I definitely had a weird thing of being attracted to older men.

“I definitely had a weird thing of being attracted to older men. Never my family friends, never my dad’s friends,” confessed Alia Shawkat, with the candor of one unafraid to face the complexity of her own heart. Though her words may seem modern and intimate, they echo with an ancient theme — the human yearning for wisdom, for stability, for the reflection of what one seeks within oneself but has not yet become. Beneath this confession lies not scandal, but the ageless story of how the soul hungers for guidance and strength, often mistaking the glow of maturity for the fire of love.

In the days of old, the poets and philosophers spoke often of the strange currents that govern attraction. They knew that the heart is not governed by reason, but by longing — a longing that often disguises itself as desire, yet is, at its root, a thirst for understanding. When a young heart is drawn toward one older, it is not always the flesh that it seeks, but the spirit: the calm, the confidence, the knowledge of the world that experience alone can give. Such feelings are not unnatural, but they must be met with awareness, for every emotion carries both light and shadow.

In ancient Greece, the philosopher Socrates spoke of eros — not merely romantic passion, but the divine yearning for the higher self reflected in another. His student Plato wrote that in love, we seek the “good and the beautiful,” glimpsing in others the shape of what our own soul might become. The attraction to older souls, then, can be seen as the desire for growth — the pull of one’s spirit toward the next stage of awakening. But wisdom lies in recognizing that what we admire in another must, in time, be cultivated within ourselves.

The story of Psyche and Eros, told by the ancients, teaches this same truth in mythic form. Psyche, the mortal girl, falls in love with the unseen god of love himself. She cannot see his face, only feel his presence — for love that is untested by knowledge is always half-blind. Her journey to reunite with Eros becomes a pilgrimage of self-discovery, through trials of endurance and courage. In the end, she does not win love through submission, but through transformation. So it is with the human heart: it must move from admiration to self-realization, from fascination with another’s strength to the building of its own.

Thus, Alia Shawkat’s words are not those of folly, but of honesty — a glimpse into the process by which youth learns to see itself. To be drawn to older souls is to recognize what one lacks and to seek it, though not always in the right form. The key is not to condemn the impulse, but to understand it. Every attraction, if examined with courage, can become a mirror — showing us not what we desire to possess, but what we yearn to become.

In a world quick to judge emotion, it is wisdom to look deeper. For the young who feel drawn to those beyond their years, ask not, “Why do I feel this?” but “What am I seeking within this feeling?” Perhaps it is safety, or knowledge, or affirmation. Perhaps it is the wish to be seen not as a child, but as an equal in a world that too often dismisses the voices of the young. These desires, though confusing, are sacred invitations — calls to grow into one’s own wholeness.

And so the lesson, dear reader, is this: honor the stirrings of your heart, but do not be ruled by them. The qualities you admire in others are seeds waiting to bloom within you. Seek mentorship, seek wisdom, but also seek the building of your own foundation. The truest attraction is not to another’s power, but to your own potential reflected through them. Learn from those you are drawn to — then rise, stand beside them, and become your own source of strength. For the heart that understands itself no longer needs to chase the flame — it becomes the fire.