When T.E. and I first started we were each other’s deep, dark secret; we each had a person or two we’d confessed it to, but everyone else was in the dark. Was that part of the fun? Maybe. Certainly keeping a secret from my family and friends was a very new experience. To be honest I sucked at it – my people figured out there was something I was keeping to myself pretty damned quick, but they let me keep the “what” to myself for a pretty long time. For him it’s much easier – he keeps great gobs of his life pretty secret. Frankly he couldn’t fathom why this was so hard for me – the idea of such a level of sharing with one’s parents was covered in a thick coat of crazy to him!
For me the thrill of being a secret faded pretty quick. How do you not feel somehow like a bad idea when your person fears what would happen if the world found out? And slowly but surely the seal on my secret of him began to break too. Still I was amazed when he told his parents first! Brick by brick we brought down our secret walls and eventually he flew here and met the entire Hippyville family clan! His parents actually paid for the ticket to bring him here for the summer! Everything pretty much came out of the closet and oozed all over the place. And I realized how much I preferred it this unclosety, oozy way. Even when his more dorky, immature high school friends tried like hell to make a connection with me on Facebook (something he put a stop to right quick – my hero!!) I still liked that better than feeling like he was embarrassed by or ashamed of me.
Then he started at University.
He’s in a new place with new people and trying to really make a place for himself and I think this is all very, very good. I WANT him to make friends (though if they could be less hot, young girl things that would be nice!!!) and have a healthy, happy social experience. But some part of that demanded that our relationship go back to being a secret.
I’d be lying if I said I don’t understand that. First of all, what studly young dude wants to talk about his middle-aged girlfriend? NOBODY will find this hot, my friends. And to be honest, I still keep him a secret from my co-workers as I worry about how my boytoy might impact their opinions of me as well. I always hope he doesn’t feel bad about that; doesn’t feel like there’s any part of me that’s ashamed of him. Frankly I’m more embarrassed of my co-workers than of him, but I understand the challenges that this relationship could pose for me at work and the same, at LEAST, must be said about having a mom-aged babe in college.
But with all this mature, worldly understanding and getting-of-it I still don’t like it.
So here’s the plan: I’m going to become THE hottest cougar girlfriend a smokin’ young dude could possible brag about. I’m absing it up (totally a word) all week long and trying to work out all the time and investing in hot shoes and tight pants and I can do all of this stuff because I’m a grown-up with a job that allows me to make the money. And purchase the things. And pay for the gym. Oh yeah, I’m going to BE BRAG-WORTHY.
…just as soon as I get over the case of arthritis in my toe. Because now my old-person foot ailment is keeping me from cardio. And has me wearing sensible shoes. I’m now officially old, starting at the feet. Sigh.
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