Many told me to grow up and date someone from my own age group.
While I could easily disregard the vitriolic views of strangers, many of whom I suspected were merely jealous or prudish, I did feel it would be sensible to put my experiences in perspective by dating some older men. Yet, as the conversation steered predictably down the safe avenues of favourite films and actors he’d worked with, my mind wandered back to those playful exchanges I’d enjoyed with one of my favourite younger chaps, during our wonderful sexy afternoons. Had my flings with younger guys led to me to set the bar unrealistically high?
Of course a paunchy man fast approaching his 70th birthday will not compare favourably with a 23-year-old young stud.
We exchanged friendly messages and spoke on the phone. We stayed in touch via email and Daniel kept trying to pursue things further, but I knew there would be no point.
You can’t commit yourself to someone because he is a nice person — even if he does have a cool car.
I’ve crossed paths with other older men, too, in the past year or so: some I merely corresponded with; some I met in person.
I’ve discovered how world-weary and bitter they can be, desperate to offload their emotional baggage on any female who will listen.
Still, there were times when the idea of a permanent partner seemed appealing. Did I really want to know about that classic 1966 Mercedes SL he’d restored, or where his children went to school?
Knowing I wouldn’t get this with a much younger man, I decided to remain open to dates with men nearer my own age, who could sing along to the Rolling Stones. Ever since my book was published, I’d been inundated with correspondence from older men who wanted to prove they had just as much going for them as the young bucks had. He was no matinee idol but looked presentable enough. No, I wanted the thrill of seeing a beautiful young man over the other side of the dinner table, laughing at my anachronisms and making me giddy with excitement.
So why on earth should I settle for an out-of-condition old codger like him just because society deems it appropriate for me?
Especially not when I still feel vibrant and youthful enough to attract the hot young Pups of this world? ’ sneered one anonymous troll, while others gleefully informed me that my actions meant I faced a sad and lonely old age.
At 65, my date (I’ll call him Jerry) was a few years older than me.
We’d been introduced by a mutual friend who thought we would be a good match.
Thankfully, I learned enough about him on the phone to decide not to go for a drink with him.