Dear Dr Romance,
I read your article on “Age Differences in Dating” and thought you might be interested in a case. I was married to a younger man for twenty years, he was 21 and I was 40 when we met.
He had been in a very unhappy marriage for twenty years and had three children. She had no intention of remarrying me. When I met this handsome young man who openly pursued me, I was flattered. Dating turned into a physical relationship. He was the exact opposite of my ex-husband and I was amazed that we could talk for hours without getting bored, we were interested in the same things, we liked the same music, books, etc. There wasn’t even an obvious difference in our physical appearance, as I looked ten years younger and he looked much older, graying prematurely.
However, when he asked me to marry him, I insisted that we should live together because I couldn’t imagine this going on forever. He was relentless and he enlisted the help of my teenage sons to convince me to get married. I have to admit that the first few years I was secretly waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was serious and conservative, I was fun and free-spirited. He once told a friend of ours that I was the funniest, most exciting woman he had ever met. he had met and never knew what to expect from me next. To me he was a rock of reliability and security and the most caring, gentle and loving man I had ever met. the other.
We worked together to build a life and I helped him climb the corporate ladder to become Vice President. It was the first time in my life that I didn’t have to work. She was delighted to finally be just a housewife. We travel everywhere. Australia, Hong Kong, London, Paris… places I never dreamed I’d see. On our 13th wedding anniversary, we vacationed in Hawaii and everyone thought we were newlyweds. We never had a serious disagreement, we did everything together and I felt safe because he took such good care of me. I finally felt sure that the other shoe would never fall off. I trusted and believed in him… in us.
Then one day, shortly before our twentieth anniversary, he came into the house and said that he was in love with someone else and wanted to get a divorce. He moved in with her that night. He had been having an affair with her for two months. I later found out that she worked for him. He was devastated, of course, he had no idea that he was not happy in our marriage. I lived with him for 20 years and was suddenly confronted by a total stranger who told me that our age difference was more than he could handle. His friends and co-workers did not approve. After all, my oldest son was only three years younger than him. A fact that had not changed in 20 years.
He was 62 years old, had not worked for twelve years and had no means of subsistence. It took me years of counseling to regain my self-respect and self-image. Now I am 75 years old and I have rebuilt my life with a new environment and new friends. I remain injured in excellent health and lead a very active life. But there is rarely a day that I don’t think of him. I was naive to believe that age doesn’t matter. There is a double standard about age, and I don’t think that will ever change. However, I would not change those 20 years and I will continue to keep those wonderful memories of our time. together for the rest of my life.
Dear reader:
I’m sorry you were so disappointed. The same thing could have happened if you had married a man your own age. I am proud of you for rebuilding your life, and for not getting bitter, but enjoying your memories. None of us can predict what the future will bring.