As a 67 yo woman who prefers men in their late forties to mid fifties, much of what you say here applies but in different ways. It’s arguable that there are generational issues (for me, Boomer men, not all, but too many are hamstrung by old expectations about what women should or shouldn’t do). While this is hardly always the case, to be fair, most older men within spitting distance of my age cannot possibly keep up, and kindly this doesn’t have a damned thing to do with sex. It has to do with fitness, endurance (all kinds) and general vivacity and vibrant health. And an education, and curiosity and their own sports and work and a life and source of happiness and confidence and emotional maturity. Not that I want much. Goddamned right I do. We all do. Just because I’m 67 doesn’t mean I don’t want the same things I wanted at 40 or 50 or 60. The expectations shift a bit, but the desire for quality company in fact increases. Which is why I spend most of my time alone, unless I’m on one of my adventure trips somewhere ridiculously amazing.

There are plenty of younger men who are very old before their times in attitude and in body. Just like there are plenty of very old, angry bitter women in otherwise very pretty 25 year old skin sacks.

You are at an age where the choices available to you are far vaster than to me at 67. My age alone scares most men off, and the photos I post do the rest of the job. I really am a serious jock, and some geriatric for whom pulling garden weeds for twenty minutes puts him on the porch in a near-coma isn’t likely to be particularly interesting. Most men I know past sixty would be lying DOWN on the two large couches I’ve had to manhandle around my house, solo, one of them a damned heavy sleeping couch. Yeah. They’ be so exhausted trying to lift one end, they’d collapse on the damned thing and then I’d have to move the goddamned couch with their inert selves on it.

The other end of it is that those athletes who are my age, do indeed chase much younger women. Of course they do. Not my business, not my prob, dude. If they can find skirts who want them, have at it. The issue is and forever will be finding folks who take their health and lives as seriously as I do later in life, and are as committed to the fitness that provides the vehicle for being able to be in life at a high level. That, Sean, is really, really rare. I’ve dated younger men since I turned 31, never looked back. And the rare times I’ve gone out with older guys, well….here you go:

the last time I had a first date with a man my age (his photos lied), he spent our entire dinner regaling me with details of his recent colostomy.

DUDE. FUCKING….DUDE.

I will discuss tent pegs, ailerons, controlled spins, hiking boots, football (and I know a SHITLOAD about football), truck design, the military, taxidermy, kayaking paddles, I will fucking discuss any “man” topic you goddamned well want, but do NOT bend me ear about your colonoscopy. On a first date. Over dinner. Will you PLEASE.

People wonder why I’m single. DUDE. Jesus fucking Christ.

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Horizon Huntress, prize-winning author, adventure traveler, boundary-pusher, wilder, veteran, aging vibrantly. I own my sh*t. Let’s play!

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