My husband is just shy of twenty-years older than me. That might seem weird to some (and society in general), but we get along very well and it's really not an issue with us. I asked him once why he was interested in dating me instead of someone his own age and he replied that most of the women over 40-years of age were bitter old b*ches. I thought that was a rather harsh assessment, but nodded and filed that information away in my brain's filing system.
He may have been correct!
I can't count the number of times that we've been out to dinner or out with our son and some menopausal old bag is glaring daggers in our direction. I'll ask him if he knows the witch in question and he inevitably does not. So he does not know this woman and she feels the need to be so up in our business that she can feel offended by our very relationship? What a bitter old b*tch!
Seriously, what gets up in some women's twats that they get so pissy and b*tchy as they age? Sure young women aren't exempt from the bitchiness, but they don't have the stink of bitterness on them and that bitterness is so unappealing and unattractive. And, damn, some woman are just bitter old b*tches!
My hubs and I were at the grocery store last night. I spotted a woman who looked remarkably like his ex-wife (well, as she looked when I saw her last - around five years ago or so) as we walked in and I mentioned it as I was feeling up the produce. I say feeling up because he asked if I was planning to mouth the zucchini that I was inspecting prior to bagging it. Whatever - some of us don't want to purchase sub-par produce and we thoroughly inspect every single vegetable and fruit that we purchase. (I note that this could be the reason why the produce boys pop boners whenever I show up in their department! haha)
Anyway, I said that I thought I'd seen his ex-wife. He replied that I must have been mistaken because we don't exactly live around the corner from her and her husband. I laughed and agreed that it would have been hella weird if it had been his ex-wife since we were so far from where they live. That's pretty much it.
I didn't talk any sh*t. I didn't carry on about me being twenty-years younger than her. I didn't say that I stole my husband from his first wife (I did not, by the way!) I really don't have anything negative to say about her at all because she was somewhat hospitable toward me when we visited her home (it was a weird visit to make, BTW) and her mother is simply delightful! Actually, I rather like my husband's former mother-in-law and my son likes her very much too! We really are a weird family, right?
And this was it. I wasn't an arrogant younger woman, lording her youth over an older woman. I wasn't being a jerk. I wasn't doing or saying anything that I'd be ashamed to say in front of my entire church congregation.
But for some reason, for some freaking bullsh*t reason, a woman gave me the stink eye over this convo. . .this convo that she was eavesdropping on. I didn't realize at first that this cow was glaring daggers at us, but I did eventually become aware that the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up so I turned around. I turned around to see a middle-aged (not middle aged like me, but like really middle aged) old bag with her eyes narrowed to slits and pointed in my direction. She looked at hubs, looked at me, noted our son, and huffed off with her sack of walnuts.
Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.
Seriously. What the f*ck was her problem? We are a happy family and I'm guessing that our happiness is evident even to strangers. Who in the heck would have a problem with a happy family?
Bitter old b*tches, I guess.
My husband told me that it's to be expected. . .that women of a certain age don't like or trust me because I'm obviously okay with mating with men of a certain age and that makes them (the women) feel insecure. Add in that men of a certain age find me irresistible and I'm in a real pickle.
You know what? I call bullsh*t on the entire situation! F*ck them if they have a problem because it's not my f*cking problem!
I am not a homewrecker. I would have never, never, never broke up a marriage. My husband's ex-wife left nearly ten years before I showed up on the scene. Get that? He was unmarried for nearly a decade before I came along to light up his life.
Nonetheless, how dare this old bag judge me and cast her baleful glare at me? She doesn't know jack sh*t about our relationship and my guess is that she was projecting. I didn't sex up her husband - yeah, I'm assuming her hubs left her. I am not the reason that she is alone and buying sh*tty meals for one in a grocery market. I am not to blame here. . .and yet she projected all of her negativity toward me and it makes me regard her as a bitter old b*tch.
Hubs tells me that I should calmly walk up to those women (we see & note them fairly frequently) and proclaim all sorts of silliness. Basically, to give them something to actually get worked up over. Things like, "He never told me he was married, but I just had to have him so he divorced her for me," or "Your husband never really meant anything to me. . .but this guy (my hubs) made me give up all those middle-aged married men." My hubs has a sicker sense of humor than me at times and that's really saying something!
I love my husband because he gets me as no other person on the planet can possible understand me; we are truly two peas in a pod - well, three peas now and hopefully four eventually! Anyone who comes up with some snarky reason behind our relationship can EABOD and DIAF! Seriously, just F-off!
I know we are May-December. . .but it doesn't matter to us. Why does it matter to anyone else??
Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts
Friday, April 8, 2011
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Facebook Brings Unexpected Connections
I found my ex-husband on Facebook. I feaking found my ex-husband on Facebook!! I found him and. . .and. . .and I wanted to help him.
I am a soft touch and, God help me, I still feel for him. No, I am not in love with him. . . but the love I had for him at one time didn't cease to exist because I no longer wanted to be married to him. I have regarded him with furious anger to outright indifference for a long time and, over the last several years, I've realized that I want him to have the same happiness that I now experience.
I don't want anyone to suffer and, when I read of his pain and desperation, I couldn't help but be moved. I felt his hurt. I felt his loneliness. I felt his separation. I teared up and damn near wept for him and his situation.
And so I reached out to him.
I didn't offer him money or a place to stay or an invitation to get back together. I offered him hope and encouragement- along with my unsolicited advice. I thought it was important to tell him that I forgive him and that there is nothing anyone can do that is unforgivable because everything can be forgiven. He knows this truth, but sometimes we all need the reminder.
I know that I'll regret my kind & loving heart and I kinda feel like a total @sshole for caring at all, but there you go. I'd rather be the @sshole who is an @sshole for caring too much about people than the @sshole who is the @sshole for not caring at all about others.
I am a soft touch and, God help me, I still feel for him. No, I am not in love with him. . . but the love I had for him at one time didn't cease to exist because I no longer wanted to be married to him. I have regarded him with furious anger to outright indifference for a long time and, over the last several years, I've realized that I want him to have the same happiness that I now experience.
I don't want anyone to suffer and, when I read of his pain and desperation, I couldn't help but be moved. I felt his hurt. I felt his loneliness. I felt his separation. I teared up and damn near wept for him and his situation.
And so I reached out to him.
I didn't offer him money or a place to stay or an invitation to get back together. I offered him hope and encouragement- along with my unsolicited advice. I thought it was important to tell him that I forgive him and that there is nothing anyone can do that is unforgivable because everything can be forgiven. He knows this truth, but sometimes we all need the reminder.
I know that I'll regret my kind & loving heart and I kinda feel like a total @sshole for caring at all, but there you go. I'd rather be the @sshole who is an @sshole for caring too much about people than the @sshole who is the @sshole for not caring at all about others.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Did I Just Say THAT?!
My hubs and I are currently watching Chinatown. If you've never seen this modern-ish film noir (feels weird to call an over 30-year old film "modern"), I highly recommend it! Director Roman Polanski is most definitely a creepy fucking rapist and sodomizer of severely underaged girls, but that midget sure could make a freaking movie!
Anyway, we were watching the scene where Jake arrived at Catalina. His contact at Avalon harbor was driving a woody. My husband said, "That's a nice woody!" My response was a classic and one that I'm sure you can see a mile away. . .
"I'd rather ride on a woody than in a woody."
Yeah, I'm classy in that way. I always knew there was something he liked about me! I'm sure that my hubs found my admission tremendously amusing and enlightening. At least, I hope he did! haha
Anyway, we were watching the scene where Jake arrived at Catalina. His contact at Avalon harbor was driving a woody. My husband said, "That's a nice woody!" My response was a classic and one that I'm sure you can see a mile away. . .
"I'd rather ride on a woody than in a woody."
Yeah, I'm classy in that way. I always knew there was something he liked about me! I'm sure that my hubs found my admission tremendously amusing and enlightening. At least, I hope he did! haha
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Happy 10th Un-iversary
Happy un-iversary to me! Today would have been my tenth anniversary had I not somehow found the good sense to flee my first marriage. I'm a little surprised that it has already been ten years. I would have bet money that it was only a few years ago that I first walked down the aisle to completely give myself to another human being. It really is true that the years seem to fly by as you grow older. . .
What about that marriage? I went from being optimistic about the future with the person who is my ex-husband to having my spirit so totally crushed and broken that the only way to escape the pain was to drink myself unconscious every night. I rapidly became the very definition of a highly functioning alcoholic. I would think about drinking when I wasn't drinking and I started drinking from the moment I walked in my front door until I blissfully passed out at night. There reached a point where I didn't even bother with a glass because it was just one more thing that I'd have to clean and it wasted time to pour. Eventually, I simply disappeared upstairs with my booze and didn't go back downstairs until it was time to go to work in the morning.
I did little more than work, laundry, housecleaning, cooking, and hard drinking. More than hating him, and I burned with a furious hot anger toward him, I hated myself. I hated my life. It was only natural that my mind frequently dwelled in the darkest places one can go and my introspection only led me to one conclusion.
I hated my own cowardice that all I could bring myself to do was fondle and mouth my cocked revolver. How I longed for the guts to pull just a little more on that trigger! I can still recall the weight of that gun in my hand, the fear that it might slip and I'd only receive a non-fatal wound. That led me to snake the weapon down from my temple, across my cheek, and pushed firmly into my open mouth. I'll never forget what that cold metal barrel felt like resting on my tongue, against my teeth and lips. It's something that I hope to never taste again.
Being full of "her body, her choice," I felt it was my right to take a life that was in my control - my own. Thankfully, there was another option - divorce - and I took it. I've often referred to divorce as "the atomic option" and it really is. . .every now & then it's necessary to drop an atomic bomb. Sure, it burns you too and leaves you suffering with radiation poisoning, but it beats the hell out of the casualties associated with fighting a more traditional marital war.
Interestingly enough, I knew from the wedding night that I had made a huge mistake. And that is all I will say on that. I realize now that it would have been easier to simply annul the marriage the following Monday, but I am not a quitter and I hate failing so I tried my best to stick it out. I figured that I could make it work. In my naivete, I didn't realize that it takes more than just one to make a marriage work.
I lasted until December 30, 2002. That's the day I reclaimed my spirit and I filed for divorce. I was so miserable being married that I swore I would never do such a stupid thing again. I wasn't swearing off men, of course, I just wasn't going to tether myself to them and was definitely going to keep my options open. That lasted exactly one date. . .that's all it took for me to know that my hubs was someone special, someone to cherish, someone to love. Yes, I married my rebound guy.
I find it odd that I cried the day that the State of California recognized the dissolution of my first marriage. I wasn't sad that I was divorced; I was sad that I had failed. I sobbed in the arms of the man who I would marry just two short years later. Hubs didn't judge me for my tears and he actually encouraged me to continue processing the grief that accompanied the loss of that marriage.
I must confess that I do kind of have mixed feelings about this being what would have been my tenth anniversary. That's not to say that I regret my decision to burn that marriage to the ground. It's just that I realize my happiness with my hubs and our son would have never been possible had I not suffered through that dark and helpless period of time. I don't think that I could have appreciated what a wonderful man I married had I not first married a less-than-wonderful person. The years have allowed me to look back and give thanks for even that misery. . .it is so true that everything - everything - can be used for good.
What about that marriage? I went from being optimistic about the future with the person who is my ex-husband to having my spirit so totally crushed and broken that the only way to escape the pain was to drink myself unconscious every night. I rapidly became the very definition of a highly functioning alcoholic. I would think about drinking when I wasn't drinking and I started drinking from the moment I walked in my front door until I blissfully passed out at night. There reached a point where I didn't even bother with a glass because it was just one more thing that I'd have to clean and it wasted time to pour. Eventually, I simply disappeared upstairs with my booze and didn't go back downstairs until it was time to go to work in the morning.
I did little more than work, laundry, housecleaning, cooking, and hard drinking. More than hating him, and I burned with a furious hot anger toward him, I hated myself. I hated my life. It was only natural that my mind frequently dwelled in the darkest places one can go and my introspection only led me to one conclusion.
I hated my own cowardice that all I could bring myself to do was fondle and mouth my cocked revolver. How I longed for the guts to pull just a little more on that trigger! I can still recall the weight of that gun in my hand, the fear that it might slip and I'd only receive a non-fatal wound. That led me to snake the weapon down from my temple, across my cheek, and pushed firmly into my open mouth. I'll never forget what that cold metal barrel felt like resting on my tongue, against my teeth and lips. It's something that I hope to never taste again.
Being full of "her body, her choice," I felt it was my right to take a life that was in my control - my own. Thankfully, there was another option - divorce - and I took it. I've often referred to divorce as "the atomic option" and it really is. . .every now & then it's necessary to drop an atomic bomb. Sure, it burns you too and leaves you suffering with radiation poisoning, but it beats the hell out of the casualties associated with fighting a more traditional marital war.
Interestingly enough, I knew from the wedding night that I had made a huge mistake. And that is all I will say on that. I realize now that it would have been easier to simply annul the marriage the following Monday, but I am not a quitter and I hate failing so I tried my best to stick it out. I figured that I could make it work. In my naivete, I didn't realize that it takes more than just one to make a marriage work.
I lasted until December 30, 2002. That's the day I reclaimed my spirit and I filed for divorce. I was so miserable being married that I swore I would never do such a stupid thing again. I wasn't swearing off men, of course, I just wasn't going to tether myself to them and was definitely going to keep my options open. That lasted exactly one date. . .that's all it took for me to know that my hubs was someone special, someone to cherish, someone to love. Yes, I married my rebound guy.
I find it odd that I cried the day that the State of California recognized the dissolution of my first marriage. I wasn't sad that I was divorced; I was sad that I had failed. I sobbed in the arms of the man who I would marry just two short years later. Hubs didn't judge me for my tears and he actually encouraged me to continue processing the grief that accompanied the loss of that marriage.
I must confess that I do kind of have mixed feelings about this being what would have been my tenth anniversary. That's not to say that I regret my decision to burn that marriage to the ground. It's just that I realize my happiness with my hubs and our son would have never been possible had I not suffered through that dark and helpless period of time. I don't think that I could have appreciated what a wonderful man I married had I not first married a less-than-wonderful person. The years have allowed me to look back and give thanks for even that misery. . .it is so true that everything - everything - can be used for good.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Something's Cooking
Just once it would be nice to have every aspect of life clipping along on cruise control, a relaxing drive in a sweet ride. However, my husband and I don't live like that. I suppose we need to feel the action to continue propelling us forward.
We apparently think nothing of extending ourselves in fifteen different directions and this week is no exception. My husband is having spinal surgery tomorrow morning, but we put something in motion today. . .something big and exciting. No, it has nothing to do with penis; though that's big & exciting too - haha! In addition to this particular thing we were working on today, there is another fantastically unique opportunity that is simmering quietly while he patiently awaits a response.
I can't specify exactly what it is that we're brewing and the ball is in someone else's court at the moment. I know that I'm ridiculously superstitious, but my fingers are crossed. More importantly, I'm praying that all this works out in a truly spectacular way. In the meantime, the suspense is driving me insane!
We apparently think nothing of extending ourselves in fifteen different directions and this week is no exception. My husband is having spinal surgery tomorrow morning, but we put something in motion today. . .something big and exciting. No, it has nothing to do with penis; though that's big & exciting too - haha! In addition to this particular thing we were working on today, there is another fantastically unique opportunity that is simmering quietly while he patiently awaits a response.
I can't specify exactly what it is that we're brewing and the ball is in someone else's court at the moment. I know that I'm ridiculously superstitious, but my fingers are crossed. More importantly, I'm praying that all this works out in a truly spectacular way. In the meantime, the suspense is driving me insane!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
I'm a Widow
An iPhone widow, that is. Rest easy, my hubs isn't going anywhere anytime soon!
I want to send the biggest nasty-gram to Verizon for getting the iPhone because this stupid damned phone is rapidly becoming a wedge in my marriage. I semi-jokingly refer to my husband's iPhone as his girlfriend. Notice that I said "semi." He's so enamoured with this freaking phone that I am officially jealous.
I realize there is hypocrisy at work here. I am very chummy with my Magic Wand. Oh, I adore the Magic Wand and it is absolutely my favorite "appliance". . .but I don't ignore my husband so I can make out with my favorite vibrator. And I certainly don't tote it around with me!
I'm still incredibly desirous of my husband, even after nearly six-years of marriage, but I sometimes think he'd rather than play with his bitch iPhone than his young and horny wife. We had a rare night out to dinner without our little boy the other night to celebrate my husband's 55th birthday. I was stunned when he pulled his stupid friggin' phone out at the table once he'd finished his meal. I actually told him that it was bad taste to play with his girlfriend while his wife was at the table. Then I drowned my sorrow and frustration in a Grey Goose martini, straight up, with two olives.
Later that night, I damn near jumped off of him when I discovered the iPhone lounging so languid on my husband's bedside table. Seriously? She spends the night in our bedroom too?! The Blackberry never did, but the iPhone does. Umm, okay.
So what's the nerdy appeal at work here? Why is this phone so damn captivating? It can't suck him off, it can't eagerly spread it's legs, it can't do anything that I can and will do, but it gets more attention than I do. What the heck is the deal? I finally told him that he should just fuck it already. Is there an app for that??
He tells me that I just don't understand because I don't have an iPhone. Perhaps I don't understand. I'm not a big dork and I don't give a crap about electronic stuff so I'll likely never understand. But I still had to grit my teeth when he dragged me to the Apple store in the stupid mall on a friggin' Sunday so he could purchase baubles for his new love. I notice that I didn't get any new baubles. . .
I have discovered that I'm not the only iPhone widow. It appears that the iPhone seduces any man it comes in contact with and I know several frustrated wives. Are you an iPhone philanderer or an iPhone widow? Please share your experiences below!
I want to send the biggest nasty-gram to Verizon for getting the iPhone because this stupid damned phone is rapidly becoming a wedge in my marriage. I semi-jokingly refer to my husband's iPhone as his girlfriend. Notice that I said "semi." He's so enamoured with this freaking phone that I am officially jealous.
I realize there is hypocrisy at work here. I am very chummy with my Magic Wand. Oh, I adore the Magic Wand and it is absolutely my favorite "appliance". . .but I don't ignore my husband so I can make out with my favorite vibrator. And I certainly don't tote it around with me!
I'm still incredibly desirous of my husband, even after nearly six-years of marriage, but I sometimes think he'd rather than play with his bitch iPhone than his young and horny wife. We had a rare night out to dinner without our little boy the other night to celebrate my husband's 55th birthday. I was stunned when he pulled his stupid friggin' phone out at the table once he'd finished his meal. I actually told him that it was bad taste to play with his girlfriend while his wife was at the table. Then I drowned my sorrow and frustration in a Grey Goose martini, straight up, with two olives.
Later that night, I damn near jumped off of him when I discovered the iPhone lounging so languid on my husband's bedside table. Seriously? She spends the night in our bedroom too?! The Blackberry never did, but the iPhone does. Umm, okay.
So what's the nerdy appeal at work here? Why is this phone so damn captivating? It can't suck him off, it can't eagerly spread it's legs, it can't do anything that I can and will do, but it gets more attention than I do. What the heck is the deal? I finally told him that he should just fuck it already. Is there an app for that??
He tells me that I just don't understand because I don't have an iPhone. Perhaps I don't understand. I'm not a big dork and I don't give a crap about electronic stuff so I'll likely never understand. But I still had to grit my teeth when he dragged me to the Apple store in the stupid mall on a friggin' Sunday so he could purchase baubles for his new love. I notice that I didn't get any new baubles. . .
I have discovered that I'm not the only iPhone widow. It appears that the iPhone seduces any man it comes in contact with and I know several frustrated wives. Are you an iPhone philanderer or an iPhone widow? Please share your experiences below!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
I've Had an Epiphany. . .that is Probably Obvious to Everyone!
I'm so excited to report that I've had an epiphany!
I've always thought it was weird when someone has a very definite "type" that they're interested in, but have noticed that I'm extremely predictable when it comes to the men I pick for dating, mating, and marriage. I know that I've mentioned my proclivities in this blog, but I only realized today that I've had a "type" since I was a teenager. We're always the last to know what's patently obvious to the rest of the world, right?
Desires change over time and, when I was a young teen, I had preferences that differ somewhat from my current choices. In a nutshell, I wouldn't look twice if they didn't have dark skin, hair, and eyes. No blond-haired or blue-eyed albinos were gonna get a piece of my action! I used to joke with my BFF that I was like the UN of dating because every ethnicity and nationality was equally represented. Of course, that's a little bit of an exaggeration!
I was busily watching mid-70s era Eric Clapton videos on youtube while my son napped this afternoon. Shocking, huh? Anyway, I was admiring his full head of hair, his face full of fuzz, and his skinny hips when it hit me - I've been attracted to this look since I was around 17-years old. I'm not saying that I felt all tingly in my girlie parts when looking at 65-year old men, but I'm also not saying that I didn't. In case you're interested, I did today!
But I realized why I like that "type" and it was a revelation to me. I was with a man who sported that exact look back in 1992 or so. We weren't exactly boyfriend-girlfriend in that it wasn't a societally appropriate relationship and I never considered bringing him to meet my parents, but he was absolutely taken with me and I thought he was just wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.
Over the years, I've often thought with disdain about the men who were with my under-aged self. As an adult, I find it repugnant that grown men would take advantage of such a young girl. Sure, I was hot to trot, but I was still a friggin' kid and they should have practiced a little self-control.
Interestingly, I've never lumped this particular man in with that group for some damn reason - and he was far & away the oldest to have me! Why do I give him a pass? I don't know. I guess because he loved me. And, oh, how he loved me. Even as a young girl, I could see that I was a feminized ideal to him. I was the Yoko to his John and he was so smitten. Just over the moon. He made me feel perfect and lovely, two things that I haven't felt very frequently. He cherished me and, though I loved him the best I could and I felt alive and free when I was with him, I could not stop myself from pushing him away.
Was it the 25-year age difference? Was it the knowledge that he didn't have and never wanted children? Was it that I feared my parents' certain negative response? I think it was all of those things and the fact that I actively sabotaged my own happiness for many, many years. In hindsight, I know that I could have been happy with him.
I've thought of him often over the years. . .wondering if he replaced me in his heart and yearning to see him just once more. Did he ever find someone more perfectly lovely than me? I hope he did, but on some selfish & childish level, I hope he didn't because I loved being that piece of feminine perfection for someone.
I can't listen to Cat Stevens sing Wild World without thinking of him. I can't see a specific print without thinking of him. I can't give a bearded man a hug & kiss without thinking of him for just a fleeting moment. And, I suppose in some weird way, I desire the men I desire because I never lost my desire and admiration for this particular man.
My husband and I have discussed this relationship a time or two and hubs is fairly disgusted by it all. Not that he's jealous (if you know my hubs you know that he's one of the most confident men on the planet), but that he thinks this man was a total freaking pervert. Yes, 25-years is a big freaking difference when one person in the relationship is only 17. Yes, it was illegal as it gets. Yes, I can understand that some people just won't understand.
But I maintain that if my husband knew my 17-year old self, he'd also find it impossible to resist my charms. Long dark hair straight down to my waist, only weighed around 115-pounds, teeny-tiny waist with nicely rounded hips, and a free & loose attitude toward sex. Damn, I think I just turned myself on by talking about myself!
Really though, hubs should probably send this man a Thank You note because he opened my eyes to the excitement that can only be found with significantly older lovers. Yeah, a 19-year old kid might bang you all night long, but a man knows how to take his time, how to get all cylinders firing, how to take direction, and how to satisfy intellectually. Perhaps that last bit only applies to me, but I can not get stimulated sexually if I'm intellectually strangled.
So there it is; that's my epiphany. My love of older and bewhiskered men is directly traceable to one man. Sometimes I find it crazy how your past shapes your present and your future.
Wherever he is now, I hope he has the same happiness that I experience. . .and I still kind of wonder if he ever fondly remembers me.
I've always thought it was weird when someone has a very definite "type" that they're interested in, but have noticed that I'm extremely predictable when it comes to the men I pick for dating, mating, and marriage. I know that I've mentioned my proclivities in this blog, but I only realized today that I've had a "type" since I was a teenager. We're always the last to know what's patently obvious to the rest of the world, right?
Desires change over time and, when I was a young teen, I had preferences that differ somewhat from my current choices. In a nutshell, I wouldn't look twice if they didn't have dark skin, hair, and eyes. No blond-haired or blue-eyed albinos were gonna get a piece of my action! I used to joke with my BFF that I was like the UN of dating because every ethnicity and nationality was equally represented. Of course, that's a little bit of an exaggeration!
I was busily watching mid-70s era Eric Clapton videos on youtube while my son napped this afternoon. Shocking, huh? Anyway, I was admiring his full head of hair, his face full of fuzz, and his skinny hips when it hit me - I've been attracted to this look since I was around 17-years old. I'm not saying that I felt all tingly in my girlie parts when looking at 65-year old men, but I'm also not saying that I didn't. In case you're interested, I did today!
But I realized why I like that "type" and it was a revelation to me. I was with a man who sported that exact look back in 1992 or so. We weren't exactly boyfriend-girlfriend in that it wasn't a societally appropriate relationship and I never considered bringing him to meet my parents, but he was absolutely taken with me and I thought he was just wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.
Over the years, I've often thought with disdain about the men who were with my under-aged self. As an adult, I find it repugnant that grown men would take advantage of such a young girl. Sure, I was hot to trot, but I was still a friggin' kid and they should have practiced a little self-control.
Interestingly, I've never lumped this particular man in with that group for some damn reason - and he was far & away the oldest to have me! Why do I give him a pass? I don't know. I guess because he loved me. And, oh, how he loved me. Even as a young girl, I could see that I was a feminized ideal to him. I was the Yoko to his John and he was so smitten. Just over the moon. He made me feel perfect and lovely, two things that I haven't felt very frequently. He cherished me and, though I loved him the best I could and I felt alive and free when I was with him, I could not stop myself from pushing him away.
Was it the 25-year age difference? Was it the knowledge that he didn't have and never wanted children? Was it that I feared my parents' certain negative response? I think it was all of those things and the fact that I actively sabotaged my own happiness for many, many years. In hindsight, I know that I could have been happy with him.
I've thought of him often over the years. . .wondering if he replaced me in his heart and yearning to see him just once more. Did he ever find someone more perfectly lovely than me? I hope he did, but on some selfish & childish level, I hope he didn't because I loved being that piece of feminine perfection for someone.
I can't listen to Cat Stevens sing Wild World without thinking of him. I can't see a specific print without thinking of him. I can't give a bearded man a hug & kiss without thinking of him for just a fleeting moment. And, I suppose in some weird way, I desire the men I desire because I never lost my desire and admiration for this particular man.
My husband and I have discussed this relationship a time or two and hubs is fairly disgusted by it all. Not that he's jealous (if you know my hubs you know that he's one of the most confident men on the planet), but that he thinks this man was a total freaking pervert. Yes, 25-years is a big freaking difference when one person in the relationship is only 17. Yes, it was illegal as it gets. Yes, I can understand that some people just won't understand.
But I maintain that if my husband knew my 17-year old self, he'd also find it impossible to resist my charms. Long dark hair straight down to my waist, only weighed around 115-pounds, teeny-tiny waist with nicely rounded hips, and a free & loose attitude toward sex. Damn, I think I just turned myself on by talking about myself!
Really though, hubs should probably send this man a Thank You note because he opened my eyes to the excitement that can only be found with significantly older lovers. Yeah, a 19-year old kid might bang you all night long, but a man knows how to take his time, how to get all cylinders firing, how to take direction, and how to satisfy intellectually. Perhaps that last bit only applies to me, but I can not get stimulated sexually if I'm intellectually strangled.
So there it is; that's my epiphany. My love of older and bewhiskered men is directly traceable to one man. Sometimes I find it crazy how your past shapes your present and your future.
Wherever he is now, I hope he has the same happiness that I experience. . .and I still kind of wonder if he ever fondly remembers me.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
What Was I Thinking?
My body is stubbornly keeping my baby so I'm still waiting for this miscarriage to complete. It's been a week and a half since my baby died and I thought this nightmare would have been over by now. This waiting is torture, but I almost welcome the torment because I deserve it.
I mentioned to my husband that I might ask my doctor about sterilization options when I see him next week. My husband was surprised and asked why I'd want to know about such things. The answer is ridiculously simple: I don't want to experience this ever again and I'm willing to deprive my son of siblings in order to avoid it. I don't care how selfish that sounds because that's how I feel.
I've never thought that my husband is naive, but I'm beginning to think that my husband's naivete is greater than mine. Even though it took over a year and a half to get pregnant with this failed pregnancy, he seems to think that I'll get pregnant with no problem and go on to have a perfectly fine pregnancy. I wish I could believe that, but I don't. As I said the other day, my faith just isn't that strong.
I've been finding myself playing the "If only. . ." game. It's like the "What if. . ." game only full of more regret. If only I hadn't married my ex-husband, I could have started dating my husband several years earlier. If only my husband and I had decided to get married right away instead of screwing around for a couple of years. If only we had started a family right after getting married instead of enjoying each other so thoroughly.
Let's face it, these "if only" exercises highlight what's really bothering me. If only I wasn't in my mid-30s and he wasn't in his mid-50s, if only that then I'm sure we wouldn't have found it so hard to conceive our son or this poor baby. I've never spent much time regretting decisions I've made with my life, but I am now.
What was I thinking? Why did I wait so long to settle down, to get married, to start a family? I may be stupid, but I'm not dumb. So why did I make such stupid choices with my life? Why was it so damned important that I accomplish the things I wanted to accomplish prior to starting a family? Why did I do this to myself?
I know how women's fertility works. I know the age when it starts to decrease and children weren't even remotely on my radar at that time. I stupidly thought that getting pregnant in my mid-30s would be as easy as getting pregnant in my mid-20s. Guess what? It isn't.
I'm aware that plenty of women have no trouble getting pregnant in their 30s and beyond. I'm glad for them because they are fortunate, but I am not one of those women.
I thought I was so damn smart to delay parenthood and focus solely on growing my financial health. I've never had trouble making money. I've never had trouble managing my finances. I've never had trouble getting ahead in "life." No, my problem is worse and harder to remedy. I have trouble creating and sustaining life. It took a long time to conceive my son and it took more than twice as long to conceive this baby who didn't even make it to the second trimester. You can always make money, but you can't always easily make a family.
My husband doesn't think I should inquire about sterilization options so I probably won't. He's smarter than me and perhaps his emotions aren't so battered so he may be thinking more clearly than I am right now. I just don't know and I guess I won't know until the time comes to bring it up or not.
I mentioned to my husband that I might ask my doctor about sterilization options when I see him next week. My husband was surprised and asked why I'd want to know about such things. The answer is ridiculously simple: I don't want to experience this ever again and I'm willing to deprive my son of siblings in order to avoid it. I don't care how selfish that sounds because that's how I feel.
I've never thought that my husband is naive, but I'm beginning to think that my husband's naivete is greater than mine. Even though it took over a year and a half to get pregnant with this failed pregnancy, he seems to think that I'll get pregnant with no problem and go on to have a perfectly fine pregnancy. I wish I could believe that, but I don't. As I said the other day, my faith just isn't that strong.
I've been finding myself playing the "If only. . ." game. It's like the "What if. . ." game only full of more regret. If only I hadn't married my ex-husband, I could have started dating my husband several years earlier. If only my husband and I had decided to get married right away instead of screwing around for a couple of years. If only we had started a family right after getting married instead of enjoying each other so thoroughly.
Let's face it, these "if only" exercises highlight what's really bothering me. If only I wasn't in my mid-30s and he wasn't in his mid-50s, if only that then I'm sure we wouldn't have found it so hard to conceive our son or this poor baby. I've never spent much time regretting decisions I've made with my life, but I am now.
What was I thinking? Why did I wait so long to settle down, to get married, to start a family? I may be stupid, but I'm not dumb. So why did I make such stupid choices with my life? Why was it so damned important that I accomplish the things I wanted to accomplish prior to starting a family? Why did I do this to myself?
I know how women's fertility works. I know the age when it starts to decrease and children weren't even remotely on my radar at that time. I stupidly thought that getting pregnant in my mid-30s would be as easy as getting pregnant in my mid-20s. Guess what? It isn't.
I'm aware that plenty of women have no trouble getting pregnant in their 30s and beyond. I'm glad for them because they are fortunate, but I am not one of those women.
I thought I was so damn smart to delay parenthood and focus solely on growing my financial health. I've never had trouble making money. I've never had trouble managing my finances. I've never had trouble getting ahead in "life." No, my problem is worse and harder to remedy. I have trouble creating and sustaining life. It took a long time to conceive my son and it took more than twice as long to conceive this baby who didn't even make it to the second trimester. You can always make money, but you can't always easily make a family.
My husband doesn't think I should inquire about sterilization options so I probably won't. He's smarter than me and perhaps his emotions aren't so battered so he may be thinking more clearly than I am right now. I just don't know and I guess I won't know until the time comes to bring it up or not.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Misunderstanding May-December Marriages
I watched a short movie the other day while my son took his afternoon nap. The description caught my eye for a couple of reasons: it was about book editors and it featured a May-December romance. I have been working on four books (in 3 different genres!) for more years than I care admit and I am in a May-December marriage so I figured that Suburban Girl would be right up my alley. After pushing myself to watch the entire thing, I think it belongs up the screenwriter's ass.
I wrote about my May-December marriage one year ago. The only thing that has changed since then is that we are both one year older and I'm pregnant again. We get along shockingly well and I would guess that our relationship is similar to any other couple who has been married for 5 1/2-years. We have a significant age difference, but I'm pretty sure that we have the same hopes and concerns as any other couple raising young children together.
Sure, my husband is in his 50s, but it isn't like we spend our evenings discussing retirement plans or whether Metamucil works. My knowledge about pop culture is not limited to the pages of Star or In Touch and I can't think of a single time that he's brought up a topic related to celebrity or history that I know nothing about. Similarly, I don't only want to talk about whatever it is that 30-something women like to talk about and, thanks to a daily dose of the internet, he's always known who I'm talking about when I mention the latest celebretard or pop tart.
This movie I watched took great pains to depict a May-December romance that fits society's pre-conceived notions. The man is emotionally damaged and self-destructive, a lecherous chauvinist with a taste for young female flesh. The object of his desire is fresh and naive, in need of a hand up in life. A slightly kinky Cinderella, if you will. Ultimately, they are just too different and, thanks to his support and tutelage, she has grown enough as a woman to walk away and move on by herself. Fade to black and roll the credits. It's so damned cliche and predictable that I could have churned out the entire screenplay in about an hour.
May-December relationships don't necessarily have such significant inequality and I submit that problems will manifest in any relationship built on such a lopsided foundation. I believe that statement to be true even if both partners are the same age. I don't know why I feel the need to rant about this issue. I guess because May-December relationships are an easy target for derision since they aren't the norm.
Why do I think my May-December marriage works? Because my husband doesn't act like he's my teacher and I don't take the role of his student. He's not my father and I am not his daughter. He is not my mentor, he is my husband. . .and I love him to bits.
I wrote about my May-December marriage one year ago. The only thing that has changed since then is that we are both one year older and I'm pregnant again. We get along shockingly well and I would guess that our relationship is similar to any other couple who has been married for 5 1/2-years. We have a significant age difference, but I'm pretty sure that we have the same hopes and concerns as any other couple raising young children together.
Sure, my husband is in his 50s, but it isn't like we spend our evenings discussing retirement plans or whether Metamucil works. My knowledge about pop culture is not limited to the pages of Star or In Touch and I can't think of a single time that he's brought up a topic related to celebrity or history that I know nothing about. Similarly, I don't only want to talk about whatever it is that 30-something women like to talk about and, thanks to a daily dose of the internet, he's always known who I'm talking about when I mention the latest celebretard or pop tart.
This movie I watched took great pains to depict a May-December romance that fits society's pre-conceived notions. The man is emotionally damaged and self-destructive, a lecherous chauvinist with a taste for young female flesh. The object of his desire is fresh and naive, in need of a hand up in life. A slightly kinky Cinderella, if you will. Ultimately, they are just too different and, thanks to his support and tutelage, she has grown enough as a woman to walk away and move on by herself. Fade to black and roll the credits. It's so damned cliche and predictable that I could have churned out the entire screenplay in about an hour.
May-December relationships don't necessarily have such significant inequality and I submit that problems will manifest in any relationship built on such a lopsided foundation. I believe that statement to be true even if both partners are the same age. I don't know why I feel the need to rant about this issue. I guess because May-December relationships are an easy target for derision since they aren't the norm.
Why do I think my May-December marriage works? Because my husband doesn't act like he's my teacher and I don't take the role of his student. He's not my father and I am not his daughter. He is not my mentor, he is my husband. . .and I love him to bits.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Let Love Win
If anyone should have an axe to grind against homosexuals marrying, it should be me. Some, maybe most, of my readership realizes what I mean. I truly believe that I would not have suffered my first marriage had homosexual acceptance been more widespread.
Note that I'm not saying to celebrate homosexuality or otherwise edify it. I'm saying to give it the same amount of consideration as you would heterosexuality or any bedroom kink. Which is to say, don't worry about it or think of it at all if it doesn't concern or interest you.
Understand that condeming homosexuals closets them. Closeted people do foolish things to make themselves appear heterosexual to fit in with society. Foolish things like marrying a sweet young woman. Foolish things like trying to start a family with their new wife. Foolish things like carrying on secret affairs and potentially exposing their naive wife to any number of STDs. I can not accept a situation that leads people to so desperately deny who they are that they are willing to drag another person into their deception to make themselves look complete by society's standards.
Yesterday it was ruled that California's Prop 8 is unconstitutional.
Once upon a time, I actually gave a crap who could or couldn't be "married." I mistakenly thought that homosexuals could have "civil unions" and heterosexuals could have "marriage" and everything would be fine. I kept thinking it was just a semantics issue, but I guess it wasn't.
I can admit that I was wrong. I was totally wrong. I mean, as we've seen time and time again, "separate, but equal" never is truly equal. Do people really want inequality? I know that I don't. And, again, this is the opinion of someone who was left with major issues about homosexuals in the wake of a painful marriage and divorce. But my personal issues don't mean that I support inequality.
What is marriage anyway? Basically, it's forming a legally recognized partnership within a state. Kind of like a business. Would we ever legislate who should be allowed to go into business? No, we wouldn't. And the free market would revolt against the very notion of government dictating who can form a company.
I have heard many people say that allowing homosexuals to marry would make a mockery of marriage and that we must prevent them from marrying to protect the sanctity of marriage. I say that is complete and utter bullsh*t. If anyone has made a mockery of marriage, it's the heterosexuals who have had the right all along. Seriously. We can get what basically amounts to a drive-thru wedding ceremony and we can dissolve a marriage almost as quickly. Speaking of such things, does not divorce in general make a mockery of the very idea of marriage being sanctified?
Personally, I look at marriage itself as a religious rite. I really wish that the government wasn't involved in it at all. Unfortunately, our laws and tax code are set up to encourage certain things: homeownership, child rearing (no gay jokes, please), and marriage. With that in mind, why can't the government just issue civil union licenses to anyone over the age of majority? Gay, straight, polygamist (I don't have a problem with polygamy either), everyone. Let all of these persons enjoy the same rights and benefits. Would anyone have a legitimate objection to this? If there is one, I just don't see it.
If the government is issuing only civil union licenses, let marriage remain a religious rite that conveys no special societal or financial perks. Kind of like a christening or communion ceremony. The only people who would care to participate in such a ceremony are those who are active in a denomination or those who would like to join a congregation. This also preserves the rights of a clergy person to accept or deny a request to perform the ceremony.
Before anyone gets their panties twisted about a clergy person denying a request to perform a ceremony, understand that they can do it right now. Indeed, the person who conducted my second wedding ceremony didn't seem all that keen to marry us because we weren't active in a church, we'd both been married previously, and we were living together. He actually suggested that we might as well have a judge conduct our ceremony. Over time, we joined his congregation and won him over in our pre-marital counseling sessions. But he absolutely had the right to discriminate against us based on our history and what was then our present state.
Ultimately, if homosexuals are willing to make the same commitment that heterosexuals make, why shouldn't they be able to do so? They should. And, if they are willing to make the same commitment, why should they be refused the same rights and benefits? They shouldn't be denied.
I can't lie; I wouldn't exactly do cartwheels if my son ended up being a homosexual and I also wouldn't be thrilled if he blazed a path across the bedrooms of countless women. But I wouldn't want him to be punished for either and I'll still love my son no matter what.
Live and let live and let love live. Yesterday's decision wasn't a judgement against hate. It was a victory for love.
Note that I'm not saying to celebrate homosexuality or otherwise edify it. I'm saying to give it the same amount of consideration as you would heterosexuality or any bedroom kink. Which is to say, don't worry about it or think of it at all if it doesn't concern or interest you.
Understand that condeming homosexuals closets them. Closeted people do foolish things to make themselves appear heterosexual to fit in with society. Foolish things like marrying a sweet young woman. Foolish things like trying to start a family with their new wife. Foolish things like carrying on secret affairs and potentially exposing their naive wife to any number of STDs. I can not accept a situation that leads people to so desperately deny who they are that they are willing to drag another person into their deception to make themselves look complete by society's standards.
Yesterday it was ruled that California's Prop 8 is unconstitutional.
Once upon a time, I actually gave a crap who could or couldn't be "married." I mistakenly thought that homosexuals could have "civil unions" and heterosexuals could have "marriage" and everything would be fine. I kept thinking it was just a semantics issue, but I guess it wasn't.
I can admit that I was wrong. I was totally wrong. I mean, as we've seen time and time again, "separate, but equal" never is truly equal. Do people really want inequality? I know that I don't. And, again, this is the opinion of someone who was left with major issues about homosexuals in the wake of a painful marriage and divorce. But my personal issues don't mean that I support inequality.
What is marriage anyway? Basically, it's forming a legally recognized partnership within a state. Kind of like a business. Would we ever legislate who should be allowed to go into business? No, we wouldn't. And the free market would revolt against the very notion of government dictating who can form a company.
I have heard many people say that allowing homosexuals to marry would make a mockery of marriage and that we must prevent them from marrying to protect the sanctity of marriage. I say that is complete and utter bullsh*t. If anyone has made a mockery of marriage, it's the heterosexuals who have had the right all along. Seriously. We can get what basically amounts to a drive-thru wedding ceremony and we can dissolve a marriage almost as quickly. Speaking of such things, does not divorce in general make a mockery of the very idea of marriage being sanctified?
Personally, I look at marriage itself as a religious rite. I really wish that the government wasn't involved in it at all. Unfortunately, our laws and tax code are set up to encourage certain things: homeownership, child rearing (no gay jokes, please), and marriage. With that in mind, why can't the government just issue civil union licenses to anyone over the age of majority? Gay, straight, polygamist (I don't have a problem with polygamy either), everyone. Let all of these persons enjoy the same rights and benefits. Would anyone have a legitimate objection to this? If there is one, I just don't see it.
If the government is issuing only civil union licenses, let marriage remain a religious rite that conveys no special societal or financial perks. Kind of like a christening or communion ceremony. The only people who would care to participate in such a ceremony are those who are active in a denomination or those who would like to join a congregation. This also preserves the rights of a clergy person to accept or deny a request to perform the ceremony.
Before anyone gets their panties twisted about a clergy person denying a request to perform a ceremony, understand that they can do it right now. Indeed, the person who conducted my second wedding ceremony didn't seem all that keen to marry us because we weren't active in a church, we'd both been married previously, and we were living together. He actually suggested that we might as well have a judge conduct our ceremony. Over time, we joined his congregation and won him over in our pre-marital counseling sessions. But he absolutely had the right to discriminate against us based on our history and what was then our present state.
Ultimately, if homosexuals are willing to make the same commitment that heterosexuals make, why shouldn't they be able to do so? They should. And, if they are willing to make the same commitment, why should they be refused the same rights and benefits? They shouldn't be denied.
I can't lie; I wouldn't exactly do cartwheels if my son ended up being a homosexual and I also wouldn't be thrilled if he blazed a path across the bedrooms of countless women. But I wouldn't want him to be punished for either and I'll still love my son no matter what.
Live and let live and let love live. Yesterday's decision wasn't a judgement against hate. It was a victory for love.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
I'm in a May-December Marriage?
I always envisioned a May-December marriage as one in which the man is significantly older than the woman - a 40-ish man and a 20-ish woman. He's a little pervy and she's a little greedy for cash. My husband is not pervy (well, not terribly so!) and I'm not greedy - and we aren't in our 40s or 20s any longer, but I've just realized that I'm in a May-December marriage.
My husband is nearly 19 years older than me. He graduated high school before I was born. He was already in college when I was born. He had just started dating his first wife when I was less than 2 months old. And, what can I say? I don't really care about the dates on our birth certificates because I love my husband with all my heart. He is my true love and I am so happy that we found each other. He dated plenty of women. Some were more attractive than me, some were more educated than me, some were more successful than me. Some days I can't believe that he picked me. I count myself as the most fortunate person on the planet because he chose me to be his wife.
We don't know any other couples who are in a May-December marriage. Our friends are 50-something aged people who are having grandchildren or 30-something aged people who are having children. Prior to the birth of our son, we had a lot of fun with our older friends who were similarly untethered by the demands of parenthood. Since the birth of our son, we spend a lot more time with our younger friends who also have little ones at home.
The age difference has, surprisingly, never really been a problem for us. I guess I'm much older than my years or he's much younger than his. Like most things, it's probably a little of both. The only time it may have been a little weird is when we went to our high school reunions: my 10th and his 30th. He was the oldest person at my reunion and I was the youngest at his.
We don't always get along perfectly, but who does? Two people from two different families get along perfectly 100% of the time only if one person is constantly capitulating. I'm glad that we can both be who we are while still feeling mutual love and respect for each other. I don't even think that our differences necessarily come from our age gap. I think Neil Simon is overrated; he thinks that opinion is nuts. I think space exploration is lame; he thinks space is neat. I think that the exterior of the new Camaro looks terrible; he thinks it looks pretty cool.
We share similar taste in music, movies, and television shows. We're both sci-fi nerds. We generally see eye-to-eye politically. We read several of the same magazines: National Review, Car & Driver, Playboy, Popular Science. And we have similar views on how to raise children.
So what's the problem if neither of us has a problem with the age difference? Society has a problem with our age difference. My husband's ex-wife had a problem with it when she heard he was dating me - surprise, surprise, right? Waitstaff have called me my husband's daughter many, many times. Strangers have asked my husband about his "grandson" on more than one occasion. Though my husband is not rich (whatever that means!), I've been called a gold-digger and worse in the anonymous world of internet message boards and chat rooms.
Why do people make assumptions? It is no longer socially acceptable to make assumptions about a couple based on race. Why is it acceptable to make assumptions based on age? And, perhaps most importantly, why is it called a May-December marriage and not something else? Seriously, that was the best description they, whoever they are, could come up with?
So I'm in a May-December marriage. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
My husband is nearly 19 years older than me. He graduated high school before I was born. He was already in college when I was born. He had just started dating his first wife when I was less than 2 months old. And, what can I say? I don't really care about the dates on our birth certificates because I love my husband with all my heart. He is my true love and I am so happy that we found each other. He dated plenty of women. Some were more attractive than me, some were more educated than me, some were more successful than me. Some days I can't believe that he picked me. I count myself as the most fortunate person on the planet because he chose me to be his wife.
We don't know any other couples who are in a May-December marriage. Our friends are 50-something aged people who are having grandchildren or 30-something aged people who are having children. Prior to the birth of our son, we had a lot of fun with our older friends who were similarly untethered by the demands of parenthood. Since the birth of our son, we spend a lot more time with our younger friends who also have little ones at home.
The age difference has, surprisingly, never really been a problem for us. I guess I'm much older than my years or he's much younger than his. Like most things, it's probably a little of both. The only time it may have been a little weird is when we went to our high school reunions: my 10th and his 30th. He was the oldest person at my reunion and I was the youngest at his.
We don't always get along perfectly, but who does? Two people from two different families get along perfectly 100% of the time only if one person is constantly capitulating. I'm glad that we can both be who we are while still feeling mutual love and respect for each other. I don't even think that our differences necessarily come from our age gap. I think Neil Simon is overrated; he thinks that opinion is nuts. I think space exploration is lame; he thinks space is neat. I think that the exterior of the new Camaro looks terrible; he thinks it looks pretty cool.
We share similar taste in music, movies, and television shows. We're both sci-fi nerds. We generally see eye-to-eye politically. We read several of the same magazines: National Review, Car & Driver, Playboy, Popular Science. And we have similar views on how to raise children.
So what's the problem if neither of us has a problem with the age difference? Society has a problem with our age difference. My husband's ex-wife had a problem with it when she heard he was dating me - surprise, surprise, right? Waitstaff have called me my husband's daughter many, many times. Strangers have asked my husband about his "grandson" on more than one occasion. Though my husband is not rich (whatever that means!), I've been called a gold-digger and worse in the anonymous world of internet message boards and chat rooms.
Why do people make assumptions? It is no longer socially acceptable to make assumptions about a couple based on race. Why is it acceptable to make assumptions based on age? And, perhaps most importantly, why is it called a May-December marriage and not something else? Seriously, that was the best description they, whoever they are, could come up with?
So I'm in a May-December marriage. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
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