The other day as I ate lunch in a café and two tables over sat a new couple.  The man was in his fifties with a sleek, fit physique and a silly soul patch on his chin.  His date – attractive, late twenties, yoga attired leaned in for a kiss.  Not a daughter kiss, but a real lingering kind.  I shuttered, ugh, get a room.

 Ok, yes, I might sound cruel, maybe a bit, but let me explain, I was that idiot girl dating too old men in my twenties.  I loved them, perfect dates – gentlemen, paid for everything.  We went to cool places and I was still an idiot.  Every stupid, idiotic “what-not-to-do” when dating mistake I have ever made happened while dating older men. 

 These are some of my favorites, “Oh no I don’t mind that you are two hours late, just calling now, to explain the business meeting rolled into supper so you wouldn’t be coming over after to all,” or “Sure, I like hot, burn the insides of your mouth food,” or “I know you were too busy with work/your kids to buy me a present for my birthday” and the capper, “of course, I understand you just had to sleep with your old lover when you were in China on business, thanks for your honesty…And since we’re being honest, I also slept with someone while I was in Ireland.”  True story, and happily the relationship crumbled after my statement of a ‘doormat no longer.’

 Every time I think of these stories I can not stop laughing – what was I thinking?  Who replaced the redhead when I wasn’t looking?  And then I recall where I was in my life at that time, I was sad.  I had just gotten out of a long-term relationship, heartbroken and penniless.  I was looking for someone to take care of me and here comes the divorced parade of forty-somethings.  I was easy pickings for awhile – I can’t deny it.  We all gained though – we were just borrowing. 

 These men were borrowing my youth, dare I say my ‘awe’ of them.  They had the answers – knew more, jez, they lived longer after all 15-20 years my senior.  Hence I let them lead without a word really…well, at least until Ireland then all bets were off again. 

 While I dated them, I was borrowing security, support, and honestly, escaping into another world.  I was playing house in some ways and then suddenly, it’s just was not that fun any more.  I didn’t want to borrow security from anyone and I certainly didn’t want to follow for the rest of my days. 

 The concept of borrowing was further emphasized when I read David Schnarch’s The Passionate Marriage where he discusses this borrowing phenomenon in all long-term couples. 

 So, as I glance over and see the overt signs of borrowing, I am also reminded of the three fingers pointing back at me.  What am I borrowing from my husband today?  Is it helping me or hurting me????