In the twilight of a vibrant life lived unconventionally, I find myself sitting down to share a chapter of my story that might seem as unconventional as the life I’ve led. I’ve always been drawn to younger men – never inappropriately so, but certainly younger. Perhaps it was their zest for life, their eagerness to explore, or simply the fresh perspectives they brought to a world I thought I knew well.
I spent years teaching at a local community college, and in that time, my evenings often found me at local bars, not for the love of the drinks but for the conversations and connections. My husband, a retired military man of honor and open-mindedness, was my accomplice in this unusual approach to life. He believed in living fully, a philosophy we both embraced even as he served tours overseas and I dove into academia.
We were married for 25 years, a quarter of a century that was as much about love and mutual respect as it was about understanding. He knew of my interactions with younger men and welcomed them, so long as he could meet them – his way of ensuring my safety and perhaps, in his own way, vetting my choices. He too lived his life to the fullest, with my blessing. Our marriage was one of trust, not just in fidelity but in the belief that we wanted each other to experience all that life had to offer, even in each other’s absence.
When he passed, a chapter of my life closed with him. The man who stood by my unique indulgence in the fountain of youth was no longer there to share in the stories or to laugh at the quirks of our shared experiences. I realized then that the thrill I found in the company of younger men was not solely about the pursuit of youth, but about sharing that youth with him. It was a mutual reclamation of the times we lost while he was away and I was buried in books.
Now, as I navigate this world without him, the thrill has indeed faded. It’s not the age of the men that brought joy, but the shared joy of living a life without conventional boundaries. I’ve come to understand that the connections we make, the people we choose to spend time with, are reflections of our inner desires and the spaces we try to fill or explore in our lives.
My husband gave me a gift – the freedom to know myself and to understand that love can be vast and unconventional. I look back not with regret but with a profound sense of gratitude for the years we had, for the understanding we shared, and for the unique companionship that was ours.
To those who read this, know that there’s no one way to love, to live, or to connect with others. Our hearts are capable of extraordinary flexibility. The true thrill comes not from the age of the partners we choose but from the depth of understanding and the breadth of experience we share with them.
In this season of my life, I find contentment in the quiet, in memories, and in the knowledge that love is a multifaceted journey. And perhaps, one day, the thrill will return in a new form, in a different season, as life has taught me to never say never.