*clutches Hubby tightly*
Wow. As someone opting out of the kids thing, this Salon article terrified me. I'm so glad I didn't have to be in this situation. The writer was at the time a 35-year-old (hello!) woman looking on online dating sites and found...At first I attributed my dates' decade-plus age gap to male swagger and the desire for a midlife ego boost. But after asking a 42-year-old man directly why he listed only women up to age 35 as within his "desired age range," I got the forthright reply I had begun to suspect. "Because I don't want to throw away the condoms on the second date," he said. "I want to be with someone who still has a few years left on her clock" was his unapologetic response. "So you're looking for the next available womb," I countered, "someone you think is still fertile enough to incubate your offspring, rather than a partner." "No, no, no, of course not!" he insisted. He wasn't that utilitarian; he only wanted someone who was still within a certain window.
These were Type A types, bursting with accomplishment and professional swagger. They had climbed the ladder and were now at its top, stunned to realize the narrow platform they ascended so doggedly held room for only one. "Meet wife, have children" was something they'd thought would just happen along the way -- but it hadn't. Now that they'd set the goal of getting married, they seemed more than a little surprised (bewildered, in fact) that this was one goal they couldn't make happen by simply applying their will. Often their opening monologues included the recent loss of a parent, or the revelation that they were staring down 50, which seemed to have galvanized their efforts to spawn. And with their eyes now on their rearview mirrors, many seemed to regret their noncommittal 20s and 30s, when driving to the top of their fields seemed to be the only thing on their minds.
"But you're 48," I would say. "How old will you be when your kids are in high school?" "Do you think you'll live to see your grandchildren?" I asked one man, who maintained it was just the next generation that mattered to him. "Did you ever consider," I said to a 47-year-old who disavowed adoption, "that if you're with a partner who is too old to have kids, then that means you can't have children either? That your partner's limitations are your limitations, because you love her?" Apparently not was the answer; his biology meant endless possibility, but hers was an obstacle. In my barrage of 10-years-plus suitors, I finally recognized a mix of both male hubris and underlying pathos. How could so many men have woken up to a desire for a family at an astonishingly and woundingly late point?
Geez, if I were still single now? I might still be single. I might go out on dates but I would probably be single.
These were Type A types, bursting with accomplishment and professional swagger. They had climbed the ladder and were now at its top, stunned to realize the narrow platform they ascended so doggedly held room for only one. "Meet wife, have children" was something they'd thought would just happen along the way -- but it hadn't. Now that they'd set the goal of getting married, they seemed more than a little surprised (bewildered, in fact) that this was one goal they couldn't make happen by simply applying their will. Often their opening monologues included the recent loss of a parent, or the revelation that they were staring down 50, which seemed to have galvanized their efforts to spawn. And with their eyes now on their rearview mirrors, many seemed to regret their noncommittal 20s and 30s, when driving to the top of their fields seemed to be the only thing on their minds.
"But you're 48," I would say. "How old will you be when your kids are in high school?" "Do you think you'll live to see your grandchildren?" I asked one man, who maintained it was just the next generation that mattered to him. "Did you ever consider," I said to a 47-year-old who disavowed adoption, "that if you're with a partner who is too old to have kids, then that means you can't have children either? That your partner's limitations are your limitations, because you love her?" Apparently not was the answer; his biology meant endless possibility, but hers was an obstacle. In my barrage of 10-years-plus suitors, I finally recognized a mix of both male hubris and underlying pathos. How could so many men have woken up to a desire for a family at an astonishingly and woundingly late point?
Geez, if I were still single now? I might still be single. I might go out on dates but I would probably be single.