- I started dating a man who was 15 years older than me.
- Everyone in my life criticized my age-gap relationship, asking if I was only in it for the money.
- Our relationship did eventually end, but it wasn’t because of our age difference.
Age is an odd topic of conversation. In high school, a year’s difference can feel like eons. In college, two or three years are of no consequence. Then, later in life, just as I thought I’ve escaped the constraints of social expectations, they reared their heads again and told me that a certain age gap is inappropriate.
It all started when I began dating a man 15 years older than me. He was faster and more athletic than I was, pushing me to climb and hike harder. I huffed and puffed on steep Colorado hikes while he sat on a rock and waited for me to catch up. He was also more stable than anyone I’d dated before, remaining consistent and predictable, making scary topics less difficult to broach. He made me laugh, and it was easy to stay up to all hours of the night talking about life’s problems from the comfort of our pillows.
Yet everyone threw criticisms at me like darts in the dark, telling me my relationship was wrong.
Everyone seemed to have an opinion
Relationship commentary wasn’t exactly new for me. Everyone around me always seemed to have something to say about my mate’s attractiveness, occupation, and general charisma — even before this particular match. Yet the criticism was at a minimum until the age gap widened. Then, everyone had opinions about what my romantic life should look like.
One evening, about three years into my relationship, my roommates held an intervention of sorts. Over a card game and a few glasses of whiskey, their lips flew loose. They started probing for answers.
They asked: What did I see in a man who grew up in a different generation than me? How could we possibly relate? Was I in it for the money?
The truth was that we often didn’t understand each other’s cultural references. But there was no money to dig, and we related in all the ways that counted.
“We just think you deserve better,” my friends said.
As much as I appreciated the sentiment, “better” seemed to carry a strange definition. I didn’t want kids or a conventional family, and I didn’t need the same relationship that my friends had with their partners.
At the same time that friends, family members, and even strangers verbalized their disapproval of my partner’s age, I began wondering if my partner was receiving similar criticism. When I asked him, he said he wasn’t. In fact, dating a younger woman seemed like a status symbol that shot him to the top of the herd. If he could land a woman who was 15 years younger, then he must’ve been some kind of alpha in the chain of evolution.
Yet the comments I received seemed to indicate that dating an older man made me less desirable. I was labeled “damaged” or a “gold digger.” The people around me started citing Freudian concepts, saying that I must have “daddy issues.”
One question actually did give me pause
In the glow of dusk over Christmas cookies, my sister asked, “Do you want to be alone in your old age?”
I didn’t. And I knew that basic math wasn’t on my side.
In the US, the current life expectancy for men is just under 75. Meanwhile, women have an age expectancy of about 80. Add 15 years, and basic statistics told me that I might spend many years alone.
Not only did that idea frighten me, but it also made me think about caregiving. What would my life look like when my partner became sick or bedridden? I didn’t know and wasn’t exactly sure I wanted to find out.
Yet I did know that I could just as easily become the one who needed care. Where my friends saw issues, I saw a person with common interests and perspectives who made me a better version of myself. Where my sisters saw only obligation, I saw someone who contrived life master plans that were as exciting and full as mine.
So, when our relationship ended years later, it wasn’t the gray hairs peeking through the brown that pushed us to split up. It was simply that our desires were no longer aligned, and it was time to move on. And I realized it wasn’t about age at all; it was about what I wanted all along.
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