Boys, Not Men

Sometimes there are the nights when you just cannot sleep. No matter how hard you try, those damned thoughts of failure or heartbreak or general shitty life lessons just don’t leave. I’ve already covered this in The Princess And The Pea – a tale as old as time.

However sometimes you can’t just lay there, thinking. Sometimes you have to get those thoughts out. For me, this can mean anything from blogging to texting my mates to writing everything down in an epic journal entry… one night a few weeks ago it meant taking to twitter.It was a very important discussion; one that’s been bothering me since I first went to uni 8 years ago (oops am I showing my age?).

I started University at the age of 19, a year older than most of the guys in my class. Already at that point, dating a guy who was only a few months younger yet in my same year at Uni was rebellious. I regularly had comments from my classmates and friends regarding my choices to date whoever I fancied rather than worrying about age and sticking to guys that were older than myself. I was quickly known on campus as the “girl who likes younger guys” – slightly unfair, don’t you think? How was I any different to a man who dates a younger woman? And why did I get so much more of a hard time, for daring to date regardless of age, than my male peers?

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Even when I moved to New York, I found that it was the younger men who were drawn to me, and I to them. I cared less now, but it still stung when someone took the piss – No I’m not a cradle snatcher, no I’m not a cougar, no I don’t like them young, no I don’t refuse to date older men.

I just date who I like and whomever likes me back.

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I decided enough was enough. If men can do it why can’t I? And so ensued a twitter thread of epic proportions: enjoy!

2AM RANTS ARE THE BEST:

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