Sibila Freijo: Smart Women Prefer Younger Men

Sibila Freijo argues that women are attracted to younger men

Galician writer Sibila Freijo (1972) is clear about it: "Smart women like younger men; we’re not blind." She made these comments in an interview for the second edition of her book Ponme otro vino que aún te veo adefesio (Espasa), an essay on love blending biographical chronicle and humor. Her remarks coincided with headlines surrounding the relationship between Aitana Sánchez-Gijón and Maxi Iglesias. Freijo sees no news there: she is annoyed that the actress is called a "boss" for having "landed" a young man. "I think he’s the lucky one," she concludes.

The interview, published in La Voz and written by Javier Becerra, includes statements that have sparked heated debate: from alcohol being the "lubricant of seduction" to sensual exclusivity for twenty years being "almost like believing in God." Freijo advocates for bravery—"between yes and no, always yes"—confesses her experience at a swinger club, and maintains that fidelity is an outdated concept. The material has generated a discussion intersecting biology, the economics of desire, and hostile opinions.

What exactly does Freijo say about age and attractiveness?

The core of the controversy lies in one phrase: "I prefer flesh close to the bone, body hair, and all that, not sagging bellies." Freijo is not talking about formal relationships, but about desire and flings. In fact, in the same interview, she defends open relationships and recounts her experience at a swingers' club, describing it "like a farce" so that the reader's last reaction is arousal.

Her thesis on age is that "one is the age of the person one sleeps with." With a younger man, she says, one recovers "lost youth, enthusiasm"; with an older one, "sometimes you want to die." She adds a nuance: she recommends women not declare themselves feminists around men because "it scares them." Yet she later confesses that she is attracted to "a feminist guy," one who leaves a meeting to care for his son or takes paternity leave.

The debate: who pays and who profits?

An economic reading dominates the debate. Some argue that attraction has different prices depending on life stage: female "prime" is between 18 and 30, while a well-groomed mature man accumulates "masculinity, experience, and financial stability." This school of thought concludes that cases of mature women with younger men respond to a "bubble" of easy access, not a structural change in the dating market.

The most repeated counterargument is that money and fame invert the equation. Aitana Sánchez-Gijón would not be the exception proving the rule, but evidence that attractiveness is bought with other currencies: media exposure, contacts, housing, and gifts. Some compare these links to the twenty-something girlfriends of tycoons, while others respond that the parallelism is deceptive, because those women do not choose an old man out of taste but out of interest.

Menopause as an argument and shame as a brake

The harshest flank of the debate attacks biological viability. Some claim that after a certain age, women stop lubricating, lose desire, and cannot compete with a woman in her twenties. This line holds that no young man considers something serious with an older woman and that the relationship only survives in private, because walking with her "is embarrassing." Against this, others recall that published images are retouched and that the unmade-up mirror shows another reality.

The most cited response reverses the blush: if a young actor with access to models chooses an older woman, the merit is hers and the ridicule is his. Another current points out the asymmetry of judgment: if a man states what he likes, "he is labeled everything"; if a woman says it, it is celebrated as empowerment. The word "dandruff" used by Freijo to describe this double standard appears several times in the exchange.

Feminism that scares and fidelity that expires

Freijo dedicates a chapter to "deconstructed" men and another to infidelity. Her thesis: social networks hide "more mental load" than a consequence-free encounter, and sensual exclusivity for two decades is a nearly religious belief. "Why don't we start understanding fidelity differently?" she asks. The proposal of open couples appears in the book as an option, not an obligation.

In the debate, this part is read with skepticism. It is argued that those who advocate openness usually do so from a position of advantage and that the "pot belly bubble"—an expression used with sarcasm—does not hold up as age advances. Others defend that monogamy is not a divine imposition but a revisable contract, and that criticism of Freijo hides a problem of male self-esteem.

What will happen with the book and the debate?

The essay is already in its second edition, and the author defines it as "anti-self-help": when it stops being cheeky, she says, it hides real reflections. The noise generated by the interview will likely boost sales, because morbid curiosity sells more than prose. The discussion on age, desire, and the price of companionship will remain open as long as the dating market continues to function with different rules for men and women. And Freijo, at 54, will continue saying what she thinks. With two glasses of wine, if necessary.