Last night I had a half dozen guys calling out my name, hoping I would come down from my writing tower to join them at their beach bonfire. Unfortunately I didn't hear them, so I wasn't able to bask in the awesomeness of such a moment. But I did mosey on down the stairs around midnight for yet another Saturday night on Sand Lake. This makes 4 in a row.
After setting off some fireworks, the 34 year old boy from down the shore told me I only have about 8 years left. I didn't bring up the topic, but for some reason he decided to point out my aging reality. (Thanks - insert sarcasm.) It's kind of not fair that we are the same age, went to the same college, yet he has nearly 26 years left, while I only have 8.
Granted, I'm not going to die in 8 years, but the dream to get pregnant and carry and birth children of my own, very well could die. What's hard for women, especially single women in their 30s and 40s, is that we can dream and accomplish much in this world, but the greatest dream most of us carry is one that is beyond our control. Because we can't "make" a guy like us. He either does or he doesn't. And even if he does, it's his choice to decide if he wants to pursue anything more.
But when guys have biology working in their favor, many are in no rush at all. I don't think I would be either if I was a guy. As the band The Ataris sing, "Being grown up, isn't half as fun as growing up. These are the best days of our lives." Understandably there's less motiviation for guys than gals to get married and start making babies. Because for many, like my second hottest guy friend, they equate marriage and family with giving up on one's dreams. But there's got to be a way to do both.
By the way, it turns out males do have a bit of a biological clock. This New York Times article tells me I should look to date younger rather than older, because men's sperm after the age of 40 goes a bit down hill. It is still likely to "work," but the baby produced is more likely to be less than fully functional.