When it comes to relationships with extreme power imbalances – say, professional hierarchies or underage participants – there is broad consensus on what’s acceptable. But a relationship between people whose ages differ by a decade or so confuses and intrigues people endlessly.

Generally, the wider the age gap and the younger one partner is, the greater the skepticism. Older men have long been side-eyed for dating substantially younger women. The reverse – older women with younger men – also remains somewhat subversive. But the latter dynamic is increasingly celebrated – last year, the Cut covered the trend of older women seeking younger partners, and last month, the New York Times released a podcast episode titled “Older Women Are in Demand by Younger Men”.

Netflix’s recent dating show, Age of Attraction, received reactions that ranged from “interesting” to “icky”. Its contestants were singles willing to meet a significantly younger or older partner without revealing their ages upfront.

Cecilia Moreno is one of several micro-influencers who document their relationships with partners 10, 20, sometimes 30-plus years apart, posting couple selfies and updates. She believes dating shows like Age of Attraction and The Golden Bachelorette have helped to normalize the idea that older women have libidos and love lives. “It challenges people’s perception of what a 46- or 54-year-old woman looks or acts like, or what they desire,” she says. “Everybody just wants to be seen, be heard, be loved.”

I spoke to five couples who post about their age-gap relationships.

Cecilia Moreno and Steven Woolfolk, 52 and 39

A few years ago, Moreno wouldn’t have felt comfortable sharing her love life with strangers online.

The 52-year-old had been posting motivational content for women, sharing beauty secrets and anxieties about ageing, when she decided to open up about her age-gap relationship. In videos titled “My millennial hubby” and “Fear almost talked me out of it”, she explained why she married a younger man after ending a 20-year marriage.

“Talking about the age-gap relationship and some of the challenges I was able to overcome actually resonated with my community,” she says. “It helps women get over some of their own [insecurities].”

Moreno’s followers – more than 300,000 on TikTok and 12,000 on Instagram – include the casually nosy and other women in age-gap relationships seeking community or even validation. Her commenters are largely affirming (“Y’all look perfect together”) and complimentary (“What is your skin routine??”). For some couples, this kind of positive feedback helps destigmatize their age gap, making it worth the hassle to post. For others, criticism spans from mild disapproval (“ngl it’s odd sorry not sorry”) to disparagement (“Bro dating his mom”).

Moreno and her husband of seven years, Steven Woolfolk, 39, first met as co-workers at a government agency in the Washington DC metro area. Old-school attraction quickly grew into something that felt metaphysical. “Even just holding hands, touching each other, we were like, oh my God, what is this?” Within two weeks of dating, she says, “he was literally ready to marry me.”

At first, she fixated on their 13-year age gap. Dating a younger man challenged her own internalized beliefs, some of which centered around appearance. (She has gray streaks in her long, dark hair.)

“Early on, when we were dating, I was like, ‘Do you think I’m a cougar?’” she recalls with a laugh. When Woolfolk started growing out his salt-and-pepper beard, she was thrilled. “I consider myself a very logical person,” she says. “There’s this established societal norm I had in my mind.

“I had to let go of my own misperceptions around age, and trust my intuition and my gut that … this is a connection and compatibility that I probably would never find again,” she says.

Woolfolk barely registered the age difference. “I did the math, and that was the end of that thought,” he says. “When I told my family about her, I wasn’t like, ‘She’s 13 years older than me.’ Everybody was rolling with it on my side.” Conversely, Moreno says two of her family members called her impulsive.

Her main concern was their children; both she and Woolfolk have kids from previous relationships. “Obviously, as a mom, I wanted my children to embrace the relationship,” she says. “There’s a 10-year difference between my son and Steven. I was like, is that going to be weird?”

Alyssa and Mark Seremet, 32 and 61

Eight years ago, Alyssa Seremet, now 32, was working as a nanny in Miami, raising a five-year-old son, and unimpressed by the men she met on a dating site – they gave “college kid type of energy”.

“It’s really hard to even talk with men in their 30s and 40s because men are stupid,” she says plainly. When she messaged Mark, a then 53-year-old tech entrepreneur and divorced father, he initially told her she was too young. He saw their 29-year age gap as “a bridge too far”.

On their first date, Mark felt the chemistry. Afterward, he left for a two-week trip to Poland, sent Alyssa $2,000, and asked her not to see other people. She interpreted the gesture as courtship. “I guess in retrospect, it could have been love bombing,” she jokes. “But he’s still bombing me.” The pair has been married for eight years, and live in Miami with their four-year-old son, her son and three Siberian cats.

Alyssa is straightforward about her dating preferences. She’s accustomed to partners who pay for dinner and rent, and in her experience, those men tend to be older. On one of her Instagram posts about marrying an older man, she pinned the comment: “Dude gonna be dead you won’t even be 50 bro.”

A small 2025 study about wellbeing in age-gap relationships found that younger women felt more “perceived financial stability” with older men than with younger men. (The same didn’t apply to younger men dating older women.) Straight men dating women at least seven years younger reported higher overall satisfaction in the relationship than those with women at least seven years older.

“At the beginning, I cared,” says Mark, who used to see age-gap relationships as mainly transactional. “I was like, these people think I’m a creep, maybe I am a creep,” he says. “Now, we’re married. We have a kid. We have an integrated family. We love each other. I don’t care any more.” His ex-wife openly opposed the relationship, while his oldest daughter suspected that Alyssa was after his money. “She was like, ‘Dad, this woman is a complete gold digger. This is a huge mistake, and you’re getting used,’” he recalls.

The more time Alyssa spent with the family and cared for the kids, the more they warmed up to her. “I’m a genuine person, and I really do love my husband,” she says. “Eventually, people learn your character by your actions over time, and that’s what happened. They met me and had conversations, and they were like, oh, she’s not some bimbo.”

Tonya and Kemar Bonnick, 21-year gap

The 21-year age gap between Tonya and Kemar Bonnick was so controversial that it ended a 20-year friendship. (They declined to share their ages. “At the end of the day, we want people to connect with our story and not just our ages,” says Tonya. “It’s a small boundary, but it does allow us to maintain a sense of privacy and some control over our narrative.”)

The couple met in April 2015 while Tonya was on vacation in Jamaica, where Kemar worked as a tour guide. Though he wasn’t intimidated by the age difference, she was hesitant. “My initial reaction was, ‘This is not going to happen,’” she remembers.

But they exchanged numbers, and when Tonya returned to the US, they talked and video-chatted several times a day. The next month, she returned to the island and stayed with Kemar at his house. “He cooked for me, took me out, and I got to see that he was a genuine person,” she says. “For me, it was the energy and the connection,” says Kemar. Seven months later, they were married and now live together in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Tonya’s best friend at the time questioned the age difference and Kemar’s motives, even after meeting him. Within two years, the friendship fizzled. “It was like grieving a loss, for real,” says Tonya. “But in the end, this is my life.”

Three months after meeting, Kemar took Tonya to meet his mother, who was shocked at first – but they are now “inseparable”, he says. “Meeting his mom factored in my decision to move forward in the relationship,” Tonya says. “I could see where he got his kindness and manners.” Tonya’s daughter, now 30, immediately accepted Kemar. “I never really brought any men around her,” says Tonya. “She could tell that I was happy. She could see how he treated me.”

The Bonnicks shared their love story on Tamron Hall’s talkshow in 2025 and post updates on Instagram. Commenters frequently opine that Kemar used Tonya for a green card. “Kemar is a citizen now. He could’ve been gone if he wanted to,” she jokes. In one video, titled “Advice on dating a younger Jamaican man”, Tonya advises: “Ask yourself what attracted you to this younger person, and if you can realistically name things that don’t have to do with sex, follow your heart.”

Beyond scrutiny, age differences bring unique real-world dilemmas: retirement timelines, health disparities, blended families. The Bonnick’s biggest challenge is having children. Tonya says she’s had four miscarriages, and they’re hoping to have a child together one day.

Stephanie and Martin, 32 and 63

Stephanie, 32, and her husband of four years, Martin, 63, a business owner and CEO, met at a restaurant in Indian Wells, where they bonded over their mutual love of StrengthsFinder tests, which identify personality types. (The couple asked to be identified by first names only, for privacy.) They now live in Orange county, California.

Martin says his friends’ wives were “nervous” about hanging out with the couple at first. “Not only was I single, which is a threat, but I’m now in a relationship with a younger woman, and that’s a double threat,” he says. “I understand the sensitivity there. But my friends have come to love Steph and us together, and now we have really no issues at all.”

What helped normalize age-gap relationships for Stephanie was that her parents divorced, then later remarried with 15- and 17-year age gaps, respectively. Occasionally, when a stranger assumes Martin is her father, Stephanie leans into it by kissing him on the lips.

“The comment I get most is that I’m going to be a young widow,” she says. “That bothers me a lot – do you think I don’t know that or take that into consideration?” she says. Both she and Martin lost a brother in an accident when they were younger. “You don’t know what life is going to be like tomorrow,” she says. “So I’m not going to live in fear.”

Chloe Cook and Jordan Davis, 46 and 29

Most of the women I spoke to described self-consciousness about their age-gap relationships, especially early on. The men, while not immune to judgment, appeared less affected. Chloe Cook, 46, had been teaching at a Houston high school for seven years when Jordan Davis, 29, was hired as a coach there. “She caught my eye, and I wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass,” he remembers. They had lunch together and became friends.

Cook, a widowed mother of three, dismissed the idea of dating a younger man, let alone a co-worker. During a ceremony at the start of the school year, Davis messaged her about her outfit. “I had on these long tube socks, so he texted me, ‘You got them long-ass socks on.’ And I just died laughing,” she remembers. “I had dated people after my husband died, but Jordan was the first person who legit made me laugh and feel whole again.”

She and Davis started dating in August 2024. By Thanksgiving, she was meeting his family. “I was like, ‘Oh Lord, what are they gonna say?’” she says. “That whole night, nobody asked me my age … Everybody was so nice and welcoming.” Since they both entered the relationship with children, there was little urgency to have more, though Cook says she wants one.

Cook is now a well-known celebrity wedding and event curator in Houston. Around the time she and Davis started dating, casting producers were seeking female entrepreneurs for the OWN reality series Heart & Hustle: Houston. She joined the show, and he eventually ended up in some scenes.

Cook was hesitant to make their relationship public. But once the show aired, she leaned into it. She launched their shared Instagram account @17between_ (a reference to their age gap) last July. “People in my city were sending me hate mail saying, ‘Why are you doing this? You just lost your husband.’ And I’m like, he’s been dead five years, you know. At some point, I’ve got to move on,” says Cook. “I had to realize their comments don’t define my future, my happiness. We deleted that stuff and blocked people, and now we’ve found our tribe.”

Still, she’s seen many social media comments calling her a sugar mama. “Actually, he was carrying me because I quit my job,” she clarifies. “I knew he wasn’t here for my money because I had nothing to give.” Cook adds, “A lot of people were saying that I just wanted sex from him. Like, ‘Oh, he must be busting your back out.’ The sex is great, don’t get me wrong. But we really connected on a friendship level first.”

Years ago, Cook would have been reluctant to speak openly about dating a younger guy. “After experiencing this”, she says. “I’m like, whoever brings you joy, whoever brings you happiness.” Davis filled a void. “I was empty, I was broken, and he put me back together. He didn’t know he was putting me back together, but he was.”

• Clover Hope is a Brooklyn-based writer.