by Meta Smith

I hate the word “cougar.” I don’t think it’s cute or endearing; I find it offensive. I believe that it objectifies women, making them seem dangerous and predatory when all they’ve really done is decided to turn the tables and do what men have been doing since the dawn of time: date younger people. We call men who date younger women “sugar daddies” at the worst, and that name sounds like a fun time filled with candy, but for the most part we usually just call men who date younger women, men. Why can’t women who do the same be granted the same consideration? Why do women who appreciate a well-built young man have to be animals? What’s with all the name calling?

I’m convinced that the term “cougar” was coined on the nightclub scene – probably in L.A. or South Beach – and definitely by a man. I can totally visualize it; after a few glasses of liquid courage some delusional, out-of-shape, balding man that still sees himself as the college Casanova he once was makes the foolhardy decision to veer out of his designated lane of soccer moms in bad jeans to approach an alluring woman with the face of an angel, the body of a stripper, and the grace and confidence of a queen. He makes a little small talk, buys her a couple of drinks and to his delight he finds that he and his quarry have a lot in common, including their age, somewhere in their early to mid 40s. Casanova thinks he’s got a shot. After all, he’s a great catch, plus he made her laugh and she’s flirting with him…isn’t she? But when it comes time to seal the deal, Casanova is in for a shock. The woman he’s set his sights on rejects him in favor of the studly, six-pack carrying, hottie bartender who looks young enough to be her son. Casanova, who now feels like Ass-anova, probably pouted and thought bitterly to himself, “What makes her think she’s so hot? She ought to be ashamed of herself throwing herself at that young guy. She’s no spring chicken. She’s just a cougar, out for blood.”

Welcome to the real world Casanova. The women of the dirty 30 and frisky 40 clubs make their own rules. Women have been traded in for newer models long before it became trendy and acceptable for them to do the same, and until recently they had to swallow their pride and accept that their expiration date had come and gone. Thank God times have changed! So while I hate the word cougar, I don’t hate what so-called cougars do. In fact, I love what they stand for: freedom, independence and telling the system to kiss their firm, well-toned backsides. I say, go on girl, get your groove back! In fact, I hope your groove never left.

Have fun and be safe. Peace & Positive Vibes,

Meta