The Age Gap
by The Feminist
In high school, I dated a senior as a freshman…for two weeks. He was leaning in to give our first goodbye kiss when I sideswiped him, gave him a hug instead, then dashed out of the hallway. As a then virgin kisser, this moment made me realize not only that perhaps a warm embrace was not enough in a relationship, but that we were on entirely different experience levels.
Then came senior year. I was going through the oh-so typical and dramatic teenage angst and rebellion period of my life and encountered sex for the first time…with a man (key word is “man”) who was significantly older than I was. I was in the moment before I even realized it, and despite all of my supposed strength and revolution, I came to terms with that fact that I was still naive, still not ready. So I did what I did before-flee.
And even now, as a strong-willed and independent college woman, the age gap is still trailing me every single year since I was a preteen. Now, however, instead of finding that I am too young for a guy, I realize that I am too mature for many guys- ranging in all ages:
There has been the freshmen college boys, who although only one year younger than I, find it hard to carry on a conversation devoid of drugs, sex and alcohol. And surprisingly from past experiences, the freshmen generation has apparently become clingy to the point of desperate and nagging. Last semester, I made the mistake of giving out interested signals during one night, and it taking up to two months of ignoring facebook comments, flirty texts, and awkward sightings in public for him to get the point.
There have been boys that are my age- that I have made a rule to avoid in general. This reason mostly pertained to the chances of me running into them in the same residential areas, attending the same classes, and hanging out at the same general places. Furthermore, I have too big of an ego to take someone who is my same age seriously when their credentials don’t match mine, or come even near. Pretentious and arrogant I know…but still true. I can excuse guys that are younger than me because they have the age advantage, and I can get along more with guys older than me because they are more mature than the lather. But for guys that are my exact age, the ones who I should be relating the most to, I find the least in common with.
Finally, there are the older guys. 21 year-olds don’t cut it anymore- they are way too excited about the fact that they can drink legally that if you happen to see them sober three out of seven days of the week, you are lucky. Most of the time, they are still struggling to find out what they want to do with their lives, their goals, and their rent, aka their love life is also in shambles as well. I don’t have patience for 21 year-olds. 22 year-olds aren’t much different; it is just the after-effects of the 21st year lingering. 23, I have found, is the seemingly the most appropriate age for a girl like me at 19. And I have found one! I can have in-depth conversations with him about any topic under the sun, and actually enjoy it. For the first time in a long time, I don’t have to deal with the straightaway sexual comments and suggestive nonverbals. The problem is though, is that with a full-time job and a tiresome attitude toward the parties, the nightlife and the at least occasional stupid humor and playful flirting, he (who I now refer to as G-pa, short for grandpa), is a habitual bore. I mean for heaven’s sakes when has a one to four age difference become a decade of difference? I can’t catch a break! It’s just amazing how at one age a boy is a raging adolescent, and then in one year transform into a man who wears stiff business clothes, disconnects himself with anyone younger than him, and is too “grown-up” to throw a casual get-together.
Love,
The exasperated, restless, sexually and emotionally deprived, and exhausted from crossing out one option after another, FEMINIST
