I married a man 19 years younger…here’s what I’ve learned
It is never easy. Love, commitment, relationships, none of it is easy. I was clinging to marriage number two, an easy, if passionless, pairing with a man almost a decade older. Great guy, good worker, steadfast stepdad, but not “the one” and after almost ten years together, I’d given up forcing it.
I met my first much younger suitor long after I was ready for my marriage to end, but far before I was prepared for a new one. Alas, fate had other ideas. The chemistry was undeniable, the sex the best I’d ever had (and that includes rock stars), but his much lower maturity level and experience with relationships left much to be admired. Inside the bedroom: fire. Outside the bedroom: eh.
We disagreed about everything – from what to watch on tv or movie to catch, to what we wanted for dinner. He was a neat freak, I was more of the “lived in” look variety. I always dressed to impress, he was more likely to wear sneakers and tshirts than not. He had never had a relationship over four months, I was in my second decade long marriage and had a boyfriend since I was about two years old.
It seemed like the perfect premise for a top ten rom-com, but it wasn’t a rom-com, it was my life.
He lived with is mother in a two bedroom apartment (she needed his help with bills), I lived in a crumbling four bedroom home with two challenging teens (one with autism) and a man I generally saw every other day.
It wasn’t that I was miserable, mind you. It was that I was horribly, ceaselessly, undeniably bored. As it often does, boredom cultivated curiosity and curiosity led to exploration.
I wasn’t looking for another child (my two were almost grown), a protector (one thing my second was great at) or a boy toy. To be honest, I had no idea what I WAS seeking, but seeking I was. I wasn’t an adulterer on the prowl, God knows. My first had cheated on me more than once and I knew how powerless, depressed and completely useless being on the other end of that could make one feel. The second didn’t deserve that anymore than I had.
Yet, there he was, a friend of a friend and relentless in his pursuit. He was brash, kind of aggressive, shy but willing to answer any question I threw his way and willing to wait. That was a huge factor for me – the ability to pine and remain at the ready until I was, in fact, brave enough.
