In tenth grade, we made friends with a group of older guys who hung out on the main street of town, which ran parallel to the local university — guys who'd once gone to our same high school and had never left the social scene. I remember how quiet it was, birds soaring overhead, no other sound. "Like we were supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, or something.""Well," she said slowly. I'd completely accepted her romance with an older guy as normal, even destined. When he wasn't upset, he was in kindness overdrive, buying me things: a gold necklace with a floating heart, stuffed animals.When they weren't doing BMX and skateboard tricks in front of the post office, they were spending what money they had at the nearby arcade, or spinning on stools and shooting straw wrappers in their favorite burger joint, just across the street. I grew to dread the moments we were alone, especially when I needed a ride home at the end of the night to make my curfew.And despite Tim's initial blow-off, we have quite a bit in common.We're both driven and goal-oriented (he's a former Navy Seal turned entrepreneur, and I am a safety specialist for a company that manufactures gear motors).How wonderful it felt to have an "adult" who valued our opinion; thought we were not just cute but interesting. I was wearing a Bundeswehr tank top I'd gotten at an Army supply store and faded jeans, a thrift shop crucifix around my neck. But as we sat there together in the sunshine, the wine buzzing my head, I suddenly felt … All I had was my instinct and discomfort — a bad gut feeling. When I write novels, there is always a clear trajectory: the beginning, middle, climax, and end.My best friend was 14 when she fell in love with a 21 year old. My friend's older boyfriend was close with a guy I'll call T. My mother, spying him from the front window, asked me how old he was."I don't know," I said. After awhile, my friend and her boyfriend disappeared, leaving T. With real life, however, and memory especially, it is harder to keep things so neat and organized. In the first, I snuck out of the house with a guy friend who lived down the street. My friend came back, we went home and I slid back into my bed. The second incident I remember happened when he was giving me a ride home.Fast-forward five years and I am insanely in love with this man.I had never dated an older man nor did I ever imagine I would (although I did always find Harrison Ford more attractive than Chace Crawford, so maybe it has been inside me all along).
At this age, teens are very impressionable and prone to peer pressure.” Teens who have an older partner are more likely to have sex at an early age compared to those dating someone about the same age, says Mindy Scott, Ph D, deputy program area director of Reproductive Health and Family Formation at Child Trends, the nation’s leading nonprofit research organization focused on improving the lives of children, youth and their families.I was at a crowded bar in my hometown of Virginia Beach, Virginia, on a scorching July night when I mustered up enough liquid courage to approach the future love of my life.He was tall, muscular, and blond, with stone gray eyes and a low gravelly voice. But when I suggested we go out for a beer, he gave a polite yet immediate "no." Tim later confessed he thought I was beautiful and smart, but there was one thing working against me: I was 21; he was 47, and unlike most men who'd be flattered by a younger woman showing interest in them, he thought going on a date with a woman young enough to be his daughter would be ridiculous.Perhaps you divorced her father and she is seeking a father figure in her life.Or perhaps she is simply more attracted to a more mature man, who can offer her more security than a man her own age.There was something especially cool about being friends with them. "I don't want you hanging around with someone that much older than you.""Mom." I'm sure I rolled my eyes. ""So, no normal 20 year old wants to hang out with someone who is 15. Stay away from him."This was the sort of thing that always led to my leaving the room in a teary huff, maintaining loudly that she Just Didn't Understand. One Saturday, the guys planned a picnic in a nearby forest park. We had gotten in the habit of him driving me home, and my suddenly wanting to make different arrangements seemed to inconvenience everyone.