Age Difference

Now that I’m considering dating again I’m stuck in the strange world that all children of older parents are in. What age range am I looking at? 

I was “allowed” to date at 14. By 16 I knew anyone I wanted to date or could hold a conversation with would go to jail if we dated, so I put my love life on hold until I was 18. It was then I discovered unless the guy 10 years my senior had age appropriate parents who spent time with him, well, we had little in common. So eventually I’m 23 they’re in their 40’s and it’s still a struggle to find common ground because they think their 20. 

I’m divorced now and all I really know is no matter how reprehensible my parents can be, at 73 and almost 69, they are the best conversationalist (when they choose to be) I’ve ever met. They are well versed with what’s going on in the world, what has gone on in the past, and rather up on pop culture. 

All of these things I would want in a partner because honestly, if you can’t just have fun talking about nothing, then everything else is pointless. 

Let’s get very real here. Sex is awesome or sometimes fine but why bother building a relationship on it when you know that it’s also boring, ill timed, flawed in 100 ways by human error or outside sources? While efficient for procreation, the occasional caloric burn, or relaxant, it’s not what really makes a relationship. This is where being able to connect mentally and emotionally comes in.

My problem is that it’s nearly impossible to connect mentally to someone who can’t fathom that my grandpa was born in 1902, that I both met and remember him, and when I use a tiny word like “demise” I am not using big word. 

Is this a geographical problem? Is this an age gap issue? Should I now consider dating men that are 60-90ish? If it’s location, how do big girls fair in other parts of the country? I’m right in the middle of this one and finding second date material is harder than panning for gold.

Any advice for a woman ready to give it another try? I still think dating sucks.

Health and Hell; A mother’s hatred.

As I watch my Dr’s fight amongst themselves whether or not it’s time to test me for cancer, in more physical pain than I ever thought I could endure, my home life has tanked to a low I didn’t think it would reach.

My mother lied to the family about why we went broke. I knew she pinned it on me, I did not know it was to the tune of $3,000 a month, every month, for the period of at least 6 years. During that time she gambled it all away with her “friend” Jane.

Her lies have cost me every family member I have and left me completely alone in the world. Now in a rare moment of honesty, she won’t retract her lies but couldn’t wait to express how much she honestly hopes and prays that I have terminal cancer or would get up the nerve to kill myself. She said the only reason she didn’t have an abortion was because her parents were still alive and she would pray for them to die so she could “drown me in the tub” or find some means to get rid of me.

I’m sure some people that know my family will read this. I hope you do. I honestly can’t care what any of you think about me anymore. I do however pity you that you can’t think for yourselves and would take her word as gospel based on what, exactly? That my mom confuses classically styled fashion in dark colors to be “goth” which you believe is evil? Is it that I’m disabled and therefore poor, which many of you find sinful? Is it the times when I was a child and I dared to talk back to either of them? Well I don’t care how much reverence you claim to have for your own parents. You didn’t live with mine.

I spent a lot of time trying to be placed into a foster home. Welcome to the 80’s! When parents could talk their way out of anything. 

To all of my family that told me I’m not right with God, should be “put down like a mad dog.” or believed her to my downfall without an ounce of compassion on the horizon, I hope you can accept the eternal consequences of your own judgment. 

Should the news of my health be as most of the Dr’s expect, at 36 years old I am opting to NOT have treatment. I’m all alone as it stands, and I wouldn’t want to continue to be a disappointment.