Start Dating a guy 14 years older than me

Dating a guy 14 years older than me

As someone who’s been single for a REALLY long time (six years), I was at the place in my life where I accepted that “It” might never happen for me, “It” being falling in love again, partnership, or even the big “M” word (I won’t even touch on the topic of children because that’s a rabbit hole I don’t want to go down).

We’d pulled out all the stops to impress one of his oldest friends, spending a small fortune on steak, prawns and foie gras.

Just six months earlier we’d left behind our life in Bovey Tracey, Devon, and bought a beautiful property in Charente, South-West France.

If not, that’s totally ok.”That aside, I was holding a torch all those years for my ex. We had a connection and bond so deep that I thought that was my last and only chance at a partnership.

During these last six years, I tried to date and I did, albeit unsuccessfully.

All kidding aside, there are some wonderful things about being married to a man who is more than a couple years older than you (let’s not forget that there is an assumption being made that along with age, a certain level of maturity has been reached!

) and while this post is written with a bit of laughter, there are a few things you should remember.

He regularly referred to sex as “getting busy,” or “knocking boots,” which is a lot more of a turn-off when such phrases are used on the first date, believe me.

The idiosyncrasy that would finally drive me crazy was his habit of shouting “boo-yeah!

At the insistence of my husband — who is called Carol, named by his Europhile parents after King Carol of Romania — it had to be the largest in the village, and the garden grandly led down to the banks of the river.

He revelled in the praise his friends piled on him for enjoying the perfect lifestyle — a stunning house and, of course, the icing on the cake, a nubile young wife. I watched with morbid fascination as my husband — sporting a pair of comfortable loose-fitting trousers, calf-length brown socks and his favourite Velcro-strapped sandals — strutted about our terrace like a bantam cockerel.

We hadn’t had sex for over a decade, and it was highly unlikely we’d ever make love again.


 
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18-Dec-2019 11:37