" except for aging pageant queens and John Mellencamp. I know this because I once worked with a 42-year-old man who was skipping his daughter’s birthday because "she’ll have one every year, but you never know when they’re going to shut down Burning Man for good."True, another factor is judgment from other people, who may see a 44-year-old going to dinner with a 25-year-old and make judgments about which one of them is drowning in student loan debt.
If only I could tell them how many broke, destitute middle-aged guys I’ve slept with, and challenge their ugly stereotypes.
The only problem I’ve had with dating outside of my age range is when the other person has been too aware of it.
Either he was self-conscious about dating a younger lady, or he tried to pay for everything because he thought I expected it.
Like, "This Cuban-Chinese restaurant is half-Latino, just like the late Emilio Estevez." Or, "I just put a dollar’s worth of O-Town songs in the jukebox.
Who knew this bar would have a dollar’s worth of O-Town songs?
Given the opportunity, your friends and strangers will judge you for being out with somebody who is too fat, too thin, to short, too Asian, too a stripper, whatever.
It is up to you to be mutually happy with the person you date.
I contend that as long as nobody is being willfully creepy (I see you, guys in Ferrari hats), this kind of limitation is mega lame.It’s too bad O-Town was hit by a bus."He was the only "younger guy" I’d ever gone out with, by about six years, and I used to ask my friends obsessively if it was "weird." But they just thought it was strange that all of our conversations could start a potential death rumor about Ray Liotta. Ultimately, it wasn’t that this guy was young; it was that I had absolutely nothing to say to him that wasn’t "There," "Not there," "NOT there, this isn’t anybody’s birthday," or "Slow down, Usain Bolt, who incidentally is A lot of us have found ourselves attracted to somebody younger or older, and have been reluctant to act on it because of some perceived weirdness or taboo.Some of us limit our potential partners to a very specific age range because that’s what we think we’ll be attracted to.If you dismiss people because of their personalities or because you’re on some kind of baby-making timetable, fine, fair enough.But if you’re not into someone because of the arbitrary time in which their parents created them—well, more tasty imperfect flesh for the rest of us.I know many smoking-hot middle-aged people who are emotional teenagers.I know many brilliant, mature people who aren’t old enough to rent a car.How wonderful it felt to have an "adult" who valued our opinion; thought we were not just cute but interesting. I was wearing a Bundeswehr tank top I'd gotten at an Army supply store and faded jeans, a thrift shop crucifix around my neck. But as we sat there together in the sunshine, the wine buzzing my head, I suddenly felt … With real life, however, and memory especially, it is harder to keep things so neat and organized. In the first, I snuck out of the house with a guy friend who lived down the street. My friend came back, we went home and I slid back into my bed. The second incident I remember happened when he was giving me a ride home. I'd been quiet for so long, worried about hurting his feelings and the ripple effects of whatever actions I took. You don't need to offer an explanation, even if someone asks you for one. You can't just hang out with a guy and not expect him to get ideas, I told myself. Especially for girls, who are often taught that being polite and sweet should override all other instincts. That if something feels wrong, that's all the reason you need to get out of there. My best friend was 14 when she fell in love with a 21 year old. My friend's older boyfriend was close with a guy I'll call T. My mother, spying him from the front window, asked me how old he was."I don't know," I said. After awhile, my friend and her boyfriend disappeared, leaving T. Many memories remain fuzzy, but incidents such as that day in the forest remain in crisp detail. It was late and my parents were asleep as we drove over to the house where T. At some point, my friend left to go somewhere, and for whatever reason I didn't go with him. Maybe he only stepped out to go to the store down the block. This was after the night at his house, though how much later I cannot say. "That's your mom talking."I told him that this wasn't true: it was my choice. He stopped the car with a jerk, right past the top of my driveway, and I grabbed the door handle and got out. For many years afterward, I took total blame for everything that happened between me and T. It was with this in mind that I began my narrator Sydney's story in I'm 44 now, married with a daughter of my own. The teen years loom ahead and I've experienced too much to rest easily. Don't worry about being nice, or hurting someone's feelings: they'll get over it. You don't have to wait, I want to tell her, until you have no choice. Because of this, I was drawn to people like my best friend, who was dynamic and bold.She was the one who things happened to, the starting point of every story. He, in turn, went to find my friend and her boyfriend, who were none too pleased at having to leave so soon after we got there. Hearing that he wanted more felt like wading into the deep end. had feelings for me, I felt strange every time I saw him.