By WALTER ANG
July-August 2010 issue
Asian Dragon Magazine
I'm 59 years old now and have been dating men younger than me for the past couple of years.
I was only 18 years old when I got married to a college friend. I had five kids by the time I was 25 years old. My husband was intelligent and handsome but lazy as hell. To put us both through college and to put all five of my children through private school, I did all sorts of jobs, mostly selling odds and ends, from longganisa to make-up.
After I gave birth, my body became more curvaceous, more voluptuous. A lot of men would flirt with me, but I was a devoted mother and wife. No hanky panky at that time in my life. After my children were all done with college, I finally separated from my husband after being together for twenty years. There was a deep sense of liberation.
Circumstances were such that I was raised by my half sister (from my father's first wife) until I was fifteen. She was a teacher and raised me in a very orderly and strict environment. I eventually moved in with my mother who was more lenient, but after a few years, I'd gotten married and was thrust into the obligations of motherhood.
You can see that a large portion of my life had always been regimented and I didn't really have time for enjoying myself.
Finally, I could do whatever I wanted and go out with whomever I chose. I don't approach them, they come up to me. My friendly nature makes me attractive to men. I treat everyone the same, whether you're a CEO from a rich subdivision or if you're a janitor from the slums. I talk to everybody!
I remember one of the earliest relationships I had with a younger man. I was in my early or mid 40s and he was in his late 20s. All the time we were together, he never told me he was married. Well, when I found out, that was the end of that.
I just play with them, it's all for fun. Overall, it's just lust, not love. But friendship is there. And affection, too. I'm human after all. It hasn't always been all roses; I get hurt, too. But I know my limits and I always reserve something for myself. Since I have no intentions of committing to anyone anymore, they usually end up leaving when they realize they'll never have me.
When I was 48, I dated an 18 year old who was forced to dance in a gay bar to make ends meet. He had to earn whatever he could to take care of his crippled father. I bought his father a wheelchair and my boyfriend was very grateful. I helped him get a job in Europe doing administrative work for some train station and he's now married and has a family of his own.
I never expect someone younger than me to be as financially capable as I am, so I occasionally help out my boyfriends. I'm very helpful by nature, so it doesn't bother me. In fact, all of them usually refuse my help. So I'm lucky that way, I don't end up with leeches.
When I was 52, I was with a man who was around 27 years old at the time. I had no idea that he was semi-famous. As it turned out, he had occasional stints on television and total strangers would greet him when we went out. I thought he was just a very friendly person.
This time, I was the one who was given money and gifts! He would never accept anything from me and would always ask me out to dinner. If he finished projects for television, he'd call me even in the middle of the night to invite me to join him for a snack or drink.
But really, it's never about the money. It's the companionship they're after. Someone to talk to, someone to go watch a movie with, someone to have dinner with. I like to have fun, I enjoy going out, so why not me, right?
When I was 55, I dated a 25 year old who was a deadringer for Piolo Pascual. My friends teased me all the time, saying that I was dating a "celebrity." I would reply, "I don't date ugly men."
My relationships usually last from around six months to a year. Long term relationships? Never again! But with this one, we were together for a few years. He really loved me, even estranging himself from his family because they didn't approve. He was getting too clingy and needy. He had a temper, too. I didn't need all of that so I ended it. He wrote me a very dramatic farewell letter. "I loved you more than my own life," it said.
I think I'm still recovering from that one, but there are no regrets. For now, I just go out by myself. I play golf and tennis, I go ballroom dancing. Till the next one comes along.