Boylston Street bar, happy hour, summer 2012. Crowded with a plethora of colleagues, ranging in age from recent college grads up through our executive team. It’s a well attended event, and everyone is good spirits. I’m chatting with one of our 20-something guys, a handsome and talented kid with no shortage of ego. He’s telling me about a girl he’s recently begun dating, and we’re joking around. And then he drops the one word that immediately puts me on edge. He called me a “cougar.”
I think there are a ton of women who own this term and love it. For whatever reason, they find it an ego boost in the ability bag a younger guy, and claim him as a prize. And they are everywhere. If I walk into Abe & Louie’s after work, it’s a Cougar Den - hot women dressed to impress, working what they’ve got, for as long as they’ve got it. And good for them. Just don’t group me in.
I lit this poor kid up when he called me that. He said he thought it was a compliment. Perhaps to him it was. But the fact that he thought it was is exactly why I would never shack up with a younger guy.
Which leads me to this realization. During my introspective 38 Days of this Experiment, I’ve learned that apparently I’m pretty self-sufficient and independent. I also have no problem saying what I think. (I knew that but I now I really see that) But that can be pretty off-putting, especially to men. (I didn’t realize that, much.) So here’s a heartbreaking and painful admission. When E and I went to a marriage counselor before we decided to split up, a therapist told me perhaps I was “f*ckable, but not lovable.” That might be the single most damaging thing anyone has ever said to me. And thankfully, we both agreed the guy was completely unprofessional and decided to change. But the damage was done. What I took away from that comment was that I’m great on the surface level. But apparently I’m a friggin’ handful. Most men, including my husband, don’t want to be with a force of nature (not my words - other’s characterizations of my personality). And that leaves me in a pretty lonely place. Because ultimately, I can’t change who I am.
In last night’s post, I shared who I am from a work perspective - but that’s just one peel of the onion. As a mom, I am about as nurturing as they come. As a friend, I like to think that I am thoughtful, compassionate and generous. As a partner, I’d like to describe myself as loving and just that - a partner.
But people go only as deep as they decide they want to go. I’ve had more than a handful of people tell me I’m “intimidating.” That really bums me out, because I try so hard to go out of my way to be warm, friendly and inclusive to everyone. And now that I’m reinventing my life, I feel like I’m playing an even more “dominant” role, as I’m having to be both mom and dad most of the time. That is not a great place to be for someone with this issue.
So no, I’m not a cougar. Young men are cute, and always fun to flirt with, but that’s where it stops with me. I’ll take a real man any day of the week. Not only do I prefer the maturity, but I admire the self-awareness and acceptance that often comes with age. But until then, it’s looking like I am am both King and Queen of the Jungle. I’m needing to play both roles in absence of partner. And I don’t want to be the King. I love being a woman, and have no desire to always be the dominant force. It would be a welcome relief if someone would take over and provide a balance, even just some of the time.
On the bright side, at least lions have great manes…I’ll own that. :)
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