I always wondered why older women like young boys. I am talking about boys who are decades younger than them.
Now I think I am starting to find out.
Don’t panic. This is not a personal story. I like my husband just fine. I am not searching and neither is he. In fact, my life is so isolated, I don’t get to meet anyone online or offline. Guess what? That is exactly how I like it to be.
I am seeing what I am seeing through a friend of mine. My friend mentioned there was this young boy (at least 15 years younger than her) in her radar.
She is married.
She also was a good girl and married as a ‘tear leather.’
Now she is feeling antsy and experiencing butterflies in her tummy for a young boy. She is not divorced. Not even having problems with her husband. I sort of suspect that she is having a middle age-ish problem.
Similar to what a lot of men go through.
Crossing over 40 is fantastic in some ways. You now know who you are, and you are mostly unafraid to carve out boundaries about you. You are mostly settled in your career and you are not flighty or easy to bamboozle.
But there is also a difficulty in letting go of youth. Admitting to yourself that you are almost over the hill. Or even that you have crossed half of your life. You find a lot of older women around that age struggling to lose weight so that they can look like they once did. They dye their hair (I do) and upgrade to expensive skin care routines.
This is the same point at which you find some men buying sport cars or picking up very young girls; not because their libidos can keep up but because they want to tell themselves that they still got it.
So, my friend is mired in her past of being toasted and feeling young and attractive by nursing this secret crush.
I suspect that I know what she is looking for.
At this stage in our lives, we are in serious adulthood. We have multiple kids and commensurate bills. We have been married for over a decade and the initial sparks of fresh marriage are dull or have disappeared. Also, we live with our equally middle-aged husbands with thickening middles and dimpled buttocks. Receding hairlines coloured to match grey pubic hairs.
Our times are not invested in holding each other and whispering sweet nothings to each other. We are wondering how we can feed the family and still build our dream homes and afford better cars. School fees is a major sucker punch that waits till the pain begins to disappear before striking again.
This is not a romantic phase of life to be in.
We see the little girls who dip and call us Ma flourish; with faces gleaming with youth pulled tightly and naturally over their foreheads. They have perky breasts, actual defined waists, and the gait you walk with; when someone else is responsible for your wellbeing.
As older women, we look at them from tired eyes and try not to think of our child weary breasts that are held away from our stomachs by bras and not gravity. We try not to touch our greying temples subconsciously. We try not to imagine the wild, carefree youthful sex they might be having. For us, sex is a tired activity hastily inserted in a packed itinerary. By now, nothing is new. We can predict the whole process. But we are not really complaining. We are not really that interested in anything more from our partners whom we have argued with all week.
Don’t get me wrong. We do not envy these girls or are jealous of them. No. We just miss being all those things. We miss the time when life was simpler. When Prince Charming was a possibility. Now we know that we are stuck with Baba Remi who sniffs his fingers anytime he scratches his butt.
So the emergence of a younger man is like a salute to our egos. They make us forget about our problems and giggle like schoolgirls.
We would rather think that they are not after what money we may have made. We would like to believe that they saw all the beautiful young girls; but still were attracted to what little feminine charm we have left.
Despite seeming comfortable with Baba Remi and telling ourselves we don’t need romance; we still do want the romance. In fact, we want someone to be giddy in love with us. We want to hold hands and have someone lean into our ears and tell us how beautiful we are.
Though older women, we want the whole nine yards when it comes to foreplay. To cuddle together and watch TV. To tease and fake-fight.
We want all these things and have only stopped saying that we do want them because Baba Remi doesn’t seem to have the energy anymore.
So, when an older woman begins to respond to a younger man; she is not a vampire looking for fresh blood to prevent aging. She probably just wants what the young girls want. Attention. Care. Love.
Back to this my friend. And I promise you that I am not the one.
She won’t do anything with this boy. She truly loves her husband. But who knows, her husband may be reliving his youth through a younger girl and doesn’t see the need of courting a woman he had married already.
Is this sad?
Maybe a little. She will be fine. He will be fine. They will be fine.