I think it would be safe to say that I had a full and robust love life. In fact, when people ask me what my “type” is, I have a hard time answering.
You see, I went out with white collars, blue collars, tall dark and beautiful, blond, bearded. You name it, I did go on a date with her.
So when I heard the news this week, along with the rest of the world, that Kim Kardashian, 41, had split from Pete Davidson, 28, it got me thinking about gap relationships. age.
I once shared my experience with an older guy, but when I heard rumors that Kim broke up with Pete because of his immaturity, it reminded me of my own banter with a younger man.
I had just turned 30, and in the midst of heartache, I had decided to pack my bags and head up the coast for a fresh start and a new career in radio. Having never really ventured far from Sydney in my adult life, this impulsive decision suddenly hit me when I found myself alone in a new (much smaller) and rather friendless town.
I said yes to every after-work drink invitation I received, in an effort to make new friends. Romance was way off my radar due to a still rather broken heart, and luckily most of the guys I worked with at the time were gay.
That was, until the radio station threw a party for a visiting pop star, and we all went out for way too many drinks afterwards.
One of the promotion staff snuck up on me at the bar, his job was to hand out ice cold cans of Coke at listening events and do other odd jobs to help promote the station. radio to listeners. It’s an entry-level media job, and usually filled with college students, which it was.
After drinking a few brave beers, he bumped his hips with me and proclaimed, ‘you’re hot’.
I laughed and gave it to him once more. Sure, he was actually quite gorgeous, and if I was in college, I probably would have been gobsmacked about him, but seeing his big blue eyes and sweet face, I decided he was about eight or 10 years younger than me and that was way out of my age range.
I flirted with him for a little while, like I’m used to by nature, and then I avoided him for the rest of the night. What I didn’t expect to enjoy though was the feeling I got every time I looked up and he tried to glare at me.
For the next two weeks, whenever he was in the office, he made a habit of talking to me, or if we were on the air, he would walk past the window and wave cheekily at me. Ahh the confidence of a young man learning to flirt. It started to get fun and I found myself looking forward to his next attempt at a joke.
So next time we went for a drink after work I decided why not just give it a try. What’s wrong with having a fun night out with a cute guy. He came back to mine and as we kissed in my living room, I felt like a twenty year old again. His body was strong, he had the libido of an energizing bunny, and the way he looked at me made me feel special.
What I didn’t expect was to stay up all night laughing with him, then all the next day in bed. I’ve never been a fan of waiting for tomorrow. No breakfast for me thanks, it’s time to go home!
So the fact that I enjoyed his company and his new outlook on life so much really took me by surprise. For the next two weeks, I just leaned into the sentiment. We went on dates, he stayed a lot and we became quite close.
However, after the honeymoon glow started to fade, I started noticing things related to our age gap that were just too hard to ignore.
His clothes sometimes smelled a bit musty because, like most guys in their twenties, he used to let them dry in the washing machine rather than hang them up. He also got mad at me for always staying at my house, instead of his shared house with a bunch of his roommates. Oh no, I just couldn’t bear the thought of sitting at the breakfast table with a group of 20-somethings on a Saturday morning.
The final blow was when a group of friends from Sydney came to spend the weekend. He went out with us for dinner, and while we drank wine, caught up on career changes and shared ambitions. I looked across the table at her poor panicked face and realized we were at completely different stages of our lives.
As I insisted that he meet his friends at the local nightclub after our dinner, I gently explained to him that we were at very different stages of our lives and that he should feel free to flirt with other women and to remain great friends.
As it happens when you accidentally date a 20 year old, he didn’t take it well and the next two weeks were tough! That’s when I decided to check “dating a younger guy” off my list and stick to my age or above. Much less dramatic, but for a while it kind of tickled my imagination.