Age Differences: I'm 22, He's 35. Can This Work?
Dating an older man meant no beer pong or silly dancing, but it also meant security and commitment.
I Googled him the next day, and lo and behold, right there on his college athlete stats page, was his birthdate. He was 35.
Suddenly our age spread had widened. Thirteen years apart. Thirteen years. I burst into tears in front of my computer.
I confronted him that evening on the phone. "I didn't want to blurt out how old I was at dinner after you went on and on about what a big age difference eight years was. What was I supposed to say?" Michael protested.
"You were supposed to say your real age, like I did!" I exclaimed.
"I know. I know. I screwed up," he admitted. "I was going to tell you the next time I saw you, I promise. I just… I knew you'd freak if I tacked on five more years, and we were having such a good time. I didn't want to ruin it. I really like you, Vanessa."
"I really like you too," I said meekly, my anger fading. I gave in and let him off the hook, and he was so grateful. He texted me all night from his client dinner, telling me how excited he was to see me again. There weren't any games with him—he was totally upfront about the fact that he thought we would be great together. It was so different from the guys my age I had met in the city, eager for the drunk bar make-out but far less eager to have a girlfriend. My friends couldn't believe how old he was, but they could see how happy I was. But how could it ever work? I agonized over it for days. Did I really want to date an older man? Why couldn't I meet a nice 25-year-old like I was supposed to? But shouldn't my feelings matter more than an arbitrary number?
After all, Michael didn't care. If we like each other it shouldn't matter what age we are, he said. But it never stopped being an issue for me. I lied and told my parents that Michael was 30. I delayed taking him out with my friends because I was worried he wouldn't fit in. And when I finally did, he didn't. We went to a dive bar in the Lower East Side with a bunch of my friends. I cringed as Michael cracked an inappropriate joke about my girlfriend's low-cut shirt—I think it was his attempt at "college humor." The last straw was when he bought a round of Grey Goose shots for everyone. It was obvious to me that he was trying so hard to impress my friends, and it just made him seem even older and more out of touch. Embarrassed and enraged, I dragged him home in a huff.
It wasn't easy for him either. I was young, excited to explore the city, constantly drinking too much and staying out until last call. My roommate and I would routinely go out and try and get guys to buy us drinks, a practice Michael was not entirely fond of, not to mention the fact that after six vodka shots from random guys, I was far from sober. Once after a long night out, I came home and picked a fight with him: I had caught his disapproving look when I stumbled in my three-inch heels, and I was sick of feeling like I'd come home to my mother. So I went into the living room, got a piece of pizza from the pizza box, and threw it at him. "You're too old for me, and this is stupid," I said, and stalked off. The pizza stains that are still on my sheets serve as a constant reminder of my stupidity that night. But Michael forgave me.
In truth, my immaturity—and insecurity about his age—drove us to the verge of breaking up too many times to count. I couldn't relax and accept Michael's age for what it was, especially when we were out in public. I felt like every time we went to a fancy restaurant, the maître d' thought I was Michael's daughter. We would kiss at the table, and I'd catch (or maybe it was my imagination) the waiter's surprised look, and then I felt like he'd pegged me as some kind of gold-digger. My guy friends teased me constantly, calling him "Old Guy," and I felt like I had to make fun of myself for dating Michael before anyone else did. I went out more to prove that I could still act 23, even if I was dating an older man. That only made things with Michael more rocky.
Many times, I thought that the relationship that perhaps was never destined to succeed would finally come to an end. But he stuck with me. And when we were alone, I found myself growing more and more attached to him. Michael treated me so well and I felt like I could really be myself with him—even if that self was silly and immature. Each week got a little easier, as we tried to balance separate friends, living on separate banks of the same river, and totally separate schedules (me in graduate school, him working). It takes a 36-year-old man to have enough patience to endure 30 phone calls, eight text messages and one cryptic note on his apartment door—written in lipstick—just because he didn't text me to say goodnight. I think any man with an ounce of sense would be long gone by now, and that showed me how much Michael did really care about me.
Discussion
I have been in a relationship with a man 14 years older than me - I'm 24, he's 38 - and I have never been happier. You're right - I don't stay out all night playing beer pong anymore (I'm a little embarassed to admit I loved it in college) but what I get in return is commitment, loyalty, maturity, and lots and lots of what apears to be unconditional love. I put him through immaturity hell as well - drunken arguments were the least of them - and he stuck by me when I know not many younger men would. Basically he takes my crap, and loves me anyway - and in turn I'm a loyal, caring, and fun girlfriend. He says he's sure I'm the one, and that he is done looking - and while I still have the occasional doubt or concern, we are both pretty much planning to stay together. have plenty of moments when I see a young couple as new parents and realize he will be at least 40 by the time we have children. I think he has a harder time blending in with my friends than I do with his, and most of our problems tend to be in my head - he doesn't have nearly as many issues as I do, and most of mine can be solved with just some clear-thinking. We are open and honest with each other, and we laugh harder together than I ever thought possible.
I don't care about the age difference, I know I just got really lucky.
I am a 39 year old man and learned a good deal from the article. My cousin is 29 and has been dating a man more than 20 years older. Recently I shared with her my sense of guilt over being attracted to younger women who tend to be emotionally more mature, and she said something interesting: that it's perfectly ok to do it, but one should be prepared for the social stigma and the social challenges, and simply accept those as par for the course. I agree with others that this is a well-written article and also admire the author's persistence and listening to what feels right to her despite the challenges she faced. I have to say, honestly, though that since her writing is so clear and insightful, I have a feeling she is actually more emotionally mature than she portrays herself to be, and perhaps has used exaggeration for effect and contrast. If in fact she feels she has to do all the more "juvenile" things she says she likes to do, then perhaps she doesn't truly relate with people she hangs out with and is trying too hard to hide that fact.....
I think when both parties are truly honest and open, nature will solve any problems that may come with age differences. After all, if it were not natural for one partner to be older, then there wouldn't be any attraction. So, honesty and then surrender to what comes our way seems to make sense. I have realized that my own sense of guilt was not really guilt at all, but an expression of not knowing what I really wanted in a woman...and it has turned out that what I really want in a woman has not really ever correlated with her age...but with what kind of person she is and what her priorities are.
Anonymous, it sounds like you need to get out and let lose. Vanessa sounds like a normal 23 year old girl who has recently graduated from college and enjoying life in NYC. I think that your comment is ridiculous and completely out of line.
As for the article - I think it is great. Not only is it well written and captivating, but it also relates well to a lot of 20something NYC women. I hope to be hearing a lot more from you in the near future!
Good for you for sticking it out! Way to be adventurous - I love this article :)
Um -- at your age you ought to be acting more mature than the teenage antics you described. That kind of behavior is the realm of high school children. Not adult grad students. Grow up already.
13 years seems like a lot, but it obviously depends on the couple. I've found myself in almost the same situation as you, except my guy looks nowhere near his age...i.e. nobody would suspect that we're more than five years apart (if that), and certainly not the decade that separates us. Either way, I've found that most of the issues are in my own head. At the end of the day age really just is a number, cliched as it may sound. Relax, let go, and enjoy it. Soulmates don't always come in neat, "perfect" packages.
You are sooo lame. The guy needs you for sex and your pretending it's not that. You have no where to go, because you can't meet someone your own age and clearly have "daddy" issues. Your whining screams that you know he's going to dump you - you just don't know when..... can't wait to see this unfold. You can't even see that you sound even more juvenile than then 23. You sound pathetic and lonely......
