What Doesn’t Work For Me

There seems to be an assumption that single women over the age of 40 are automatically cougars. This just isn’t true. There is some kind of list of requirements to be a cougar and I’ve even heard of some sort of mathematical equation for the age discrepancy between said cougar and her prey. I think what it really boils down to is that a woman chooses to be a cougar by purposefully choosing younger men exclusively.

I tried to go the younger man route. There’s the obvious attraction. They’re younger. They’re not balding or graying, the extra tire hasn’t set in yet, their skin is smooth. Oh, smooth skin! Oh, flat stomach! They also don’t yet have years of baggage and emotional garbage. They have youthful energy and optimism. All in theory, of course.

Keith was younger at 28. But that optimisim? More like judgmental, closed mindedness. As in, “Cheating is always wrong, no matter what. Leave the relationship first if you’re not happy.” Well, of course. Except that when you grow up, the world isn’t so black and white. There has to be room for gray area. Life isn’t a happily-ever-after fairy tale. I started to feel really jaded around him.

The other downfall? I figured younger guys were into the booty call. They’re supposed to be non-committal and carefree and spontaneous. I was clear with Keith from the beginning. I wanted sex and only sex. He said he was okay with this. He wasn’t. It quickly turned into a guilt trip. “Do we have to have sex?” I can’t even believe that was a question from a red-blooded male. “Well, I guess I’ll hear from you in a few days when you’re horny again. pout, pout, pout.” Honestly, the sex wasn’t worth the headache.

Corey was 24 and just about the complete opposite. It was a one-time thing and I was okay with that. It was casual, it just happened, no big deal. It was so casual that he acted like it never happened at all. He could have at least been a gentleman enough to acknowledge it when I saw him again; I see him regularly. Flirt a little bit. Act a tiny bit familiar. His penis was inside me, after all, so not treating me like a near stranger would be appreciated.

I guess, in the end, younger men just don’t do it for me. I realize that I like the confidence and swagger of an “older” man. I appreciate their life experience and maturity and their realistic view of life. Life is complicated. I’m complicated. I want someone who appreciates those pieces about me. Someone who makes me feel like the real woman that I am.

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~ by Kat on October 3, 2011.

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