Sunday, August 30, 2009

Should Love Have an Age?

This has been a topic much discussed of late, at least in my various circles, and I find it quite interesting. I'll admit part of my interest comes from the fact that I'll be leading a small group for my church next month on the topic of relationships. And yes, there is an age range for the group, 26-99.

Society has always supported the notion that a man is supposed to be older than the woman in a relationship. And, has accepted, although with whispers, when a man dates a much younger woman. Neither of these are new to us.

In more conservative areas of the world, and of the US, this remains the typical viewpoint. I'm surprised to find so many here in New York City, New...York...City, still hold to that traditional view. Looking across cultures, here's what I've found, to-date: the British tend to hold to having the man be older (although most Brits I've seen tend to stick very close to their own age); Western Europeans are more concerned with who you are and whether there's chemistry (age and profession may never arise in conversation); and, in South America age doesn't seem to be as relevant (although my exposure across those countries is limited).

Personally, I applaud the Europeans. I admit that I'm guilty of it myself, but I think the notion of our profession and our age defining us is ludicrous. Think about it, here in the US the first question asked whenever you meet someone new is "What do you do?" Seriously? Truly? Is this how we want to be defined? Is this how we want to see others? I would much rather learn what someone is passionate about and their views on life.

Back to love and age ...
The other night, I was chatting with a woman who is 29 and was on a date with someone when she learned of his age, 23. Immediately she put him in the 'no' category. I believe her age range is 27-40. Another woman with us that same evening is 23 and saw no issue with the former woman dating the 23 year old.

Back home, in Cincinnati, I have a very intelligent and politically-savvy friend who refused to even consider accepting a date with a man who was younger, even by only 2 years. We all thought she was crazy because, as (almost) everyone knows, 2 years falls into the 'same age' category. She's now happily married to a man 10 years her junior. She was 40 when she married.

Another friend of mine is 66 and he has been married for 15 years to someone 20 years younger. They love each other very much and have a great life together.

And, an acquaintance of mine is a lovely 37 year old woman who is smart, successful, full of life, and about to marry a man who is 27 years old and without a job. Could you do this? Could I?

Cougars and what used to be referred to as 'Dirty Old Men'...
I hate this new term, Cougar. We don't have a cultural term for older men who date much younger women. Why is it any different for an older woman to date a younger man?

My despise of the term has nothing to do with my gender nor my age. Rather, it has everything to do with putting a negative label on something that should not even be a topic of discussion for acceptance or unacceptance. I despise the term because it perpetuates an unhealthy stereotype.

We each decide what is best for us and with what we are the most comfortable. We are all formed by our familial environment, life experiences, and greatly by our cultural environment. But why are we still judgmental and unaccepting of something different from society's norm?

Keeping it real by getting personal ...
I have always been attracted to older men...even as a young girl. In fact, I'm probably the one woman who never thought George Clooney was attractive in the slightest. He was too cutsey. But now that he has begun to age, omg, he is very handsome! (And yes, Jerry, the man I was married to, is an older man.)

All of that said, I don't believe age matters. I'm a firm believer that life-stage is what's important.

I've dated men as much as 16 years older than me. And I've dated men as young as 13 years younger. If you want to look at age, that range is rather large. Jim, who is 16 years older, is very young-at-heart without sacrificing emotional maturity. Cesar, who is 13 years younger, is very mature. In fact, initially I thought he was only 7 years younger. And yes, I did fall in love with Cesar. Surprisingly, my Midwestern, conversative parents liked him and told me they were supportive if I decided to marry him. What I decided was that I didn't want to hold him back from having the 'normal' life experiences of his age group, so I walked away. Friends accused me of making his decision for him. I didn't see it that way...then. A year later, he invited me to his wedding. He married an older woman.

Changing the conversation...
In order to initiate and cause change, we must first change the conversation. Peter Block has an excellent book about change: The Answer to How Is Yes: Acting on What Matters. Granted, it is directed at changing corporate and cultural landscapes, but his principles apply here. After all, love and age are part of our cultural landscape.

Here are a few questions we may want to ask ourselves, and each other, to start changing the conversation:
  • Is there a 'right and wrong' when it comes to love and age?
  • Should I assign or use terms, and do they perpetuate stereotypes?
  • If I wanted to, could I actually go against our societal norms?

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Wandering Stone Street ...

Stone Street, in the Financial District of Manhattan. I have always wanted to go and get lost in the ambiance that so many photos have captured. But, in my living of the every day, it somehow always seemed to be forgotten.

My friend Typhani recently began tending bar at the Stone Street Tavern. Tanvir, Amanda, and I decided to head down there last night to support her. Having been a while since I last heard about that area of the city, I didn't make the connection until I googled the tavern for its address. Stone Street!!

As I had a massage earlier, it took a while for me to convince myself to get in the shower and wash off the relaxing scent of bergamot. Which is my justification for why I ended up taking a cab downtown. And like all good NYC cabbies, mine couldn't figure out where to go once in the Financial District. I shared that it's the street that is full of tables with umbrellas, I was climbing out of the cab in minutes.

As I rounded the corner, I was immediately transported back to Italy. Ah, my Italia!On this short block of narrow street, each doorway led to a new pub. Take your pick. They are lined up one after the other. The tables filling the streetway are packed with Wall Streeters, young girls admiringly chatting with male financiers, and friends meeting up. Everyone appears to have let go of the business day and are fully in the moment, enjoying life. Looking at their faces you can see sincere smiles and intense listening. Everyone has a brew in hand. Burgers and pasta and salads are the waiters' trays. Despite what might be happening in their daily lives, right now, life is good.

Isn't it amazing? A memory can be triggered so quickly and instantaneously you
are where the memory was born. Movements slowed. Every one of my senses came to full bloom. I could hear only the accents of the Italians sitting at random tables along Stone Street. I could smell
Sorrento's southern, coastal air with the flavours of fresh Italian cooking from the restaurants as I walked along Via Santa Maria delle Grazie. Colours, people, smiles, waiters carrying drinks ... all continued to carry me. The freedom and joy I felt was the most pure joy I've ever experienced.

This.
This moment.
This is when I experienced my understanding of what life is truly about.

The moment when I began to live my life.

My foot lifted and as it slowly came down to rest on the threshold of the bar, life moved quickly again as I returned to Stone Street.

RECOMMENDATION: Stone Street Tavern www.stonestreettavernnyc.com