Strongly Worded

Sex, Time, and Raquel

When I was a mere lass of 26, I nurtured an obsessive crush on S., who
was 32.

My unrequited love piqued my interest in the fundamental differences between the sexes and ages. As a 26-year-old-woman, I was deeply impressed by my age-mates who had procured commitments from older men. In particular, I harbored profound admiration for my friend Raquel, who was engaged to 30-year-old Matt.

According to Leonard Shlain, author of Sex, Time and Power: How Women's Sexuality Shaped Human Evolution, biology accounts for the disconnect between men and women’s sexual development, for the vexing misalignment of response. According to Shlain, the reason women peak sexually in their thirties and men climax in their late teens is not an unhappy coincidence; nor is the much-maligned incongruence between the duration of stimulation required by members of each sex (since, even in the cave days, willingness to meet woman’s complex sexual needs was likely to correspond to staying power in other arenas). Shlain asserts that women (or gynosapiens) are the only females in the animal kingdom who experience orgasm—and that Nature has bestowed this unique privilege upon us because we are also the only females who have caught on to the causal relationship between intercourse and childbearing. Because women understand that procreation can result in pregnancy followed by hazardous, painful childbirth, there has to be something to entice them to do it more than once.

Shlain’s insights are illuminating, but they fail to account for a key element of human development—which I have named the Age of Raquel in honor of my friend. The Age of Raquel, which spans roughly age 25-30, is a “sweet spot” in women’s development. It is characterized by physical attractiveness, confidence, mastery of one’s sexual response, and a powerful urge to find an outlet for these newfound abilities. In sharp contrast to her adolescence, a woman in the throes of the Age of Raquel is motivated. She has come to terms with her career goals, her physique, and her intellect. She is interested in sustaining relationships and emotional nourishment.

And while the concept of “dog years” (7 years to every human’s) is a widely accepted method of comparing proportional life spans of humans and canines, no similar mechanism exists to correlate men and women’s maturity levels, even though it is widely, heuristically known that a man at age 32 is in the throes of the male equivalent of the age of Raquel. In other words, a 32-year-old man is 26 in “boy years.” He is in the midst of a “sweet spot” as well—he has his career sorted out, he’s developed relationship skills, he’s finally gotten through Boy and Guy and become a Man.

And herein lies the problem Shlain doesn’t begin to address. My own completely unscientific observations suggest that while 26-year-old women devote considerable time and energy to talking and thinking about relationships; wistfully gazing at their friends’ engagement rings and made-over fiancées, their male counterparts are oblivious, avoiding commitment, Pottery Barn, and the very cafes, singles functions, and setups that Raquel doggedly pursues.

The 32-year-old males have been consumed by love and unceremonially spit back out; they are jaded, blasé, they have sworn off relationships. Biology is on their side, as is the fact that they can attract women within a 10-year age spectrum. This newfound variety is enticing. And it reinforces a romantic bottleneck: noncommittal 32-year-old men frustrating the 26-year-old women who want them.

Of course there are exceptions—there are married 26-year-olds. And there are 26-year-olds married to 30-year-olds (Raquel and Matt come to mind).
I propose that Shlain consider this topic for his next book; like many other areas of scientific inquiry, this one is certainly worthy of further study.

Posted by Dori at 10:59 AM