Overcoming Age Bias in Dating:
I’ve Been Baptized
Love remarkably erases lines
drawn by society – lines dictating age, background, or even past
relationships. I found this out
firsthand when I met a man who became the love of my life. He
was – wait for it – twenty years my senior. But those years didn’t exist for
me; I only saw him. Fresh from a problematic, two-year divorce, I was open to
whatever life threw my way.
“Does he look older than
me?” I asked my sister. My sister’s honesty was disarming. “Everyone sees it except you.”
me?” I asked my sister. My sister’s honesty was disarming. “Everyone sees it except you.”
“Well,” I
countered, “I don’t care what anyone thinks. He’s amazing, and we make
each other happy.” A flicker of doubt crept in, though. “Honestly,
that kiss in the grocery store produce section did draw some stares…”
“They probably thought
he was your dad!” Her words stung, but it was a sting tinged with humor.
David had his own story.
Married much longer than I’d been alive, his wife abruptly left him and their
nine children (one still a minor). “After all those years, she just said
she needed to ‘find herself.'” He
looked genuinely perplexed. Despite my shock, I knew I couldn’t judge her. We
all seek balance, sometimes along unconventional paths.
Our shared love for gardening
bloomed in the spring. Soon, we were building raised garden beds together—him,
me, and my two teenagers—it all just clicked. I felt at home like I’d always
belonged. Once a week, I’d leave my stressful office job, grab dinner for the
kids, and head to his place. Some nights, my teens tagged along; others, the
neighbor’s seventeen-year-old daughter would babysit. It was our happy routine.
Then, one late October
evening, a car door slammed and jolted me as I stretched out by the fireplace on
an oversized ottoman after a long day.
“Expecting
someone?” I asked.
“No one,” he said, his
frown creasing. Rising, he peered out the door.
“Oh my God. It’s
Silvia.”
Silvia.”
“After five years?”
“Looks like it.” He
looked like a deer in headlights.
“What are we going to
do?” His panic seemed to ignite some strange calm in me.
“I don’t know about you,
but I’m going to finish my massage.” I pointed towards the bedroom. He
followed, closing the door softly behind him.
“She can go upstairs. You can talk in the morning.”
but I’m going to finish my massage.” I pointed towards the bedroom. He
followed, closing the door softly behind him.
“She can go upstairs. You can talk in the morning.”
This couldn’t be real life,
could it?
And just then… THUMP!
THUMP! Silvia’s suitcases hit the living
room floor, and the sound vibrated throughout the house.
THUMP! Silvia’s suitcases hit the living
room floor, and the sound vibrated throughout the house.
David came into the bedroom
ten minutes later. “Turn over. Time for that oil.”
What an escape that message
was! Saturday morning arrived, coffee in
hand. “Silvia’s not up yet,” he said.
“Perfect. It gives me
time to finish this cup of heaven,” I said, toasting it toward him.
I
walked into that cathedral-like living room and saw her on the couch. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” I
began. “Let’s try to be friends, okay?”
Her silence was deafening.
Then, “What should I do?”
That’s when it hit me.
“Did you find yourself?”
A sheepish smile. “Turns
out the Rainbow People and the nudist colony… well, let’s just say they
helped me come to my senses.”
“No foul, no play,” I offered.
“After five years?”
I couldn’t hide my surprise, then softened my tone. “I get it. It’s none
of my business what you did.”
“I just don’t
know…”
“Well, I know. First,
reconnect with your kids and your grandkids. They’re a wonderful bunch, and I
love them.” A single tear trickled down her cheek. “It’s going to be
okay. Maybe not how you imagined, but okay. I wouldn’t have done anything
differently either.”
Talk about a strange 4th
of July! We planned how to mend our blended families together after the spouse returned.
We planned the food and the chaos of twenty-plus people swirling under one
roof. Silvia wasn’t a guest; she was right beside me, part of it all.
As it turned out, Silvia had
completed college during her absence, earning a Behavioral Health degree with a
degree in Counseling. We had much in common, and I was proud of her for living her
dream.
This situation may only be for some, but Silvia and I hosted family gatherings for several years. She and
David divorced. I remained friends with her children and grandchildren, and she
and my children and their children integrated into this nontraditional family.
Seven years from the time I
met David, he passed away. I was devastated but so very thankful for those
seven years. Silvia went on to remarry, an attorney this time. Her new man
married his therapist.
I was shopping in a
superstore and heard a voice from the next checkout lane yell, “Hey,
beautiful!”
It was Siliva with her new
husband. “Come meet Ed,” she invited, and “give me a big hug.”
To my surprise, Ed said, “I’m
happy to meet you. You’ve been a familiar subject with Silvia, and she speaks
so highly of you.”
I shook my head and smiled. She
and I had tracks too profound to ignore one another.
Life takes unexpected turns.
You can roll with the punches or spend your life fretting and making a big deal
out of a controllable situation, or you can work with what you have for the
betterment of all. I chose that high road. I have never looked back.
