Over
the summer I met someone of the opposite sex who was tall, attractive and
interesting. He asked for my number and
we spent a little bit of time together.
Then I never heard from him again.
But that is beside the point.
When I told my friend Alyce about meeting him, I stopped myself and
thought about what I was about to say. I
usually tell people that I met a guy.
This guy, however, was over 50.
Therefore I felt compelled to tell her that I met a man. Why? I
still refer to myself as a girl, as do I refer to my friends of various ages (some of
whom are north of 50).
Today
I read an article in the Huffington Post that triggered my memory on this topic. And confirmed my thoughts on dating older men
now that I am approaching 50.
I
feel a bit like Peter Pan at times, especially since I don’t have the husband
and/or kids that most of female society does.
I have no one to worry about except myself. Sure, I care about my family and friends, and
have concern for them, but I don’t have to take care of anyone or check with
anyone to see if it’s ok that I buy something or go somewhere. I just do it.
Same as I always have. (For the
record, I do WANT that, it just hasn’t happened.)
Even
though I am relatively youthful and can fly off to Neverland at a moment’s
notice, I do understand that my potential suitors’ age range is going up. Even though I still find all ages of men attractive,
I know that guys even in their late 30s are going to think I’m too old for them. (I’m sure they have been thinking this longer
than care to admit). Sigh.
At
age 28 I went out with a guy who was 36.
I remember telling my friends incredulously, “In four years he will be
40!” Then in my mid-30s I dated a man
with children. We didn’t date long so I
didn’t get the full experience of what all of that entails, but I could sense
that things were shifting. Young children. Exes.
Now it’s moving to kids in college or grown children.
My
age “rule” was stolen from a former co-worker Crissy (see Post No. 26). I have re-told one story from that post, so
won’t go into great detail. It’s just strange
that my age range now is 37-57, fast approaching 60. Although Kenny Aronoff is 62 and I LOVE
him.
My
ultimate feeling about age is that it really doesn’t matter. When you click with someone, who cares how
old they are? (Well, it must be
legal.) And as for what to call them –
man or guy, I may flip flop on that. It’s
a hard one to figure out, man.
Good stuff! If a 90 year old woman living in an assisted living facility can have a "boyfriend," I think a man in his fifties can still be a "guy."
ReplyDeleteAs a long time reader of your blog, I thought you'd enjoy a tall story. A few years ago, my wife and I were invited to a Nigerian festival. I was apprehensive at first, but immediately felt at home when we got there. There were hundreds of tall people. The men were tall. The women were tall. The old people were tall. The kids were tall. They were selling traditional clothing and shoes in sizes hard to find in any American mall. It was tall heaven, and I have not experienced anything like it since.
My point in telling you this is to ponder a counterfactual... If you lived in a country with more tall people, say Nigeria, the Netherlands, or Sweden, would things be different now?