My husband is 11 years older than me and we started dating when I was 19. The age difference never mattered to me, but I remember feeling annoyed with him when he would tell people I was older than I was. I didn’t understand why he would feel embarrassed to date a younger (incredibly attractive) lady when really he should have felt…I don’t know…flattered? Lucky? Blessed?
It wasn’t until I turned 30 that I was able to put myself in his shoes, “My God, however did you put up with me? I was such a child!” And of course he protects his choice, “You were young, but you were mature…you didn’t act like most 19 year olds…”
And then I was all, “I just can’t imagine dating a guy so young! Regardless of how mature they were, there are just so many life experiences they haven’t had yet…a certain naivete.”
And he was all, “Yep…but you were worth it…”
And I was all, “I’m glad you feel that way, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t date a younger man. I much prefer the older, more refined gentleman…”
And he was all puffing up his chest and I was all, “Maybe someday I’ll find him…”
However, there is one exception to my “no dating young men” rule. I’ve got this guy on my top 5 card: