10 Reasons I Couldn't Be the 'Older Woman'

It’s been a while since I shared a misadventure of a single sister in the city but this latest one is a winner.

Last month, I went to a birthday celebration in Philly for my not-even-a-year-younger-than-me sister, another product of the infamous babymaker who is my father. Her friends and some of her other siblings crammed into the space she reserved at a Moroccan restaurant and I—all late and wrong since I cut my hair and can’t get the ish to look decent enough for public viewing—sat uncharacteristically quiet in my seat. Even chatterboxes like yours truly get introverted sometimes. Then again, the hair keeps me a little more sedated as of late.

Out on the street, one of her other guests approached me to introduce himself. It seemed perfectly innocent, since he mentioned something about applying for a job in D.C., and since I live in D.C., I just figured homeboy was networking. 


He was cute and had a little weight on him, which is exactly the kind of guys I like, but I could’ve sworn he’d also said something in the party about just graduating from college. So naturally, I was paying him zero mind. 

Turns out dude was interested. Interested and 24, and I have a birthday coming up in two weeks that will make me darn near 10 years older than that young man. The whole age-ain’t-nothing-but-a-number thing just doesn’t sit well with me, particularly—especially—when the number in question equals a whole decade. He probably never even heard of Fraggle Rock, for goodness sake.

This isn’t my first time being approached by a youngin. It’s happening more frequently, as a matter of fact, and the guys in question are getting lower and lower into their 20s. I could fluff my hair (I could, but I won’t) and take it as a compliment, but I wonder I’ve unknowingly crossed over into full-on cradle robber status. Was I eating a really good taco when it happened? How could I not notice?

There are several reasons why I can’t see a big ol’ gaping age difference working out favorably.   

1. I couldn’t get guys to act right when I was 20-something, so what in the hell are my chances now?

2. On that note, I can’t get guys my own age to act right, so what are the chances of being at peace with a wily 25-year-old?

3. Our frame of reference is totally different. Songs I partied to in college, he remembers fondly from, like, fifth grade. That makes me feel like I missed being a pervert by thismuch.

4. Uhhh, and then he’s only 10 years or so older than my kid. That’s weird, too.

5. I can’t help but feel old hanging with someone still accomplishing those early-life milestones. First real job, first apartment. I can’t cheer him on without feeling like his mama. I don’t have a son, so I don’t want to feel like a grown man’s mama.

6. Basically, he’s not established.  
7. Also, I’m not the boy toy type.

8 Also, it would be a second journey through the perils of that decade and once was pretty much enough.

9. That gap means I’m that much further along in the aging process. My nip-and-tuck budget is nonexistent and unless I take up a Kickstarter campaign towards my Lifestyle Lift, I can’t imagine that the older woman look is always going to be appealing.

10. He’ll always be 10 years younger. That might eventually start to piss me off.

He’s persistent, I’ll give him that much. But all signs are pointing to never. Go ‘head, tell me I’m being superficial and limited, and that as long as he’s mature, it doesn’t really matter. I’m listening. In the meantime, do spirit fingers to send some youthful, fun-loving, yet age-appropriate men my way.

How young is too young?

Image via PhotoAtelier/Flickr

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