I kept my May-December relationship with Brian a secret by sneaking out of the house to see him probably five to 10 times a week. It was exhausting, so one day, I finally approached Brian about meeting my mom. Because I still lived with my parents at that time and didn’t drive, I asked him if he felt comfortable with me discussing things with my mom, or at least meeting her to make things easier—I was tired of sneaking out all the time. I assured him that she wasn’t judgmental about the age difference due to her own experiences, and it would make seeing each other a lot easier. He wasn’t comfortable with it at all because he was closer in age to my mom than to me. So, we never broached the subject again.
During the times I snuck out to see him, he would often be waiting in his pickup truck with that wily smile, beautiful brown eyes, and his large muscular arms waiting to hold me tight. He was very fit with a shaved head and goatee, exactly what you’d expect for a typical blue collar biker.
We would drive to his house where he always had little surprises for me. It was always something new and different, because he wanted his girl to feel special and have nice things. Our relationship was wonderful; it was based on us and everything else was just a bonus. We would dance, cook, make love, and just hang out. I could really be myself with him.
Without any outsiders peering in and judging, it was very relaxed and just a happy time. More than anything, he wanted a companion, a sexy little friend who didn’t nag him, and a lover who was willing to try new things. I was all of those things for him; I did everything I could to make him happy. I honestly gave him my all and was happy to do so. In his words, being with me during that time was like “having his own Playboy playmate.” Everything that made Brian happy, made me happy.
At one point, we decided to try having a cookout at his house, inviting his friends and a few of mine. It was awkward to say the least. Between my younger friends and his middle-aged friends, there wasn’t much witty banter, but thanks to the alcohol, it was tolerable. It was at that point that I realized this would be a norm for the rest of my life. The taboo stigma attached to dating an older man, meshing friends, and having parties would almost always be strained. It still bothers me to this day, although it’s become much less noticeable as I’ve gotten older.