If you’re a twenty-something boy who thinks it’s cute to hit on forty-something women, I have a message for you, and you ‘aint gonna like it.
Last weekend, I went out. Like actually out-out. I usually avoid the city centre at the weekends; going out on a Saturday night in a University city means feeling like someone’s mum. Plus hanging out in bars that smell like jeiger bombs, desperation and vomit just doesn’t hold the same appeal any more. Call me crazy.
Anyhoo, I was out at a rare old skool hip hop night, and had taken five to go outside and smoke, when I was accosted by a couple of lads who were ever-so keen to tell me how much they dig older women.
At the time, the most eloquent response I could muster was “Fuck off”. I blame the beer. But I’ve had time and space to ruminate on why their attention so greatly pissed me off, and why getting hit on by younger guys continually makes me so mad.
You see, I’m not an older woman to me. I’m just me, a plain old human being, going about my business, thinking thoughts and stuff.
When you say you dig older women, it dehumanises me. It’s a label, and it tells me that the first and only thing about me that anyone’s noticing is that I am a woman and that I am old. Nice.
It tells me that the three and a half hours I spent layering expensive shit on my face, making my hair all bouncy-shiny, and shoe-horning myself into patent jeans in an attempt to look youthful achieved nothing. NOTHING.
It’s the arrogance of it. You assume. You assume that because you’re younger than me that I’ll find you irresistible. Like those straight guys who assume every gay man in the vicinity wants to bum rape them, simply because they have a penis. Well I have news for you, hot shot. They don’t want you and neither do I.
Plus it’s so obvious. It’s like me approaching you by saying “hey, I couldn’t help but notice that you have a face. Let’s make out.”
And then what? Don’t think I don’t remember a dude just like you telling the 20-year-old version of me why sex is so hot with older women – because they’re grateful. Now I’m the older woman, and I know exactly where your head’s at.
Well, I am not grateful. When I was 20 I wouldn’t have gone near you. What makes you think that after 20 years of extra life experience I’ll suddenly lower my standards? Step the fuck away, son.
You see, in the extra 20 years or so that I’ve been on this planet, I’ve travelled the world, I’ve seen some shit, made some money, and got a whole load of self-esteem. Why would I want to waste my time on some kid fresh out of school who could teach me absolutely nothing. You’re the one who should be grateful.
Same goes for the cashier dudes who think it’s cute to ask me for ID when I want to buy cigarettes. I might be older, but I am not senile (quite yet). I know I don’t look 16. Just give me my fucking smokes and shut the hell up.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you do actually admire, respect and cherish a lady with a more worldly view and saggier bottom. It’s probably one of those lost in translation things; after all, I’ve been told that older men actually feel younger in the company of girls half their age. They feel flattered by the attention. Fair enough.
But it just doesn’t work the other way around. I don’t feel flattered, I feel insulted. Being with a guy half my age would make me feel even older. It would draw my attention to all the ways I have changed – both physically and mentally, and in a most unflattering way. To both of us. I’d be wrinkly and chubby and craggy, and you’d be ignorant and uneducated and childish.
So please, next time you’re out and you see a kind of hot looking woman who’s older than you – keep walking. And if you really are interested in her, don’t make your observation that she has a few years on you be your opening gambit, or the response you get could be a punch in the face.