Cougar Territory

"Do NOT run! Ever! Consider the housecat and the rat. What does the cat do when she sees the rat run? She chases it! The cougar will do the same thing if you run and I guarantee you, if she wants you, she will have you. YOU CANNOT OUTRUN A COUGAR!"

This quote refers to how one should respond to a real cougar, the wild animal, but they may as well be talking about a woman, in her 30s or 40s or older. The prevailing attitude seems to be that we’re predators, preying on young men, eating them for dinner, lunch or maybe a light snack.

The older a woman gets, the more she knows who she is. She gets better in bed, from experience, yes, and from a willingness to explore her body and what gives her pleasure. This isn’t true of every woman, but it’s pretty likely that by the time a woman hits forty, she exudes something indefinably sexy. Men gravitate to that. The shallow man, the one looking for a trophy girlfriend to compensate for their waning looks and thinning hair will seek out younger women; he feel threatened by a woman his own age or even a little bit older. But the younger man—call him the Ashton Kutcher-type, secure in himself and hot as all get-out— is looking at older women and going uh-huh, I want some of that.

You can call it the older woman/younger man dynamic, or the Mrs. Robinson effect, or the cougar syndrome, but whatever you call it, it’s here to stay. It was de rigueur in Hollywood ever since Elizabeth Taylor hooked up with trucker Larry Fortensky at rehab, who was around 17 years her junior. I think I was in my late twenties when Jackie Collins married some young thing, at least 20 years younger than her at the height of her Dynasty fame. Then there was Cher and Rob Camilletti; they called her his bagel boy for some reason I can’t remember. Anyway, the trend was firmly planted in Hollywood by the mid 80s. Since the rest of the world has always taken its cue from Southern California and Tinsel town, it trickled down to New York City and Boston and by now it’s probably hit Boise and Greenland.

When I was 29 I started dating a 24-year-old method actor. It was my first younger man, and I remember the thrill I got from breaking with tradition. I thought he was wild, boyish and sexy, and in truth he was an out-of-control alcoholic. After him I dated another actor (I was an actress myself at the time) who was 27 when I was 32; then a sketch comedian who was 29 to my 36. That’s how it went, the gap kept getting wider and I have always had a very what-the-hell attitude about it.

By the time I turned 40 (still single and Bohemian, now a graduate student) I was dating a 28-year-old. Am I a rebel, have I never matured, who the hell knows? I’m sure an analyst would have a field day—though my female Gestalt therapist has never been judgmental about me, maybe because she married a younger man herself! Everyone knows the sex is a better match: the younger man is more virile, has more testosterone flowing, while women don’t reach their peak until 33, or thereabouts and just keep on peaking (so far as I can tell!).

And Hollywood has never stopped re-making The Graduate (1967). It took the taboo subject of an unhappily married older woman who seduces a younger man and competes with her own daughter for his affections. The ironic part is that Anne Bancroft was only 6 years older than Hoffman at the time: they made him look younger than his 30 years and streaked her hair grey to make her look older than 36.

There are dozens of cougar movies made in that vein since then and I’ve seen most of them. They fascinate me, mostly because there is often a moralistic slant to the screenplays. Someone must suffer to compensate for all that mind-blowing, cataclysmic sex. In the ambiguously-titled Crush (2001), Andie MacDowell’s lover (sorry to ruin it for you) is literally crushed to death in a horrible accident. In The Swimming Pool (2003), the object of Charolotte Rampling’s affections is murdered by Rampling’s character, a mystery writer who sacrifices him to the plot of her latest novel. When I dated a much younger man a few years ago, we used to joke that he would come to a very bad end. He used to say that he had to sleep "with one eye open and one bare foot on the floor."

I saw White Palace (1990) with Susan Sarandon and James Spader again the other night. That is one hot movie, unflinching in its sexuality and honesty. Sarandon’s character, a 43-year-old working-class waitress picks up Spader’s 27-year-old rich, yuppie ad exec in a bar. They have a tumultuous time of it, and nobody approves of them being together. It is the only movie I can think of, other than Stella Gets Her Groove Back, where the age-mismatched couple actually ends up together.

Flash forward to 2006 and Madonna and Guy Ritchie are still together; 43 year-old Ralph Fiennes has been with 61-year-old (!) French actress Francesca Annis, since 1995; Demi and Ashton with their 16 year age difference just got married; the smokin’ actor Naveen Andrews from "Lost," has been dating Barbara Hershey who is 21 years older than him; and a gorgeous 59-year old Susan Sarandon is still married to 47-year-old Tim Robbins.

In my own life, I am now dating a man in his 30’s. There’s an eleven-year age difference.

He is gorgeous, has been lifting weights for twenty years and is in phenomenal shape. He’s a brilliant man with two graduate degrees from Oxford. He knew my age from the first date and claims it’s an advantage, not a concern. Of course a man who wants children may not want to date an older woman but that can be gotten around now, too, what with fertility drugs and surrogates and so forth.

Every time I date younger, my family and friends say "How young is this one?" And by now they say "Oh, eleven years, that’s not too bad." Or they shake their heads and say "It’s a long shot, Myna. It can’t last." The other misconception people have about the whole cougar thing is that older women are predators. Au contraire: young men are seeking out older women in droves now. We’re on their radar in a way we never were before. We do Pilates, we lift weights, and we look amazing. My boyfriend says to me "You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen." And I’m inclined to believe him.

Myna Wallin is a poet, prose writer, co-publisher of believe your own press and a radio host on CKLN 88.1 FM’s "In Other Words." Her first book of poetry, A Thousand Profane Pieces, is forthcoming with Tightrope Books this June, 2006 (website: http://www.tightropebooks.com/index.htm.) Myna’s chapbooks can be ordered at http://www.poetrymachine.com/believe