The first questions I’m asked when out with my older girlfriend are usually, ‘Where did you two meet?’ followed by ‘…and what’s the age gap?’
Of course, what they really want to know, but are too coy to ask, is what we get up to in bed – that’s at the root of their interest.
The rudeness of other people used to surprise me. Outside of the usual nosiness we all have about other people’s relationships, I had never before experienced such a lack of tact.
At the start I was so taken aback, I’d answer them by saying, ‘We met at work, but she wasn’t my boss’, and ‘It’s a ten-year age gap’. Now I’m more likely to smile, ignore them and shift the conversation on, while thinking to myself, ‘None of your business, friend’.
I haven’t yet given in to the urge to poke the questioner in the eye, but I’ve come close. For the record, my partner, Karen, is 55 and I am 45.
It’s a much smaller gap than that between 55-year-old Bridget Jones and her 29-year-old love interest Roxster, played by fresh-faced Leo Woodall in the new film, Mad About The Boy, out this week.
Yet I am viewed in just the same way as Roxster. I’m a ‘toyboy’, a playmate, a younger man who is either ‘into’ older women for kinky reasons or enjoys being looked after and paid for by his ‘sugar mummy’.
Stupid cliches, every one. Bridget’s latest adventures will mostly attract a female audience but when it comes to my non-movie relationship, it’s men who are fixated with our age gap.
Evan and Karen… he is only ten years younger, but is still viewed as a ‘toyboy’
I suspect the same guys who have a problem with us are the ones who criticised Demi Moore when she was with Ashton Kutcher (15 years her junior) yet championed Hugh Hefner’s obsession with women young enough to be his granddaughters. I reckon it reveals a deeper issue within the male psyche.
A woman who knows what she wants and has found a man to give it to her? For some reason that bothers a lot of men. Women, on the other hand, seem to get it. If they do joke with my partner about me, they do it with a sense of admiration that we are able to carry on and rise above the criticism and snide remarks.
So, what is it really like being the younger man in a relationship that provokes such interest? All things considered, I love it.
I’m certainly not in it for any material gain – not money, property or career advancement. Like any successful relationship, the chemistry works and the sex is great. But much more important is the way we can be both a couple and individuals.
The house we live in together in Cheltenham, is mine – and that surprises anyone who doesn’t know us. We have our own studies to retreat to (this is one reason we get along: we’re not rammed into a tiny London flat) and our own sets of friends who know us in our own right.
As I’m in the film industry, I often work 12 or 14-hour days and I’m away a great deal, which would upset a conventional relationship. But since neither of us have ever wanted to ‘settle down’ in the traditional sense, this doesn’t matter.
We aren’t jealous, needy or demanding of attention. There has never been any yelling or crockery throwing because neither of us wants to control the other.
As far as children go, my partner tried to have a child in a previous relationship, but it didn’t work out. I used to be a teacher, and the last thing I want is kids. So neither of us brought a loudly ticking biological clock into the relationship, something that, I think, liberated our sex life. If we’re nesting, it’s only to provide a proper home to a German Shepherd rescue dog or two.
Bridget and Roxster (Renee Zellwegger and Leo Woodall) in Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy
As we are both independent people, there is a real sense of freedom in our relationship. And when we do things together, we’re good at compromising so that both of us are happy.
Are we committed? Completely. As she puts it, it’s so important to be friends before you become lovers. And we have definitely been that.
Yes, we come up against the odd generational culture clash. Our taste in music and movies are different. She loves weird old stuff such as Can or Captain Beefheart or 1980s pop such as George Michael. I like anything guitar-led and I’m a big fan of Hans Zimmer. We both love cinema, but she tends to go for cult films and classics and I love action movies.
She has some strongly held opinions which she’s not afraid to voice. I like that but, sometimes, think she overdoes the assertiveness. For example, when drivers don’t stop at zebra crossings, she almost throws herself on the bonnet. She is extremely capable of shouting, but never at me.
We met five years ago at a media company where I was already working. It was an awful place: long hours in a stuffy old office with no air-conditioning, all while answering to a toxic boss. I couldn’t wait to leave. Then, one evening, just as I was about to go home, someone walked past my desk and knocked into it. Mildly irritated at the interruption, I looked up to see an older woman who had come in for a job interview.
There was definitely a physical attraction: she obviously looked after herself and I thought she was probably early to mid-40s, though she was actually 50. Medium, blonde hair in a bob, not too tall, but fit-looking, as if she did some kind of sport. A real sparkle in her eye.
True to form, my nightmare boss interviewed her there and then in the open-plan office. Embarrassed, we all listened – and immediately I was intrigued by the way the woman batted back every awkward question in great style. ‘She’s good,’ I thought.
Then, at the end of interview, she made a beeline for my desk.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Hi. Sorry, I’m busy,’ I replied. ‘I can see that,’ she whispered, ‘but you look like the only normal one here.’
Ms Zellwegger and Woodall at the London premiere of the film last month
I did want to talk to her, but I didn’t want to talk to her there, in front of the whole room. I liked what I saw, and it was clear she liked what she saw, too, but it wasn’t anyone else’s business.
She got the job and a week later my new colleague arrived full of verve and vigour. Immediately, and despite the boss’s flimsy protest, she came to sit at the desk next to me.
Over the next two months, polite chat developed into conspiratorial moaning about the job and a reciprocal coffee-fetching habit.
As time went on, we’d pass chewing gum or marshmallows between our desks like naughty schoolchildren, but nothing at all happened to suggest we had anything other than a professional relationship.
Along with the rest of the department, we did have the occasional after-work drink. She asked me along to the cinema one evening, too. That caused a senior colleague to ask if we were conducting a secret office romance. He wasn’t the only gossipy one to think that, but we weren’t – at least not then.
She made the first move. One day she told me she was quitting and had already handed in her notice – and then she grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. It seemed a little more than a friendly touch and, after that, things moved up a gear swiftly.
I think we talked about the age gap once. The discussion went something like this.
Her: ‘I’m older than you are. Are you OK with that?’ Me: ‘Yes.’
Early on, we both had to run the gauntlet of each other’s friends. Hers can be Rottweilers. At the start they were protective of her and suspicious of me. They thought I was a flash in the pan.
The names of former partners, all older than me, would crop up in their conversation solely to test me. But I didn’t show the immaturity and jealousy they expected. No man wants to be compared with an ex, but I wasn’t going to let them control my feelings.
I am sure some are still waiting to see us break up so they can say with glee, ‘I told you so’. They shouldn’t hold their breath. I’m going nowhere.
My friends’ reactions to my new relationship, on the other hand, were completely predictable. There was naturally a little caution, but also a lot of (good-natured) laughter and curiosity.
Because she’d had a career in the media – on TV and radio, and as a writer in newspapers and magazines – she was far better known to some of my older friends than me. I think they thought I couldn’t keep up with her stellar career.
The big question, though – the one everyone is curious about – is what age-gap sex is really like? Well, without being too indiscreet, it’s great. Really great.
We don’t have to worry about contraception or monthly cycles and our sex drives actually match. We’re both considerate but we have one rule: if one person wants sex and the other doesn’t, the person who wants it wins. That always works for us. She is physically fit and in good shape.
She can wear clothes she bought decades ago because she has not gained weight or changed shape radically. She has just as much energy as I have and we both have very compatible views on quantity, quality, novelty and so on. The best thing about the sex isn’t so much the actual physical act – although, as I say, that’s pretty incredible – but the lack of drama around it.
Neither of us bring hang-ups to bed, or tantrums, or silences. We don’t ever argue about sex, and if we want something different, we say so.
Woodall defended the relationship spanning such a wide age gap, saying he was pleased to see it on the big screen
One thing I would rather she did not do is talk about her body and how it is changing. She seems to forget that everyone’s body changes all the time. She doesn’t need to worry about it, or at least not on my account. I love her body as she loves mine.
I’m fitter and healthier because of her, too. My days of stumbling around holding a fourth pint are over. We both actually look forward to hitting the gym, training with weights, doing cardio and yoga. We eat healthy food and actively try to improve our lifestyle, which sounds boring until you find you feel better for doing it.
We also have tons of fun and laugh all the time, often to the point of tears. We always find the time to drink wine and stay up too late watching an idiotic blockbuster together. The fact that we’re not forever hurrying our relationship on to the next ‘milestone’ – meeting the parents, getting engaged, planning the wedding and so on – means the pressure is off in a gloriously freeing way.
When bad things happen, we take it in our stride and support each other. Despite the fact that we’re a couple, we don’t cling to each other like a pair of frightened monkeys.
I think that’s the plus of being with an older woman: she knows how to not make a big deal out of things that aren’t that important. If she encounters a problem, she’ll find a logical solution rather than get upset, and that, I suspect, is another function of her greater life experience.
In our case, genetics dictate that I’m more likely to end up dead before her. Her family all live to be in their 90s and beyond (her aunt told people she was 87 because 92 ‘wasn’t sexy’).
My relatives have not been so fortunate, so odds are that she’ll be the one Nutriblending my meals and serving them to me through a straw. We joke about it, but we haven’t really discussed future caring in the light of the age gap. Neither of us are looking that far ahead.
Being in an age-gap relationship means I’ve seen things, experienced places and met people that I know I wouldn’t have otherwise. She knows so many people, so many great restaurants. She has travelled more than me and is curious about so much more that there’s no way I could ever be bored with her.
I do wonder whether Bridget’s 26-year age gap would be a problem. It’s much bigger than ours. At what age does a difference like that become a separating factor? Can you imagine a 50-year-old man with a 75-year-old woman? And vice-versa. When do mutual interests and activities become impossible? I’m not sure I know and I certainly don’t want to judge. I’ve had enough of people judging me, after all.
For now, my older lover seems to appreciate and love me the way I am. Of course, there are things she’d like me to change – the size 12 shoes I leave in the hallway and the shirts I never iron – but that’s ok, it’s what people do when they care about someone, so I don’t feel it’s bullying or controlling.
We don’t argue and we’ve never ever pulled the age card on the other one – accusing each other of either being too old or too young to understand something – because that would just hurt feelings and achieve nothing.
We have nothing left to prove to each other. With us, stagnation and comfort are the enemy. I think far more relationships shrivel and die from boredom than old age. And we are never, ever bored.
