I love it when people send me links/suggestions for posts. It’s a big wide interwebz out there and I can’t possibly read all of it (hell, I can’t even keep up with my email). So when people send me smart ideas for posts, well, I’m in heaven.

Earlier today I got a link from a friend,“Is Online Dating Ruining the Lives of Middle-Aged Women? with her suggestion that it might make a good story idea.

My first inclination, before even reading the post, was to HATE it. First off, I hate the phrase middle-aged. Middle-aged makes me think of my mom and all of her friends sitting around the kitchen table playing poker, chain smoking and bitching about their husbands. But that’s my fucked up childhood.

I know that technically, I am middle-aged. Past 40. Half my life over. But I don’t feel/act middle-aged. Neither do any of my middle-aged friends. I guess what I’m saying is that, IMO, middle-aged is a phrase that feels outdated to me. Like that image of my mom and her friends. Of another era.

Add that to my immediate revulsion to articles that go on about the inherent crappiness of online dating. I’m on the record as pro-online dating and remain that way, even when I’m on a break. PLUS the ridiculous scaremongering of the title, “Ruining the Lives…” Good lord!

But then I read past the first couple of paragraphs (yes, it’s a shame that men in their 40s want to date younger women, leaving 40ish women with no one to play with) and it hit upon a theme I could very much relate to: Single women of a certain age finding themselves increasingly isolated (and online dating has nothing to do with).

Women also report losing friends because of the differences between single and attached lives. “As your friends settle down and have kids you can feel quite ostracised,” said Broom. “Last year I had a partner for about nine months or so, and during that time I noticed how I got invited to dinner parties again.

Anyway, I think the post is worth a read.

So, a few weeks ago I was out with friends, at a bar, and I overheard a women (who was a good 10-15 years my junior) say that she didn’t think it was age appropriate for older women to be out drinking in bars, acting like they were still in their 20s.

She was a stranger, talking to her friends, and happened to be sitting on the barstool next to me. I don’t know if she was talking about me (as people are always telling me I look younger than 40 – my actual age) but maybe she was. And maybe she was one of those super-rude people who says things like that in the hopes that she’ll be overheard by the person she was insulting.

Whatever. Whether she was talking about me and my friends (who were in my age group) and/or wanted us to hear… completely irrelevant.  Life is too short to worry about nonsense like that.

I was more interested in the idea. Is it somehow NOT appropriate to go out and drink with your friends after 40 (or 35, or 45 or some other random number)?

Really, what I find interesting is the concept of age-appropriate behavior. I hear the phrase (age-appropriate) tossed around a lot. And it frequently baffles me.

I’ve had people tell me that my lifestyle is not age-appropriate. Because, I guess, I’m still single and am not rushing to settle down (and am comfortable with the idea that I may never settle down). And I go out with my friends for brunch or dinner or drinks and still occasionally go out to parties and don’t have anything or anyone tying me down.

Like, I guess, I’m still in my 20s.

Except, what difference does my age make? I do these things because I enjoy them. And because I CAN.

Sure, lots of people my age have spouses and/or kids and responsibilities that preclude weekly brunches and frequents nights out.

But I refuse to buy into the narrative that those other people have made appropriate choices and I am, somehow, living an inappropriate life.

Sorry, no.

Different, yes.  Nontraditional, absolutely.  Inappropriate – bite me.

Sometime, somewhere in the last few days I heard someone talking about dating a person from work.  Or maybe it was something I read.  Anyway, it made me think of this story.

It was the last time I went out with a man from work, although I still cringe when I think of it as “a date”.

It was over a decade ago.  He and I didn’t work closely together.  In fact, days passed when we didn’t see each other. We worked in different departments, worked physically nowhere near each other. The only reason we really knew each other at all was because we were both on the leadership team. So once every two weeks we had to sit in the same dull meetings (which we each managed to find reasons to skip pretty damn frequently).

Anyway, one day he sees me and mentions a play that he’s going to go see. It was off-off broadway. Something I’d heard of and was interested in.  He asked me if I wanted to go with him. But he didn’t ask in a date-y way. It was casual, like he had an extra ticket. I though maybe he belonged to one of the theater clubs, where you can get tickets really cheap or maybe got them from a friend (I sometimes get free tickets from friends who are actors, etc).

And honestly, here is where I sound like a big ole bitch, it didn’t occur to me that he might be asking me out on a date. Sure, we were more or less in the same age group.  But I was just so… out of his league. There, I said it. I said yes to the play, thinking it would be cool to get to know him better as a friend, and we talked about grabbing something to eat beforehand.  Again, it all sounded casual to me. Like we were going straight from work and would be hungry so we should eat before the show.

So the day came and he was much more dressed up than usual.  I wasn’t.  And he made sure to drop by my office mid-day to say hello and that he was looking forward to seeing me later. And it hit me.  OMG, I think I have a date tonight with…

I didn’t know what to do.  I didn’t want to go on the date, because I knew it would be awkward and icky. But I couldn’t cancel either.  So I went.  And it was more awkward and icky than I could’ve possibly imagined.

Dinner was painful. I tried to stick to work topics, and he kept on trying to flirt with me.  When the bill came I took out my wallet and offered to pay for the whole thing.  In a friendly, “you got the play, I’ll get dinner” kind a way.  That’s probably exactly what I said.  And he got upset and insisted on paying.

Skip ahead to after the play.  He had a car (in Manhattan, WTF?) and insisted on driving me home, even after I said it really wasn’t necessary. And when we got to my place he leaned over and tried to kiss me. I felt I had no choice but to say the words.  ”No, I’m sorry. We’re never going to be more than friends.” Or some variation of that.

And then he asked why. So I politely, but firmly, told him that I had a strict Don’t Shit Where You Eat policy and I could never date a guy from work. At which point he got mad and sad that was a stupid rule and that I was being ridiculous or something like that.  And I quickly got out of his car and avoided him for as long as I could, which was probably no more than a couple of weeks.

Things were never good between us, after that.  Even though I tried hard to not reject him. To make it about the fact that we worked together. I guess he felt embarrassed, or something.

I’m pretty sure there’s no point to this story. I do have a pretty strict Don’t Shit Where You Eat policy.  But I would’ve broken it in a heartbeat if I met someone I really wanted to go out with  (now that I’m self-employed, it kinda doesn’t matter). And I can’t imagine any circumstance under which I would’ve accepted a date with this guy. I was interested in befriending him because that’s the kind of person I am. I tend to make friends at work. Allies.

I guess one of the reasons this date/non-date is something I still remember, after all of these years, is because he was so upset when I pulled away from him in the car.  The fact that I made it about us working together didn’t matter. Since then I’ve tried to be more conscientious about not accepting dates with men who I KNOW I wouldn’t ever want to kiss. Because the look on his face when I pulled away was just so pathetic.  I’d like to avoid seeing that expression ever again.  Or as rarely as possible.

Last week I mentioned how weird this was for me, trying to negotiate my new reality (gosh that sounds so dramatic).  My new reality = I’ve met a guy who I like and we’ve gone on a couple of dates and because I immediately knew he was the kind of person who’d get it/be cool with it I told him about the blog on our first date.

This is entirely new territory for me.

Anyway, I’ve decided to not be overly cautious or self-conscious in what I say about him.  I will stick to my blog policy and hopefully that will be enough.

Mr. Nicepost, like almost every other guy I’ve met via online dating in the past few years lied on his profile.  He is many years older than he stated online (more than 5, less than 10).  I’d guessed that before we met (I’ve become very good at guessing men’s ages) and then was 100% sure of it after our first date.  He’s a handsome man and has aged well, but he does look older than the age he was pretending to be (to my finely trained eyes).

His next birthday celebration came up in conversation during our second date and I came out and asked him his real age.  I made it clear that I was cool with the age he is.  And I AM.  He’s no where near the top of my desirable age range for guys (which I pointed out to him).

As I’ve said many times, and written about here and elsewhere, I pretty much expect these kinds of lies from guys.  And the men who lie have stopped feeling bad about doing it.  They feel they are justified (if I didn’t shave the years off my age, no one would reply…).  But it still annoys the fuck out of me.

I’m 39.  I don’t look 39, but I am.  And I clearly state that I’m 39 on my online profile, even though I know there are plenty of guys who won’t be interested in dating me because they see that as too old.  I try to see it as their loss.  Does it annoy me that some really interesting looking men (in their 40s) state that the maximum age of the women they’re looking to date is 35, or even 33?  Yes.  Of course.  But I’m not going to start shaving 5 years off just so that I can get more dates.  Nope.  I’m too HONEST.

Does this mean I’m thinking bad things about Mr. Nicepost?  No, not at all.  We’ve had a couple good dates and have our 3rd planned for Tuesday (assuming he doesn’t read this and cancel).  I just think it’s strange and frustrating how otherwise wonderful guys seem to think it’s OK to lie on their online profile.  And I’d be happier if they didn’t.  Lie.

Oh well.

Looking back over my weekend I realize that the same theme kept popping up in conversation. First on Friday night with Lostplum and our friend from Thrillist and then today at brunch with KB_in_NYC.

The topic was, if only I knew then what I know now (suprisingly, I wasn’t the one who brought it up either time).

The truth is, I can’t imagine what my life might be like now if I knew at 21 what I know now.  I was so utterly clueless then.  Clueless.  And of course I thought I knew everything. I am not in any way suggesting that all 21 year olds are clueless.  Just saying that I was.

I’ve been thinking about this for the past hour or so, and here are a few concrete things I’ve come up with:

• I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have married any of the men I’ve ever dated.  None of the knowledge I’ve gained about dating, men or relationships would make that play out any differently.

• Back when I was 21 and the hot pilot I’d met in Paris told me to stay with him for a while/indefinitely (blowing off my final semester of college), I would have said yes.  A girl only gets one chance to be 21 in Paris.  I could’ve finished college a semester or two late.

• I would’ve ended a couple troublesome relationships earlier.  Especially the one that seemed to eat my twenties.

• I would’ve been a better breaker upper.  I used to be really back at it.  Nasty calls and emails and all kinds of ugly.  I’m much better at it now.

• I would have travelled more, taken more chances, given my heart more readily.

I’m sure there’s more, but this is what comes to mind.  What about you?  What would you do differently, if only you knew then what you know now?