A study published in Psychology Today examines the question of which partner is happier in a romantic relationship involving a considerable age gap. “Most people date or marry a significant other whose age is within a couple of years of their own,” the article begins. “However, relationships or marriages with an age gap of up to decades are becoming increasingly common. The psychological dynamics of such relationships are not well understood, as only a few scientific studies have focused on them.”
This one—comprising 126 volunteers who provided data on their relationships—reaffirms what most people believe; that, on average, the older partner is happier, especially if it’s a man.
Ah, but there’s a corollary, equally unsurprising; younger partners feel more financially secure, especially, also, if the older partner is male.
All of which fascinates me because, well, my Filipino wife is 34 years younger.
Those perceptions became an issue early in our marriage because, being dumb and addicted to public exposition, I couldn’t keep from writing a magazine expose’ on the whole darn thing.
“If I were him,” one wary reader responded, “I’d sleep with one eye open. His new little honey may not think this ‘arrangement’ is so wonderful.”
“Oh my God,” declared another, “he looks like her GRANDFATHER!!! I wouldn’t let that shriveled thing near me for any amount of money.”
There were so many negative reactions that the piece went viral, generating newspaper articles, blog posts, and an appearance on California Public Radio. And, for a time, we—or, more specifically, I—were not the toast of the town, but its tarnish
I bemoaned that diminished stature until my wise young bride spoke up. “Just stop reading the comments,” she urged. “None of those people know us, so why should we care?”
That was 17 years ago, and I’m happy to report that since then, our image has somewhat recovered. But I also have a confession to make; though the age gap has never seemed paramount in our marriage, it increasingly invades my thoughts as I get older, especially now that we have children.
The query goes something like this: what will my beloved wife do when I’m gone? Will she be happy and stable? Financially able? Will she have difficulty finding a new partner?
And what will become of our kids? My 14-year-old son and I are close; he needs the guidance of a father. And our five-year-old daughter is the light of my life; will I last long enough for it to shine brighter?
These questions haunt me less now that we live in the Philippines, where families are more protective and all-encompassing than in my native US. I noticed that the first time I came to Surigao City. Within hours of meeting my future wife on the dock, she had hustled me aboard a small boat laden with pigs and bananas bound for Siargao Island where her family waited patiently.
“So,” my future mother-in-law began the interrogation in the presence of my fiancé’s father, siblings, aunts, uncles, a bevy of cousins, and several dozen townspeople peering in from all directions through open windows and doors. “You want to marry my daughter!”
As intimidating as it was, I felt equally impressed; here, I realized, was a family that would definitely take care of its own!
But what of my lovely wife; how does she truly feel? Sure, she assured me early on that age is just a number. But was she telling the truth, or does she actually fall into the “average” category of younger women in that study who are less happy than their older husbands?
I can’t speak for her, of course, but I hope and believe that she’s the exception. Because 17 years is a long time to wonder. And it’s a very, very long time to pretend.
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David Haldane is an award-winning American journalist and author with homes in Southern California and Northern Mindanao. His latest book, Dark Skies: Tales of Turbulence in Paradise, was recently voted #1 on Goodreads Listopia’s “Best American Memoirs.” This column appears weekly in The Manila Times.
