It seems Hollywood and all its glory has officially lost its shit. I just read that Maggie Gyllenhaal, a gorgeous freak of nature, was recently turned down for a role because, at 37, she was just too damn old to play a love interest. Let me be more specific: she’s too old to play the love interest of a 55-year-old man. What kind of fresh hell is this?

In the land of make believe and magical lighting, it seems 37 is over the hill. For this director, there was just no conceivable way that a 55-year-old man and his wrinkly ass would ever, could ever be attracted to a lady who was only 18 years his junior.

Maggie was in diapers when he began college. She was barely old enough to drink while he attended his 40th birthday party, “Over the Hill” balloons draped on every table. He is old enough to be her father–not her lover. I really hope the twenty-something this director casts is a really good actor, because despite what Hollywood hoping to sell here, Viagra and old balls are not attractive. Especially to a younger woman.

We label older women chasing younger men as “cougars.” We don’t have a name for older men chasing younger women, except for… a man. Their prowling is socially acceptable; ours is not. That, my friends, is what we call a double standard.  And this is in Hollywood, the land of fake tits and collagen. If 37 is considered too old to be sexually active in Hollywood, where does that leave the rest of us regular hags? Should we throw on our afghans and orthopedic shoes at 25 and sew up our vaginas?

I’m not naïve. I understand society’s attraction to a beautiful, young woman. Hell, I’m attracted to beautiful young women, and I am straight. But the message these movies continue to portray is that “old” is undesirable. I don’t know about you, but the person I am and the men I attract at 41 pales in comparison to when I was 21. There is something to be said about confidence that comes with age, something not easily achieved when you are still desperately trying to figure out who you are.

I wonder what this director is looking for in a love interest for his leading man. I can only assume this 55-year-old gent will be portrayed as successful, bright, and witty. God forbid, he falls for an equally fierce, independent, intelligent partner who isn’t looking to be saved.

A woman should be comfortable in her own skin and sexy because of her age not in spite of it.

Author

Julie has a Masters degree in Psychology, which has proved useless in trying to understand her teenaged daughter. She has the attention span of a gnat, zero sense of direction and loses at least 3 things every day. Except for a minor situation at a county fair, her children are not on the short list of items she’s lost. She is extremely proud of this. You can find her writing on Facebook or Twitter. She has been published on the Washington Post, Babble, McSweeney’s, Scary Mommy, and Huffington Post, among others.

2 Comments

  1. Amen. And, speaking as a woman of 50, my ass is NOT wrinkly. Though my sheets are. Wink.

  2. So you’ve been too old for four years. And you’re just writing this now? This is anonymous, right? Right?

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