I'm from the other side of the country, but I'm sitting in my lover's San Francisco apartment wondering what I'm doing. I flew out here to spend five glorious days with her. We connect sexually (she's a Dom stone-butch top, I'm a queer femme sub), we connect intellectually, and we make each other laugh. I'm head over heels for her and for this city.
But she's literally twice my age. In no way does this bother me. She's handsome and wonderful, and I'm so proud to be with her. But she frets that she's too old for me and will die before me and it isn't fair to have the feelings we do.
I can hang on to this ledge, Dan, and not let myself utterly fall for this woman so that she doesn't break my heart when she says we must part as friends. I think that is what is coming. But I know she feels conflicted, and I can't see anything wrong with the two of us enjoying what time we have together. The future is unfixed for everyone; you never know what will happen tomorrow. Why deny something we both want, if it's what we both want?
If I have to just walk away from this with a slew of great memories of a loving introduction to the greatest city on earth, there are certainly worse things. But I wish I could convince her to at least let us have a chance. How can I do that, Dan? What on earth can I say?
Lost In Fog Everyday
Start with the clichés — "Age is just a number," "I could get hit by a bus tomorrow," "Someone's gotta change your diapers" — and finish with a grace note: You love her, and you want to be with her, and you hope you'll always be close, whatever she ultimately decides.
That said, and forgive me for this, LIFE, it's possible that although this woman is what you want, you're not what she wants — for reasons that have nothing to do with age. She may be pointing to the obvious age discrepancy because it's a convenient, face-saving out, a way for her to pull the plug while sparing your feelings.
So a word of warning: If she wants out and cites age, you may be tempted to press your case — and you should, up to a point — but press your case too far, and she may wind up telling you the inconvenient, face-squandering, feelings-spearing truth.
I am a 19-year-old straight male who is only attracted to chubby girls, though I myself am rather skinny. It took a while, but I've learned to embrace this (though at first it seemed almost as scary as if I were to come out as gay). However, the problem I seem to have now is that the girls whom I find attractive — big girls — don't think of themselves as attractive, and that is a turnoff for me. Despite what seems like constant effort on my part to raise my exes' confidence in themselves, they never got any better and the relationships always ended. I'm not exactly bursting with confidence myself, either, but I tried my best to be a loving and supportive boyfriend. Yet time and time again, their images of themselves somehow seemed to actually turn worse, not better. I attribute a lot of their initial insecurity to the media, but I can't help but believe I somehow screw up and exacerbate it.
Troubled Horndog In Need
You're young and you've accepted your attraction to bigger girls, THIN, and that's great. But the girls you've dated — presumably close to your own age — are doubtless still struggling with all the shit that's been thrown at them about their bodies. To grow confident about something that caused you a lot of pain — to say nothing of being with someone who's attracted to you in large part because of that something-that-caused-you-pain — can take time.
That said, THIN, if all the bigger girls you've dated emerged from your relationship feeling worse about themselves and their bodies ... you might be doing something wrong. Were you treating your girlfriends like human beings and talking about their bodies in a way that made them feel attractive? Or did you treat them like fetish objects and talk about their bodies in a way that made them feel disgusted with themselves — and with you?