Like a Fine Wine

I am completely and utterly attracted to middle-aged women. This makes sense as I am a middle-aged man. Or at least it makes sense to me. I’m not entirely sure how to describe why I’m so drawn to women of this specific age other than it seems sensical and appropriate. But too often, men my age and older as well as pop culture and media in general, celebrate youthful sexuality and possibility. While youthful sexuality has undeniable allure, it glosses over women of a certain age, dismissing and indicating that there is little for them to offer, little value to be had after a certain age.

This is where it gets harder for me to explain. I’m certainly not dismissive of a 24-year-old woman who can exude beauty all her own. But, for me, something is missing from it, at no fault of the young woman’s own. My eye will always glance back over to the 38-year-old or the 45-year-old. I don’t know why that would be. It didn’t always use to be this intense. However, even in my late teens and early 20s, I’ve always shown an appreciation and interest in women a decade or two my senior.

There is a certain beauty, a certain glow to these women. We often talk about the glow of youth, and it is absolutely a thing, to be sure. But rarely do we talk about the self-contented glow of a middle-aged woman. It is there if we look and recognize it. It is especially there if we help, support, and recognize these women whose plates are certainly full.

Along with that, I don’t look at things like wrinkles or stretch marks, or weighing more than you did 10 years ago as a negative thing. I see them as well-earned stories, tales of experience in the adventure inherent of our existence. Tattoos that are given to us by nature and life.

I often find my mind stimulated and elated by a woman who can speak to current and past events. Someone who has the confidence and knowledge to hold her own with thoughts concerning intellect and culture. A confident and secure woman to allow me my space and time to wander and think while her own mind holds a space of confidence in her alone time and space.

I also enjoy the experience that a middle-aged woman can bring to the bedroom. The joys found there are numerous. Taking your time with a woman who’s had experience and knows exactly what she wants and what gets her off and isn’t afraid to tell you. In the throes of passion, someone who isn’t insecure about what you might think if she demands her own pleasure. A woman who has lived her life and knows what she wants but still has so much more life to live and love to give. She doesn’t have time to mess around with inadequate partners. I like a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to say it.

So, yes, like a fine wine, I sit and sip from the bottle, taking from it the inherent deliciousness. But, also hoping to give and appreciate in return. I can absolutely guzzle all of it down immediately over and over again, getting drunk upon its maturity. But that could be dangerous for both of us. Couldn’t it?

So I continued to sip, appreciate, and try to decipher all the individual and unique notes hidden within after a period of growth.

Thanks to my unofficial, informal, and unknowing mentor and inspiration for writing this piece, Yael Wolfe. She has written about topics concerning women, aging, and sexuality numerous times. Go read all of her work immediately, if you haven’t already.

—

Previously published on medium

***