I look a lot younger than my age. I feel I do but, more importantly, lots of other people feel I do and they tell me so all the time. Now, one thing I’ve noticed is that everybody tells a woman over 40 that she looks younger than her age…even when she doesn’t. It’s kind of a requirement. In my case, though, it’s really true. And why am I so sure? For a couple of reasons.
Last year, when I was job-hunting, I kept tripping up my prospective employers as they tried to reconcile the dates and my job experience with my “youthful appearance”. (I put that in quotes because I feel kinda silly saying that, although it’s true). A few headhunters even told me to take some of the older dates off my resume because I work in an industry that’s not too friendly to women-of-a-certain age, and they felt I would open myself up to many more opportunities that way because I looked young enough to pull it off. And they were right. I got lots of interviews, many of which I know I wouldn’t have gotten had they known my real age. Looking younger than my age was a real blessing.
I keep meeting men who are really interested in me, and they demonstrate it in all the familiar ways men show that they’re interested: the look in their eyes, the smile in their voice, the efforts they make to get and keep my attention. That is, until they find out how old I am. Then they can’t run away fast enough. Yes, of course, there are lots of guys who like older women and they’re usually younger. Much younger. A little younger, say, 10 years, is nice, but I don’t particularly like dating guys who are way younger than I am. (See Younger Men ).
I happen to like men my own age. They just don’t like me so much. They start out liking me and then they get all stupid on me because apparently dating a grown woman is a problem for them. This would be pretty amazing if it weren’t myself that I’m talking about:
- I had a great time with Kevin (not his real name) for about 6 months, hanging out several times a week doing all kinds of fun things all over New York City. Then he found out my age and freaked out. By the look on his face, you would have thought I’d told him I had a syphilis, not that I was the same age as he was. He thought I was about 15 years younger. About a week later, he cut me off. Said he might want to have a kid; not right now, but someday so he needed to be with a woman who had enough child-bearing years left to produce for him in the future. I’d never heard him mention wanting a kid before.
- Something similar happened the following year. Different guy, same reaction to my age…again, even after he’d known me for awhile. After that, I started telling guys my age on the first or second date. If my age matters to him, he should know sooner rather than later. No need in wasting his time. Mine, either.
- Shortly thereafter, I met a guy at a restaurant while waiting for my friends. My friends were late, so he and I spent 30-45 minutes talking. He had already expressed interest in seeing me again, when he made an awkward comment about his own age. He wondered if I would mind going out with an older man. Obviously he was having his own issues. Poppa was having difficulty accepting his own age and apparently thought a younger woman could help with his self-deception. But as it turns out, I was older than he was. He wasn’t even cool about it. He abruptly paid the bar bill and scrammed.
Now, when I meet a guy, I tell him my age almost immediately. It’s just easier. If he has age issues –about mine or his own– he’ll have to work that out somewhere else. I can’t be bothered.
Who’da thunk looking young would be a bad thing? Insecure men, that’s who.
NOTE: If you like “Spinsterlicious” and want to be notified of new posts, please subscribe in the box on the right –or- if you have a Google Account, you can click on “Follow Me” also on the right, near the bottom. You’ll receive an email each time there’s an update to the blog. Don’t miss a Spinsterlicious update!