AITA for feeling “icky” about the age gap in my own marriage now that I’m older?

I married a man much older than me when I was 25, and now at 27 I’m realizing I might not have made the same choice if we met today—and I can’t shake the resentment I feel about him pursuing me when I was so young.

I met my husband when I had just turned 22. I didn’t realize at the time that he was in his late 30s—he genuinely looked and acted like someone in their late twenties. When he showed up offering stability and security, I leapt at it. I knew the age gap was big, but I had a rebellious mindset and thought it was attractive in a dangerous kind of way. Looking back, I blame Lana Del Rey and the lack of people in my life willing to say, “Hey, maybe this isn’t great.” We married when I was 25. On paper, everything has been fine: we’re aligned on most things, we live comfortably as DINKs, we’ve built a solid foundation, and there’s affection. But sometimes it feels like he’s more of a roommate—or even a parental figure—than a partner. Our sex life is boring. And, honestly, I know that divorcing him would destabilize both of us financially. I also don’t want to re-enter the dating scene.

I love my husband deeply, but now that I’ve grown up, I can feel myself outgrowing the version of me who thought dating a much older man made sense—and I can’t ignore the resentment that he ever pursued me at 22.

The truth is that, even though our marriage feels 80% good, I have grown a lot in the last few years. Now that my frontal lobe is fully developed, I’m realizing I’ve outgrown the version of myself who thought he made sense as a partner. I feel resentment toward him for pursuing someone so young. Even if I was “mature for my age,” I can’t imagine dating a 22-year-old at 27, much less at his age then. I would not pick him today if we met for the first time. That’s hard to admit. And since marrying, I’ve noticed how he tends to make most of the decisions and how easy it was for me to let him do that at 22—but not now. The generational differences are louder lately, especially in intimacy, daily dynamics, and personal growth.

"I couldn't even imagine dating a 22-year-old now and I'm only 27."

After posting, I got a lot of perspectives I didn’t expect. I was writing late at night when the feelings hit hard, but people raised thoughtful points about long-term compatibility, generational gaps, and how both partners can evolve in ways no one anticipates. He wasn’t wealthy when we met—we built our stability together. We’ve both changed in huge ways, partly because we finally had space and safety to grow past our trauma. I also clarified that the “ick” isn’t because of social media; it’s coming from my own maturing lens on relationships. I’ve decided to talk to him about these feelings, even though I used to avoid the subject because I felt like I forfeited the right to care when I married him at 25 after insisting the age difference didn’t matter.

"I’m growing out of this container of him making all the decisions."

I do love him deeply, and our marriage isn’t bad—it’s just complicated by the realization that I’m not the same person who entered it. And maybe he isn’t either. I don’t know exactly what the outcome will be, but I’m trying to understand myself better before deciding what comes next.

🏠 The Aftermath

Right now, nothing explosive has happened between us. He doesn’t even know about this yet. The aftermath is more internal: a slow unraveling of old assumptions and the discomfort of realizing how much perspective changes with age.

The biggest shift is simply that I’m questioning the foundation of a relationship that once felt solid—wondering whether my early twenties self ever truly had the clarity to choose a partner with such a large age gap.

At the same time, we’ve both changed through the relationship. We influenced each other, healed independently, and matured. The tension now is between who we’ve become as individuals and the dynamic we built when I was much younger.

"Growth isn’t always aligned, even when love is still present."

I’m preparing to talk to him openly, hoping to rebuild the relationship in a way that reflects who I am now—not who I was when we met. Whether that leads us closer or further apart remains to be seen.

💭 Emotional Reflection

This isn’t about blame—it’s about hindsight. When people say the brain finishes developing in the mid-twenties, this is the kind of emotional recalibration they’re talking about. I’m viewing the relationship through a lens I didn’t have before.

Could I work through the feelings? Possibly. Many couples navigate shifts in identity and maturity. But it requires honesty, vulnerability, and a willingness on both sides to reevaluate a dynamic built on a young–older pairing.

The hard part is holding two truths: I love him, and I also might not have chosen him today. Both feelings coexist, and neither is wrong—they’re simply part of growing up.

Here’s how the community might see it:

“It’s normal to reassess relationships as you mature—especially ones formed during a big age-gap stage.”

“Your feelings aren’t an attack on him; they’re a reflection of your personal growth.”

“Being honest with yourself is the first step—being honest with him is the next.”

Most reactions acknowledge that age-gap relationships carry complexities that often surface later, and that reevaluating them isn’t cruelty—it’s self-awareness.

🌱 Final Thoughts

Relationships that start young and uneven can evolve into something strong—or strained—as both partners change. It’s okay to confront those shifts, even when love still exists.

What matters most now is honest communication and figuring out whether the marriage can grow with you, not just around who you were at 22.

What do you think?
Have you ever outgrown a relationship that once felt perfect? Share your thoughts below 👇