Older Men...

Last week I was sat listening to a friend discuss her love life. She told me that she was dating someone in his forties, late forties, nearing fifty actually. She’s roughly my age – 21. Her boyfriend is older than my father.

I never considered myself prudish or unbelieving in love. After all my walls have a Gone with the Wind poster on them, I’ve read and enjoyed (a few) Mills and Boon, and one of my favorite plays in Romeo and Juliet, so I firmly believe in the impossibility of romance and want to know that it could conquer all. Well nearly all…

Be that as it may when I discover that many of my friends are out there – dating, sleeping with and even recently conceiving a child with much older blokes, I start to question this rose tinted version of romance that I have. Is this just a normal activity, and I’m being over sensitive…. I mean are there always a certain number of young women who would rather date much older men? Or perhaps women nowadays are being pursued by older men… what’s really going on, that one makes us want to date blokes old enough to be our dads and two, makes these guys think its okay to pursue females that are so much younger than themselves…

Are we becoming rather overly sexualized or programmed to be attracted towards older men? Perhaps is it just preferable to the younger possibilities that face women of my generation? (Certainly considering some of the guys that I know, of my age; lets just say any change would be welcome!) Perhaps it’s the desire of the female species to want a richer ‘protective’ man who can definitely look after us….

I’m sure that the older man fantasy exists for many young women - George Clooney, Robert Downey Jr… etc but they are figments of the imagination – they’re not real. You can also fudge the age somewhat. Considering I have DVDs featuring Johnny Depp at about my age (they are truly terrible! Benny and Joone - frightful) age becomes immaterial and adaptable. My point is this…. I can separate my fantasy of some charming older man, who is experienced, probably well off, mature and dashing. But the reality is this, the men who are twenty or even thirty years older, who are hitting on women my age – I wouldn’t want to date them.

Because basically if a man approached me in a bar, and it was obvious he was say – about forty – I’d think to myself ‘what the **** is wrong with him?’ this is not a confidence issue on my part, because I’d think the same thing if he started chatting up a friend of mine. I’d think this, and then I’d concluded that they need the confirmation or validation of dating someone young enough to be their daughter. I wonder why they’ve not grown up, out of there twenties and all that it involves – silly sex, drinking till 4, too many parties, and essay deadlines – where’s their maturity that they still want this? And why are they so incapable of maintaining a relationship with a woman their own age? That’s why I’d not hand over my number to someone twice my age…

If they’ve interested in a relationship with a girl some much younger than themselves, they are probably attempting to regain their lost youth – rather like Henry VIII and Catherine Howard, and we all know how well that turned out – so what would be the appeal in dating someone like that for my generation? After all the reasons why women my age want old men is for maturity, not for someone who wants to stay up till 4 drinking and discussing the meaning of life….

Reality therefore shows that we’d have little in common and I suspect very few similar goals. What would be the appeal?

The more I learn about my friends’ love lives the more I see that many of them do, err… dapple, flirt with and even sleep with older men (some of the married…) is this my friends’ fault or the more mature and responsible adult? Or maybe it’s both of theirs?

I actually do have a solution – STOP BELIEVING IN THE FANTASY. This goes for both the older man, and younger woman.

Men –

The women who are young enough to be your daughter’s are just as needy, talkative and opinionated as the women of your own generation. If you really need to sink to the junior league then you’re a tad sad, really… Considering the number of women who I know, who are older – in their thirties, forties and fifties, many of whom hold down jobs, raise families, pay mortgages etc… few of them need to satisfy their insecurities by sleeping with their son’s friends, why is it ok for men to do it? And worse for many of us to write it off as sexy?

Women –

An older man – someone who is mature, knowledgeable (in the bedroom) and not afraid to commit – this is a FANTASY. Because if a bloke is mature, sensible, kind, good in the sack, and interesting he probably has a wife or girlfriend roughly his own age and doesn’t need to pawn at his daughter’s mates. He cannot be both the wonderful man, and alluring charmer – that would be a complete contradiction.

Leila (name completely made up) – the one whose has the much older partner, said that who is to judge the complexities of love – who has the right to say 'that it shouldn’t be'? She states that she loves him, and feels that they belong together. I agreed that I’d be more open minded, until she told me that’s so curious about guys our age, about finding things out on her own as an individual, of all the normal things that a young adult should want…. Yet she can’t because she’s living with him. That isn’t fair, not at all.

I know she thinks its love and up to a certain point I can see her viewpoint… freedom of choice but in reality she doesn’t have that… he picked her up at thirteen and the relationship ‘blossomed’ from there… there’s no choice in that. After all, we in society, don’t let those of thirteen vote, take exams, marry and yet my friend has walled herself into a decision which is virtually impossible to climb out of – because of a daft fantasy.

There’s a line, which you shouldn’t go over. And to put it bluntly if I knew my daughter was sleeping with a man older than her father… I’d probably castrate him, regardless of civil liberties and polite behavior… and I half wish that is what Lelia’s parents had done!

Turning into Bridget Jones…

I always loved both the film and books about Bridget Jones (even the second movie I watched!) and previously, it had never occurred to me that aspects of the book/film were to become reality. At least not until I reach my thirties, which is a LONG way away, but sadly that is not the case. You see that “tick-tock, tick-tock” thing that one of Bridget’s parent’s friends does, it really happens. Okay it might not be so obviously, and in my case it is less about age, but I have noticed a definite rise in the question (or something to the same effect) ‘so what’s your boyfriend’s name?’

In fact it happened two weeks ago. I was out pre Christmas shopping with my mother, and the sales assistant discovers that I go the same university as her son did. She smiles delightedly and says, “so have you met a nice boy then?”

I could have said no (that would be a lie, I have many male friends at university, most of whom are lovely), I could have told her to mind her own business, or said ‘nope, but how’s your mid life drooping libido treating you?’ but I didn’t. I’m polite and possibly too nice, so I say I haven’t been that lucky yet.

The sales assistant looks at me blankly, perhaps expecting me to sprout another leg or start spitting pus to explain why I am incapable of finding someone who can bear my company, and for a couple of moments it’s tad difficult. Then she starts bleating on about her son’s welsh girlfriend. And I smile and nod and pretend that I’m interested.

And I dismissed it. But then my friend was telling me about her Christmas, and it turns out that her folks began quizzing her, about her love life too. (It’s a comfort at least to know I’m not alone in that!)

I can’t decide which is worse, your family thinking that you’re a social reject or the pity of a random stranger… perhaps it’s the combination of the two. This third option is rapidly becoming a reality, as if, come a certain age, young women – 20 onwards are ‘on the self’, a term I thought no longer existed in today’s society. Clearly I overestimated culture. I would like to say, blokes don’t get asked these questions but I know they do. However I would say they perhaps don’t feel the same pressure to have the worthy trophy of a partner (they probably are under more pressure to lose their virginity though.) I honestly don’t know why people think they have the right to pry into someone else’s love life. You wouldn’t ask a stranger about their marriage would you? Or say to your aunt, what’s the last date you went on? No. Nor would any other topic quite so personal be up for discussion.

I am uncertain of how to deal with society’s limitations in this area and as for the questions since I don’t expect them to stop, I have decide to develop some answers… I really think the best option is too embarrass the inquisitive so and so who happens to be asking, into a blushing silence.

There’s always the popular – “no I’m gay” (perhaps not best said to family members, unless you actually are gay or want to have a long ‘coming speech’ for the sheer fun of it)

You could try, “no I dumped him, he didn’t believe in sex before marriage’ (again probably worth missing this one to the family, especially the older generation)

Or perhaps, “no, I dumped him, he didn’t believe in marriage” (this one would work on the folks, but maybe not if you’re under thirty)

I played with the idea of saying “no, he’s dead.”/ Bursting into tears and saying him dumped me. But both these replies take a lot of work and the first would in my opinion be going too far, and later would be embarrassing.

It’s an option to say, “no they are all nasty little creeps” (but this might make you look bitter)

You could say, “yes and he’s wonderful” and spin a story about some fantastical guy who you are totally in love with (don’t make him too great or no one will believe you!)

You could tell them he’s an astronaut in space, or a Columbian drug dealer, or a sailor who spends all his time on board ship far away…. You could tell them you’re asexual or, you could just say mind your own business.

I however freeze over and no witty or cutting remarks come to my mind when faced with stark curiosity of strangers or family and that horrid question. And instead rather like Ms Jones, I mumble something about still searching and pray silently they bugger off and leave me alone.

Because actually I like this, and no one else is facing up to their romantic situation or discussing it at length, and honestly they shouldn’t have to. It’s private and personal and only to be talked about when drunk with a couple of girlfriends. So come Christmas next year (sadly Wendy Cope’s poem is also becoming a byword for my existence) or the next time someone asks me point blank rank, I’m borrowing something from Facebook and going with the vague, pink-cheeked reply “It’s complicated” because it is.

Racist Exeter

I can understand a mother’s frustration and fury at hearing that her child has suffered from discrimination and abuse. I can sympathise with her reaction.

However those in glasshouses shouldn’t throw rocks. After all wasn’t Ms Thompson, educated at Cambridge? Surely during this period, of her education, and perhaps even today this institution might be regarded as elitist?

In going to Exeter – I am aware of the majority of white students and residents. Yet to my knowledge there hasn’t been any violent assaults or even complaints lodged…. Whereas in the last month there have been 4 attacks on young women in the area – all sexually motivated. Sadly however none of these victims had celebrity mothers….

What annoys me most about this incident is these two simple facts. Firstly Exeter seems too awed to deny or renounce these allegations. Just because someone is famous doesn’t mean that they don’t make mistakes or say inaccurate things. Secondly are we all now racists? Is that the label I am stuck with? Perhaps it’s simpler than this, and Devon is just a bit cut off, or is it the future stronghold of the BNP? (Side note – the two seats won by the British National Party were gained in the Yorkshire and generally are voted for the unemployed working class – of course I’m not meant to say that, as it would make me a snob!)

Other universities escape this label utterly – regardless of the fact that in the last week alone three black London students were attacked in the capital city, and furthermore, Scottish and Irish Universities have a policy of accepting a majority of their own nationals over other applicants. 

I’m not blind, I can see that Exeter is predominately white and often middle class, but what is Ms Thompson if not both these things? Why is it the worst insult a white middle class citizen can throw at someone, this label – white and middle class?

Tindyebwa Agaba, Ms Thompson’s son complained of two incidents – one not even on campus. Of course this doesn’t justify ANY form of discrimination – but please don’t tell me that if you suddenly got transported to Bristol, York, Warwick or Oxbridge – a large number of students wouldn’t be white and middle class, and there wouldn’t be issues of discrimination on one level or another – because I won’t believe you.

Exeter like all universities are suffering; because actually only the rich/middle class of ANY race can afford to send their children to the schools that will get their kids the grades, that will get them to the best universities. This isn’t FAIR. This is discrimination. By an actually sorting this problem out – would make universities and schools less discriminatory and give the chance of a free education to all, and make a less class-ridden Britain.

But this problem is far too broad – it involves actual work; a resorting of schools, and higher education rather than just a privilege woman taking revenge by pointing out the regrettably obvious – Devon is cut off and not diverse enough.

But my university isn’t… sure there are people who are bigoted and misinformed but there are also those eager to know more and be better. And doesn’t that deserve a fair chance rather than being written off as racist?

I actually went to the workshop with Ms Thompson, there was also the poet Dorothea Smart there. She had asked us to watch a clip of the writer Chimamanda Adichie giving a talk (really worth watching, she is a brilliant public speaker - http://www.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story.html). This author said something very wise; there is ALWAYS more than one story. She was discussing Africa and the perception of it being war torn and improvised, but she said that no tale is as simple as that. There is more than one story of Africa, more than one view. Thompson knows this, and yet she was happy to reduce us – the students of Exeter to one story – white and middle class.

We are; all of us – regardless of our race, class, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, whoever you are, as students – we are more than just one label or this story. 

And I wish that the university and Ms Thompson could see that.

Remembrance

I am currently reading an article regarding the emergence of Right wing politics in Eastern Europe, clipped from the Guardian just a few weeks ago. Yes of course some of comments worry me, and make think voting Conservative is a bad idea (but when honestly did I ever think it was a good idea? I mean Boris Johnson really?!) But what got me is not the absurdity of politics, that’s pretty much a given (do you really want a list? Blair for president???? Silvio Berlusconi? Bush… I could continue, sadly…) but my actual point is this….

Why is there a competition to have more people, that is ‘your people’ killed or dead? As if to say, “well in that genocide in ’73 I lost 5,000 of my racial/class/gender grouping.” And the reply is this “ah but I lost in ’65 - 8,000 of whichever opposing group you happen not to like… so there. I’m worse off.” The logic seems to state that by having more corpses you’ll somehow win the argument.

This isn’t a competition, and nor should it be. Death is death, and when it happens it’s a tragedy. When it happens because of murder it’s a crime, and when that is scaled up to genocide whither it be in Rwanda, Poland, Russia or Kosovo – its wrong. I’m not for a moment saying that the number of people who died should be forgotten, but by doing a comparative study or a rate scale does not make one unlucky slaughtered group any better or worse than another group who was exterminated.

The precise facts, actually shouldn’t matter because the fact that we continue to kill, rape, rob and disfigured is what is important now – we shouldn’t forgot those who are dead, not for a moment should we allow them to go quietly into the dark – their deaths, the deaths of everyone who has died because of their race, or religion, disability or gender have suffered at the hands of discrimination. To separate and say that one certain group is less fortunate or worse off or deserve more is just another form or different way of dividing and prioritising those gone.

Surely the ‘lesson’ from the Holocaust is going to have to revise its statement of “never again” we – the world – has watched and drawn graphs and said ‘ah but its less than in 1945’, when we should see that maybe the methods were less disgustingly efficient, but the end result is the same – a lot of dead bodies. And all the tit for tat and, all the ‘I’m worse off because more of mine are dead’; won’t bring the people back to life or punish those responsible.

The murder, the genocide and the finger pointing has to stop, the tragedy is this – people the world over are dying and being killed for stupid reasons, and we as humans do nothing to protect those who are flesh of our flesh, our own species for heaven’s sake, in fact we are pulling the trigger and watching them die, and then counting up the scales.

Feminism, women's rights

Didn't win the Guardian competition with this article, therefore I open it up to criticism, adaptions etc...

Many would possibility consider the rights of women completed; after all women are seen in the media, in politics and in high-ranking position, but actuality this is the minority, or just the few lucky ones. In reality the world over, women are suppressed - economically, religiously, politically and sexually. It is set up through a masculine governed culture that ranks women as lesser beings, placing their opinions and rights as secondary, and in many countries their education as completely unnecessary.

 

The list of problems that are facing women is extensive - from the illiteracy rates in many respected nations, to the women who are enslaved in workhouses and brothels. For example, the persecution of rape cases that are convicted in this country is less than 5%. Add to this the increasing acts of violence against women not only in England, but Europe and the world, and we can see that the Women?s movement; still has a long way to go. Yet, females are criticised for pointing out this crimes, which are committed against half of humankind.

 

If one, as I sadly discovered in my university seminar only a few months ago, is to declare oneself a feminist - you faced raised eyebrows and derogatory comments - and sadly, I doubt that this is uncommon. And worst, a majority of this hostile reaction was from my fellow female peers. It is, as though; it is considered unfeminine, to be a feminist. Arguments that I heard, and tried not to laugh at, is the thought that women are somehow endangering the male ego, which seemed to point, rather at fear of altering the established order of things, perhaps even making it fair (an absurd demand, of course). But who would want to give up their advantages, when they have been so irrationally handed out?

If there is a fault, obviously this misogyny is one, but we females can also take a part of the responsibility for probably re-address the balance. This I think can be pin pointed to the lack of unity in the Feminist movement ? this is not solid base for all of us to unite behind. But surely we all want equal rights?

Therefore perhaps a new definition of what it is to be a Feminist is needed; one that, women from a supposedly free and educated country such as England, will not feel embarrassment to be proud of. They will want to stand and say they are entitled to their equal rights, if fact it is something that they deserve -

 

The right to say and think as they please.

The right to vote.

The right to pursue their education, and career, as far as they choose.

The right to equal pay and the chance to compete for the best careers available.

The right to wed, whom they choose, without intervene from any source. Or the right to remain single should they decide.

The right to raise their children, with support from their husbands/partners.

The right to own property, land and moneys.

The right to sex, with whomever they choose.

The right to refuse or worship whichever religion they should choose.

 

Most of these listed above are, in fact human rights, but ones that, in certain situations and places remain elusive for many thousands of women. This is what Feminist should have established and enforced, and what, we, as females should be as one in achieving. These entitlements are justly ours, ones that through history, governments, and even our own fathers, husbands, brothers and friends have unknowingly or intentionally taken from us. We are given roles that we must play out, ones that have come to define us, but ones that also seep away our potential.

These roles that force women to consider beauty, above their health, intelligence and well being (for what else is the blind stupidity of the modelling world?s obsession with size zero?) I do not deny that it has become a self-fulfilling prophecy with females unable to escape the ?vital? importance of looks, nor do I condemn those who value their appearance, but it cannot and should not be the only quality that is required for a woman. It is something that turns them into the walking wounded, from ancient Greece with Helen of Troy, down to the unfortunate Ana Carolina Reston (who was only twenty-one when she died from anorexia in 2006.) These women are tragic examples, of placing so much importance on beauty. Women are not given the right to dismiss the imagined glory of beauty; they must fight even nature to preserve some false ideal, and sometimes they must even die for it. Nothing as fleeting as beauty should be worth that.

 

The ability to dismiss the significance of beauty is hard indeed, the right to do so; is perhaps even harder. What women so fundamentally lack is choice. Everything is so laid out, that making an independent decision is a constant battle. This lack of choice in the pursuit of the ?ideal? good looks highlights a real issue for women - the basic right to make a decision, on their own, and that one that will not gander criticism from either gender. Should a woman wish to develop her career; she should not be seen as cold or uncaring, nor should a woman who decides to have a child, be undermined as lacking in ambition or wishing for an easier time. Both these commitments should be valued, for both are worthy contributions to society. For this to happen changes must be effected. It should be an attitude that changes, we as individuals - both male and female - and in various different ways must change how we perceive one another, and stop attempting to prevent what is only fair and just.

 

Women?s suffering as gone unanswered for too long, it is high time that rights that women deserve go ignored. I hope naively perhaps that the world my daughters live in will be better, one, which they shall not fear. 

WHAT TO DO WITH USELESS FAMILY MEMBERS?

This is a question that has undoubtedly struck all of us from time to time. Especially when we hear our mothers telling us to tidy up a perfectly clean room, or smelly brothers finding your bra and thinking its funny. But I’m not talking about the annoying aspects of family life, which one day I hope I can look back on and smile at (or at least not wish to throttle my smallest sibling) Nor do I refer to the ones you read about in the papers, the ones who routinely leave their babies bruised, sexually assaulted and sometimes dead, although these tales are worth certainly worth hearing and the perpetrators deserve to be locked away for a considerable amount of time. No I am not referring to these, no I mean the rather useless variety of family members, the ones who are mean, and cutting and often pretend you don’t exist.

 

This is about some of the other sort of family members, who actually rarely deserve to belong to something that as this association of something loving and special – the family unit.

My family are for example an unusual bunch, filled with the very special to the frankly weird, and not very wonderful. Then again I doubt anyone would ever describe their family as normal.

However there exists some interesting people amongst ‘my group’ (also referred to as blood relations), whom I have on occasion questioned wither these people should exist within a family group, and why the possibility of eviction and the choice to pick someone new, hasn’t been invented yet. (Although I guess this comes when you marry/date a potentially new member…. Inviting some poor sucker to be pulled in, or worse integrating yourself into their possibly even stranger family. Neither option appeals right now, but exists in blissful future, and is sadly probably not too far off! Oh the joy of future in-laws.)

Of course we might all decide we what to be the son or daughter of a president or king, although if it’s a choice between say; ex-president Bush and Prince Charles, I’d be had pushed to decide which one, I’d rather not call dad. The fact however is this, that while we can pick our friends, family is trickier.

And I can count my blessing in my many ways in this regard, after all my family are still alive. I have a great mother and brothers, aunt, niece and grandma - I'm lucky. But the whole dad thing,its like opening a can of worms, with less pleasant results... perhaps opening a can of toxic fireworks???? 

But and I am not the only one in this situation, who can say with straightforward confusion, what the hell dad? This question also extends to his dear family… whom I have spent very little time with, but have decided perhaps prematurely that it was enough. Call me odd, but I actually think you can pick your family, or at least pick the ones you want to avoid and pretend don’t exist. If only this method worked during the holidays....

However, as a woman today, I seem to think that my relationship with my father is important, but the hopeful, “one day he’ll like me” or “one day he’ll stop calling me fat” or “one day he’ll say he’s proud of me”, really has to stop, if only for my own sanity. You’d think common sense would have kicked in sooner, when you consider the number of my friends, siblings and peers who come from broken homes, perhaps sanity has to be deserted or else you’d be faced with the harsh reality that a lot of these fathers, including my own, are mean shits who left our mothers, with not enough food, money or emotional support to raise an ant, let alone a child.

 

But believe it or not, I’m not writing about the uselessness of fathers, or even men (because I am aware of the women who do leave their children, although it is the minority whatever others say). No, I’m writing about the idea of family. In families, yes there’s arguments, fights and disagreements and yes, sometimes separation is the only option but the fact remains that family is meant to have been created under the ideal of unity, affection and love against diversity. You can’t fight both the other world, when your supposed base of affection and support is crumpling around you. Family is meant to be your link to your past, and is supposed to make you want to strive for the future, rather than think that you’d sooner eat live wasps than put another innocent life through the crap you’ve been through.

 

I guess I wonder if we can’t even be considerate and thoughtful to our own family, what chance do we have against the wider world? These lessons of respect, love and understanding should be one that is begun in the home, but since that is something that the previous generation has yet again not entirely succeed in achieving, we can but hope for the future and cut most of our ties with the past. And not choose them a nice retirement home....

Re Thinking

I always had a rather poor opinion of blogging to be honest. Had the rather highhanded theory that you'd have to be rather big-headed to want to run around saying whatever came into your mind... and the assumption that anyone would care, expect your nearest and dearest. But here I am, with a new viewpoint. Admitting my previous idea needed a rethink. 

Blogging is to my mind the perfect forum for honesty. As is the Internet, wither we like it or not. It is a chance for you to say and do, pretty much as you wish. The first real freedom of speech. It also offers up the global world at just a touch of a button.

Of course this isn't new, or news... but it is something, that in an age were, whichever direction you face, and whatever your political leanings the opportunity to express them has become limited or squashed. And thus with my first ever blog, I'd like to say hurrah for the ability to write, and say whatever I think. Even if its daft.