Day 5: Ah, Dating Twenty-Somethings...Wait, I'm Twenty-Something

The gang's big complaint is that the twenty-something man dating an older woman either thinks she's exotic, his mother, or just another good $%^&. Or there is the odd young chap like Skipper who just follows Miranda around like a lost puppy.

I think this is a bit of a stretch (as if SATC is supposed to be highly factual). Granted, I have usually dated older men. Actually I have ONLY dated older men. My first boyfriend in high school was a junior when I was a freshman. The year span seemed to increase as I got older. For a brief time at 21, I dated a 38-year-old with a 6-year-old girl. Once I realized that I was closer in age to her, it made things awkward. But all through my 20s, thirty-somethings have been my men of choice. I always scoffed at girls who dated younger guys, thinking they must be in it just for the sex. Inevitably, I thought, the guy would need to go off and get his testosterone fix by sleeping with another girl or slapping some guy's butt at a kegger.

Then Hank came along. When our mutual friend, Alan, told me about Hank, he mentioned a few facts. First, Hank was prematurely balding. Second, he was 24. I didn't care about the receding hairline, but having just turned 27 myself, the age thing freaked me out.

I mean, obviously it wouldn't work out, right? How could a 24-year-old feel serious about anything? I conveniently had forgotten my engagement at 21. Or maybe I hadn't. That had ended when I canceled the wedding two weeks before the big day. After that, my early twenties were a whirlwind of bad relationship decisions--mostly made because I wasn't mature enough to know myself and what I wanted and needed. Maybe that was what bothered me. When I was 24, I was a mess. So how could someone else be completely settled? Heck, I didn't even think I was mature at 27.

But I met Hank anyway, despite my foreboding, and have been amazed ever since. Maybe it's that Hank's mother is a few years older than his father--actually 3 years and a couple of months to be exact, the same as Hank and I--so he's used to the age difference. Or maybe it's that his family members have gotten married young (most before age 24), so that's just the time he thinks is right for settling down. But Hank says he knew he wanted to marry me the night we met, and I don't think it wasn't because he was a lost puppy. He had been alone for over a year before we met and had had plenty of time to get to know himself. No, it was because he's Hank.

Dating a younger guy does have its less amazing sides. Sure, he really doesn't know how to do laundry correctly (I'm sorry, hon, but it's true). He just throws it all together, which would be a travesty for my white capris (that is, if I let him touch them, which I don't). One of our first formal dates consisted of playing beer pong with his buddies. The fact that I played--and liked it--seemed like a sign from God that we were meant for each other. When he makes dinner, it's soup from a can. He claims it's because that's all he has time for. Otherwise he would make steak every night. No salad. Just steak.

But when it comes to real measures of maturity, Hank's way ahead of his older counterparts (and I know) and surely ahead of me. He'll say wise things like, "You'll find the job that's right for you." He's better at disciplining our dog than I'll ever be, and he already has an booming retirement account (I wouldn't even know where to start). Most importantly, he knows what he wants out of life. When I said I couldn't wait to have kids one day, he didn't say something like, "Yeah, I guess in like ten years" or (worse) "Yeah, I'd be ready for another one soon." Instead, he said he'd been waiting to have a baby since he was ten and only wanted to be married first. He was actually behind schedule, since he wanted one at 20. But, of course, he said, it would happen at the right time.

He's like a 24-year-old Confucius, and I'm the lost puppy.

Sometimes I remind him of our age difference just to get him going, you know play the age card. But he always trips me up. When he talks about dorm-room memories like they were yesterday (they were), I'll say, "You're so young." And he'll say, "So are you." He's right. But I have a feeling even if I was 40, he'd still say it, and I'd still feel like it was true.

Maybe most twenty-something guys don't have years of past relationship muck, a steady career, or amazing cooking skills. Maybe some of them really only want to have fun and play the field. But if you find that rare man who loves you and who you love, regardless of age, never let him go. Even if you have to do the laundry.