This article originally appeared on Medium.
My friend texts me. It's been more than 20 years since we've seen one another. She's in town and wants to know if I can meet her. I immediately call an Uber.
I can't wait to see her.
She's at the Irish pub in my hometown. The same place where I've just run into my ex-husband. The place I've avoided for years, I am now walking into yet again.
She's sitting at the bar.
She's makeup free with the same effortless glamour. Her long blonde hair cascades over the side of her face. A sweet brindle Frenchie named Jimmy sits on her lap.
She's as casually laid back as I remember.
Not to mention, beautiful and hysterically funny.
She chats with the man to her right. He's a guy that I know, and who knows my ex-husband. A handsome man in a blue blazer stands to her left. We hug one another and she makes an introduction.
"This is my boyfriend," she says.
"It's nice to meet you," I say.
He moves around us to talk to the other man.
"He's younger than me," she whispers. "Sixteen years."
Watch: The age-gap romance is big in Hollywood — check out the trailer for A Family Affair. Post continues below.
Of course, I've already realised he's younger. I'm not surprised because my friend defies age in every way imaginable. Growing older isn't strictly about looks.
It's about energy and an enthusiasm for life.
Hers has always been contagious.
It keeps her youthful.
It's hard not to talk about age. Our children were babies when we met in our Baltimore play group. They are now young adults. A lot has transpired between then and now.
She got divorced years ago, and moved to the Upper East Side.
I left Baltimore to return to my hometown outside of Washington, D.C.
"You look the same," I say.
"Oh," she says. "I hate it. Ageing is such a weird thing. It's like I've lost my superpower. I can no longer say, 'Here I am, look at me.' I'm no longer that girl."
Her words make me laugh.
She's not wrong.
Youth is kind of a superpower.
"I'm pretty sure that hunk of handsome next to you," I say. "Would disagree."
We both laugh.
"How long have you been dating him?" I ask.
"Almost 10 years," she says. "He treats me incredibly well. He's smart, kind and he's thoughtful. He knows everything about me. He knows what my favourite colour is, and all of those little things."
Okay, now I'm impressed.
I witness their mutual respect.
I see the way they look at each other. A 16-year age gap has withstood the test of time. They treat one another well. I understand why he's drawn to her, and why she's drawn to him.
My friend's not the only one who wants her superpower back.
I'd like to redeem mine.
Age wasn't always my Kryptonite.
But dating a man who is 11 years younger than me made it feel like it was. To be fair, he has a birthday coming up. He will soon be 10 years younger than me.
I'm inclined to round down, not up.
It's no longer a decade plus a year, it's only a decade.
Can you blame me?
I was initially shocked to find out our age difference. I thought he was a few years older. He thought I was a few years younger. It seemed wrong. Not for me. Yay for me! But it didn't seem fair to him.
He deserved a younger woman.
Or so I thought.
But since my guy moved, I've discovered it's no longer uncommon. More women are dating younger men. It shouldn't be scandalous, although it still does feel that way.
Men have been doing it for years.
It's women's turn.
The day my guy moved, I was at a bar celebrating my friend's birthday.
A handsome guy was sitting next to me.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Oh," I said. "I was seeing someone who was transferred."
"How did you meet him?" he asked.
"At my pool," I said. "He offered me a Bud Light."
"That's it," he said with a laugh. "A Bud Light? Not a Heineken or a Stella? Just a Bud Light? I'll buy you a Bud Light."
"It's okay," I said. "It was never realistic. He's 11 years younger than me."
"I'm 10 years younger than my wife," he said.
His comment surprised me.
At least, then I was still surprised.
But it's not the only time that I've heard this lately.
I've heard it numerous times. Since my guy left, sometimes I feel like the Universe is shouting at me, "Don't forget him." When I'm trying really hard to do just that.
I was in an Uber recently.
A cute young guy in his thirties was behind the wheel.
"What brought you to this country?" I asked.
"My wife," he said. "I met her when I was teaching her to ski."
He explained why she was living in his country, and the work that she did. It was a prominent position. Ultimately, they decided to move and he'd been here for 10 years.
"Wow," I said. "You've been here for 10 years? Your wife was extremely young to have that kind of a job."
"Oh," he said. "She's 10 years older than me."
The Universe didn't stop there.
It kept talking.
It either wants me to date younger, or not give up on my guy.
My friend and I were out and met the cutest couple. We asked how they met. The guy told us he met his girlfriend while he was vacationing in Florida. He lives here, and they commute back and forth.
"He's 10 years younger," she said.
"Really?" I said. "You would never know. You don't look that far apart in age."
"I don't care," he said. "She's beautiful and I'm crazy about her."
And just the other night, the Universe spoke again.
I ran into a couple I've met once before.
The woman's mother was with them.
"Do you know how old I am?" said her mum. "I'm 80 years old."
"You are not," I gasped.
I'm not exaggerating. This woman didn't look a few years younger than her age. She looked nearly 20 years younger. I don't even know how it was possible.
But her enthusiasm, joy and energy matched her appearance.
She was ageless and happy.
"You're lucky," I said to her daughter. "You've got some great genes. You don't have to worry about ageing."
She points to her boyfriend who's sitting across the table.
"He's 15 years younger than me," she said.
"He is?" I said. "I wouldn't have guessed that."
"Yes," she said. "We've been together for 15 years."
And there you have it.
Just a few of the couples I've encountered in the past few months. The people the Universe has thrown into my path. Either to urge me to date younger, or not give up hope that I may see my guy again.
At the very least, to remind me.
Age isn't Kryptonite.
We don't have to surrender our superpower.
For more from Colleen Sheehy Orme, click here.
Feature Image: Getty.
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