage-y, weepy breakdown since, well, junior high. I was sick of being a cliché, I told D., I hated his friends’ passive-aggressive swipes about my age and their automatic assumption that he was in it for the sex and I was in it for the social climbing. D. looked pained as I ranted, but he had been watching me simmer for months, so he wasn’t shocked that I’d finally boiled over. He talked me down, reminding me how much he loved me and how happy we were. His friends, well, he freely admitted they were being assholes.
My fury was real, but ultimately impotent. The things that people were reacting to—my age, my looks, my relationship with D—couldn’t be changed. All I could do was hope that with time, D’s friends might focus instead on my decency and my genuine love for him. In fact, most of them eventually did (and D. cut ties with some of the ones who didn’t). But it was a sobering experience for me. After a lifetime of being told that hard work, confidence, and achievement trumped looks, age, and gender, here was definitive proof that they did not. I had smacked into a different kind of glass ceiling.
For all the success of today’s career woman, and despite all the advances we’ve made in breaking down the traditional barriers at school and at work, as a society, we’re still in a pretty deep hole when it comes to romance. The snarky stereotypes are alive and well. Even a convinced lifelong feminist–me–had been guilty of them. I had freely bashed older men who dated younger women, tarring them all with the same brush. Now my contempt had boomeranged back at me. I felt scorched by the sexist judgment of my fellow women, and at the same time, I realized that I’d been fairly scorching in my own judgments all those years–and had nearly missed out on a loving, fulfilling relationship because of it.
The relationship with D. eventually ended—another story for another time—and while I never regretted our relationship, I felt an distinct sense of relief when the next man I dated was my own age. Would I date an older man again? Perhaps. I’m 33 now, and the older I get, the less stigma there will be; you don’t hear tongues wag when a 60 year old man dates a 45 year old woman, for example. What I do know is that when I see a younger woman with an older man these days, I now cringe more out of sympathy than contempt. I ain’t saying she’s a golddigger. Well, she might be. But she might be just like me.
I was 23 dating a 35 year old. With a 14-year-old daughter. The age difference is one of the things that eventually broke us up, but not because he was older than me, but because he acted older than he was. I was a “nympho” for wanting sex more than once a week. More often than not, he acted like a grouchy old man. But going into the relationship, I didn’t bat an eye about the 12 year age difference. I didn’t even balk at the 14-year-old daughter (who looked older than me!).
Age is nothing but a number, and I firmly believe that.
That Wendy Merrill quote is great. Ain’t it just the truth that the situations we judge the hardest end up tapping us on the shoulder sooner or later? It’s a great reminder to have a little patience with what we perceive to be others’ mistakes. Congrats on the hot May-December.
Your story sounds like the plot of Suburban Girl, with Sarah Michelle Gellar and Alec Baldwin playing the roles of Becky and D.! It’s a cute movie that explores some of the very same issues you faced.
It completely depends on where in life the parties are. At 24, my mother had been married, had two children, and widowed. So she and my (divorced) 36 year old step-father were very much on equal ground. It’s about having a common “next step.” Immature people have difficulty with that concept.
The blog looks great, Harpies! I look forward to reading more!
Kivrin, I’m pretty sure that movie is an adaptation of sort of “The Girl’s Guide to Hunting and Fishing,” which also features a May-December. I haven’t seen the movie yet, which is odd, as it features both Buffy and Jack Donaghy.
BeckySharper, thank you for (over)sharing.
I fully admit my own opposition to Older Man/Younger Women relationships comes not from some lofty ideal but from lingering high school bitterness. I remember how the seniors took all hot underclassmen. Of course when I became a senior I found out why: it was easy (plus, ironically, the senior girls were usually dating guys in college). And as I grew older this did not change. The freshmen girls in college, the girl fresh out of college in the office, etc… With a younger woman expectations are lower, period. From having a car when her contemporaries are too young to drive, to having your own apartment when guys her own age have roommates. She’s impressed by things that are merely status quo for you. You can pay for dinner? Wow. You know white wine from red. Ooh. You go down on me without being asked? Swoon. A woman his own age, however, is not so easily impressed and holds him to a higher standard and as we get older it only goes up. She wants as good as she’s given and hasn’t gone this long to lower herself. So why should I work to meet that when I can get it younger and firmer and ego-flattering without even trying? The numbers are on our side and we know it. George Clooney is a prime example of this, dating none of the accomplished women his own age he works with, but a regular stream of 20-something wannabe actresses and literal cocktail waitresses. He does not want an equal, period, and he doesn’t care who knows it.
This does not mean there aren’t exceptions to the rule. A very close friend is marrying a man more than a decade her senior, but I’ll be the first to tell you, it’s only when we talk about pop culture that I’m reminded she’s only 25. She’s a true old soul. But even there issues arise. At 37, he wants kids and he wants them now and she’s in no rush. Then there’s the simple fact that life is hard and lonely, chemistry is rare and if you can find someone to put up with your shit, you grab them, lock them in the basement and never let go. But the honest truth is for most men it truly is for the most obvious reasons: young booty. That you may be smart and funny and capable beyond your years is a bonus, especially for some who like to pretend age has nothing to do with it, but do you really think we can’t find that with someone our own age? We can and we know it, but if you can get it with a flat stomach and an ass that still defies gravity, why not? So she doesn’t get your Haircut 100 jokes. Look how impressed your dude friends are when they see her in her white bikini at the pool party. We’re getting over and we know it. And so does that older woman staring at you with daggers in her eyes when you come in the room with us. She’s mad at me too, but she needs me. You, not so much.
Oh, then there’s the disturbing trend of older men who kill their younger mates when they try to leave, but that also has a lot of class issues mixed into it so is a discussion for another day.
What an interesting perspective. I don’t think people really ever look at the other side of relationships like this.
And by the way, I’m so excited about this blog!!
@Khrushchev: I believe you’re right. I haven’t read the book — is it worth a read?
hey just found your blog, looks wonderful guys. And to be briefly on topic I liked the post too – I went out with a 39 year old at 23 and it all seemed wonderful until the moment I wanted to see Star Wars on the big screen having never done so and he said ‘I was 20 when it first came out, I hated it then, why would I be interested now?’ And then I realised that there was such a thing as a generation gap.
Becky, I absolutely loved this story, but especially your willingness to admit that you held the same reservations about May-Dec (or Oct) romances before embarking on one yourself. We all live and learn, I suppose.
Loving the blog so far!
“Whatever I have contempt for, I should set a place for it at my table, because it’s either already in my life or it’s coming.” Oh, how true that is! And now I’m going to google Wendy Merrill and seek out her book.
This is a great story. I’ve always had a thing for older guys (Viggo – one day you will be mine. Oh yes.) I think it started when I was about 12 and saw The Prime Of Miss Jean Brodie (the film with Maggie Smith), where the hot bohemian art teacher has an affair with one of the ‘gerrrrruls’. Which is all kinds of fucked-up, when you think about it! Curiously, in real life, all my bfs have been a mere 1 or 2 years older.
Also, reminds me of the time, years ago, when I got a job at a particularly successful business title. I was a DM-wearing punker and there was this one reporter who was always waltzing around in the tiniest mini-skirts and the highest of high-heels. I immediately wrote her off as a bimbo, who was probably also a bitch to other women. . . until I started editing her copy. It was the best-researched and best-written of anyone on the magazine, with nary a typo or spelling mistake. In short, she was a brilliant journalist and, as it happened, a lovely person. It was a lesson I’ve never forgotten.
(The punchline is that, years later, she ended up being the editor. But only after a few less-competent men had been tried out, naturally)
Great story – thanks for sharing! I met a guy at a convention back in November who made my bodice quiver…but when we got LinkedIn I realized he graduated from high school the year I was born… Good to know it’s not always a disaster.
@LaComtesse: It completely depends on where in life the parties are.
@Mac Loserboy: At 37, he wants kids and he wants them now and she’s in no rush.
Yes, this is a good point. I think that part of the reason my ex that was 12 years my senior dated women much younger than him is for this reason. He already had a child and was in no rush to have anymore. Women his age tended to feel like their biological clock was ticking and were in a rush for kids, and he had already done that. The younger girls weren’t looking to have kids anytime soon.
@mkp-hearts-nyc: “when we got LinkedIn”, sounds dirty. I like it.
This was awesome. And I confess I have a bit of an older man crush thing which made this even more interesting reading.
@Diziet_Sma: I will fight you for Viggo. You know that, right?
One point I forgot to make was that I was referring to long-term relationships, because I believe that a short term fling is good for the young people. It’s like going to Europe; you learn a little about sex, a little about wine and when it’s over you’re a more complete person. You’re exchanging your youth for their experience and it’s over too quickly for the age gap to become an issue.
To use Clooney again, it’s said that before she crashed and burned, Lindsay Lohan hit on him. Think of how much better she and her life would be now if she’d spent a summer boning him rather than the dirtbag dudes she chose. When it was over she’d be older, wiser and with a higher expectation from the men she’d date afterwards (and Samantha Ronson probably wouldn’t have been the first person ever to go down on her).
@Mac: I’m not sure if younger women going for older guys is just about being easily impressed, though I guess it plays a part. I think a lot of it is just cultural influence. For whatever reason, pop culture sets up the “ideal man” as older. When you’re in middle school, it’s boy band types, rock stars, or actors in their twenties (who inevitably play high schoolers in movies and TV); when you get older it’s the dashing gentleman as reinforced by many a romantic comedy. The ideal shifts as women age, but the ideal set up for men always seems to be 18-mid-twenties.
That said, the biggest age gap I’ve had in a relationship was 5 years, and he was a grad student and I a recent college grad, so our experiences/world views weren’t too different.
Mac, I don’t buy your Clooney thing. If, as you claim, he’s not interested in a relationship w/ an equal, he’s not much better than whatever “dirtbag dudes.” There isn’t enough wine in the world to compensate for a man who thinks you’re lesser.
Granted it may diminish Clooney that he clearly has no intention on dating an equal (he literally has his choice of women in the world, but consistently winds up with young cocktail waitresses and wannabes), but for someone like LL who was running wild, his calming influence would have been a good thing. Of course in a perfect world, he would have just been a mentor, sans sex, to fulfill that father role she’s so obviously lacking, but what’s the fun in that?
I always thought Clooney had had long relationships with a teacher (that French woman) and other actresses? Isn’t the most recent gal the only “cocktail waitress”?
I think it’s an unfair statement to claim that he seeks out women who are not his “equal.” What are we talking about here – equal money-makers, equal amounts of humanity or intelligence? I can’t claim the opposite, but I think it speaks volumes that we assume a cocktail waitress must be a lesser person/success/whatever, in any regard.
The French woman Clooney went out with was a waitress as well. And was in sub-D list reality shows last time I was there.
I can think of at least two aspiring actresses and one cocktail waitress who was also an aspiring actress. And of course “equal” means in terms of professional accomplishment and financial success which plays directly into they dynamics of any relationship. When a disagreement occurs whose way do you think it’s going to go? The millionaire Oscar winner or the person making an hourly wage? And will social time be made around his schedule or hers? And when George is doing the press tour for his latest release and wants you there for red carpets in NY, Paris, Rome you obviously can’t work or audition, so now who’s paying your bills? And then there’s the elephant in the room: will he help you with your career? Even if he were dating a 20-something doctor it would be different, but it never that either.
Well, Clooney did date one aspiring actress who was a Stanford grad and now a regular on a TV show and married to the mayor of San Francisco. So, he just might like intelligent women.
I just really don’t like judging things by sight. Course, I do it all the time, I just don’t talk about it.
I have never been able to see an older man as someone I would date. Imaginary crushes – yes, actually thinking of getting it on with a 40-year olds -no. I haven’t dated anyone significantly older than me, and I got married at 24 to a guy my age I was dating since like forever.
However, my best friend is dating an older guy – close to 10 years older- and they seem like such a good, comfortable match. They seem to share a lot of goals, expectations, and timetables.
It all depends on the couple of course, but I’ve seen too many horny old men looking for inexperienced girls (that happen to be some of my young cousins) to be biased initially against them.
Mac, I really don’t know. I agree these things play into the dynamics of a relationship, I guess I am just uncomfortable making those broad assessments.
And, using the same method (observing his actions), I remember seeing him alone, a lot, on red carpets. Most certainly before his most current relationship. As for helping with one’s career, I don’t really see an issue with that, although I am not sure he’s ever been much good at that as none of his exes have shot to fame after their relationships have ended. I’ve always gathered that he’s pretty straight-forward about his desires (i.e. not wanting to be married, makes a “bad” boyfriend) and I appreciate men who are at least straight-up and honest about being selfish and self-absorbed.
i have an older brother and a younger brother who provide the perfect age range for me – my older bro is 9 years older and my younger bro is 6 years younger, so my limit is slightly less than that because in my mind, if i go beyond it, i’d be dating my brother. no can do.
however, becky, i do have to disagree with you – i think a 60+ man still gets the tsk tsk tsks for dating a woman in her 40s or younger….either he gets the weird stares or women will write him off as a cliche.
Damn, I miss you, girl. It’ll be good to see you.
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There is a lovely quote in Shakespeare’s 12th Night about May/December romances.
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