Deal daughter dating older man

Recently a client of mine who is 17, started dating a 23 year old man, and while the age difference isn’t drastic, one has to think, what would a 23 year old man who could date anyone 18 and up, want with a 17 year old high school student? Of course they had a lot of that, often unprotected, but luckily she never got pregnant although she hasn’t gotten tested for any sexually transmitted diseases.

She was the one who things happened to, the starting point of every story. He, in turn, went to find my friend and her boyfriend, who were none too pleased at having to leave so soon after we got there.I cant change whats already happened; I just want to find the right way to deal with it and move on. Shes always had her head on straight, I dont think for a second she would allow anyone to pressure her into anything she didnt want to do, and Ive always believed she is WAY more sensible than I was at that age. He also said that he would do anything he could possibly do to show that he really cares for her. He has refused many times to even meet the Guy when he thought they were just friends, and now has labeled Guy a sick pervert.I dont think hes some sicko perv, but I AM uncomfortable with the age difference.There was something especially cool about being friends with them. "I don't want you hanging around with someone that much older than you.""Mom." I'm sure I rolled my eyes. ""So, no normal 20 year old wants to hang out with someone who is 15. Stay away from him."This was the sort of thing that always led to my leaving the room in a teary huff, maintaining loudly that she Just Didn't Understand. One Saturday, the guys planned a picnic in a nearby forest park. We had gotten in the habit of him driving me home, and my suddenly wanting to make different arrangements seemed to inconvenience everyone.We were still at an age where our parents insisted on treating us like children. Once again, she was treating me like a child, someone unable to make her own decisions. It didn't seem like such a big deal, as my best friend was doing nothing sneaking around to be with her boyfriend. Suddenly, I wasn't that scared, invisible girl anymore, watching from the sidelines. I remember it was a gorgeous fall day, crisp and cool, and the first time I'd had Brie cheese and red wine. Even worse, I couldn't say why I didn't want to go with him.So the last few weeks, I notice her texting and talking on the phone to Guy more and more. She and I have discussed sex, safe sex, responsibility and consequences on numerous occasions, and she has confided in me about some of her friends activities; some that she disagrees with.I start to question her on the nature of their relationship. On that note, I feel she is comfortable talking and being open with me." Puke.) But mostly, it's the fact that he's your first.Not necessarily just sexually, but myriad other ways, too: The first guy you watch with, the guy who buys you a copy of Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of The Moon," the first one in the passenger's seat as soon as you get your learner's permit...How wonderful it felt to have an "adult" who valued our opinion; thought we were not just cute but interesting. I was wearing a Bundeswehr tank top I'd gotten at an Army supply store and faded jeans, a thrift shop crucifix around my neck. But as we sat there together in the sunshine, the wine buzzing my head, I suddenly felt … All I had was my instinct and discomfort — a bad gut feeling. When I write novels, there is always a clear trajectory: the beginning, middle, climax, and end.My best friend was 14 when she fell in love with a 21 year old. My friend's older boyfriend was close with a guy I'll call T. My mother, spying him from the front window, asked me how old he was."I don't know," I said. After awhile, my friend and her boyfriend disappeared, leaving T. With real life, however, and memory especially, it is harder to keep things so neat and organized. In the first, I snuck out of the house with a guy friend who lived down the street. My friend came back, we went home and I slid back into my bed. The second incident I remember happened when he was giving me a ride home.