My friends will testify to the fact that I am (was) a firm believer of how whomever I dated MUST be at least 8 years older than me…I preached same to whoever cared to listen.
In fact it was so bad that no matter how handsome the bobo was, immediately I knew the age and he didn’t fall in the bracket I erased the possibility of a relationship.
I think I grew up too fast for my age, guys my age were too young for me- I always felt we were intellectually Incompatible.
The ones a little older were not just it. Bottom line if he wasn’t 8-10 years older “kole work“. The older guys just got me. They were more mature (or seemed so), more experienced, caring (obviously because they saw me as their younger sister abi na kid sister), not to forget they’re big spenders. Most are ready made anyways. I guess the traits are only natural, they’ve been in the business for a while.
Experience they say is the best teacher. Experience woke me up from my fantasy and brought to limelight reality. I was only interested in the picture I had envisaged neglecting to avert my mind to the negatives.
So at some point in the university I was finally in a relationship (or so i thought at that time) with this guy ( abeg is it disrespectful to refer to him as a guy abi shey it’s guy-man I’ll say, all join…lol). I didn’t enjoy all the ‘benefits’ that came with dating an older guy but the mere fact he was older was enough for me. I started noticing however, that some where down the line I began to lose my identity.
I am a born talkative and my mouth is very sharp but when it came to talking to him I was very ‘humble’, I selected my words carefully for fear that I was going to mis yarn and couldn’t imagine the repercussion.
Not that he ever hit me nor was he ever violent to me, it was something deeper I really couldn’t explain. There was just this constraint I felt anytime it came to him. Every decision I made was influenced by what he would think of me or what he would say.
I was being careful not to be tagged as “childish” by him. I felt I had to always prove to him that the age difference didn’t matter. When I was hurting because of the nonchalant behaviour displayed by him I tried conveying my feelings as subtle as possible so I won’t appear rude. At the end of the day nothing was being be conveyed.
The most painful part was when I got introduced to a few of his friends and their babes- whom obviously where all either married or working or had reached a mile stone in their careers- I consciously had it at the back of my mind that I was the youngest and couldn’t form an opinion when they were speaking. I always tried to avoid questions like “where are you working?” or “what do you do for a living?”
To be honest I missed out on the part in a relationship where the two parties got to be childish, throw caution to the wind, I missed out on just being me without being mindful of what anybody would say. The day I made up my mind to end things I was sure I had made the best decision ever.
But I left with the question, did the age really make a difference?
*kole work- it can’t work