Older male dating
After several dates over four months, I vowed never to see him again. The first was a wonderful Malaysian divorcé who visited London four times a year and wanted a travel companion.We became so close that after six months, our cash arrangement felt inappropriate and we stopped seeing each other. Then there was an unhappily married alcoholic banker from New York who, on orders of his therapist, had given up drink on home soil, but when abroad allowed himself the luxury of intravenous Martinis. For him, I was his drinking buddy in a feminine form, and that’s what he paid me for. I kept what I was doing from my family, and of the carefully selected friends I told, most didn’t approve.At first I was horrified, and deleted such messages which filled my inbox. But then I learnt that one of my dates – a handsome 45-year-old energy trader – paid all the other girls he went out with for the evening.The non-exclusivity didn’t bother me – but I felt a mug for providing for free what he would have been willing to pay for.Once I’d convinced myself of the moral justification – I know many will disagree with me – I started to entertain some of the propositions that landed in my inbox.Of course, the fat, balding ones still went into the delete bin, but many were perfectly dateable.
It was because of an innocent penchant for the older man.I was in my late twenties, a television producer, and fresh out of a suffocating three-year relationship with a man who drained both my time and my finances when I signed up. Instead, I fantasised about someone older, more sophisticated, more established.And, if I’m being honest, someone with some money, too.They kept trying to fix me up with people, thinking that would make me happy.They couldn’t understand that I liked being single and keeping low-maintenance lovers.