I can post from a slightly different but hopefully relevant perspective, about a May-December romance of many years ago that fizzled and that I can now examine with dispassionate hindsight.
When I was 17 I started dating a 27-year-old guy, to the consternation of just about everyone, including me. When he took me to parties with his friends, I spent the evenings blushing and mortified because I realized how ridiculous we must look.
Anyway, we were together fairly seriously for 3 or 4 years, then broke up for reasons that I suppose were tangentially related to the age difference (he was ready to settle down, and resented the time I was spending on college extracurricular activities).
That was over 30 years ago, and in hindsight I think that if we could have made it through the rough patch that broke us up, we would have had a solid and happy marriage.
However, I do wonder if the age difference would be rearing its ugly head again as he forged ahead of me into old age. At 52, I’m hanging on for dear life to my physical fitness and planning on what they like to call “active senior” retirement someday, with tons of hiking, swimming, running, etc. for as long as I possible can. My husband is only 2 years older than me, so we face similar challenges in terms of aging, staying fit, and setting goals for what we hope to accomplish athletically.
I think I’d have a hard time being married to someone who couldn’t keep up physically. Of course, one hopes that love conquers all (certainly either I or my husband could become physically incapacitated for some reason, and I’d like to think our love would survive quite nicely). So I’d probably make my peace with being married to someone less physically able than I am due to being older.
But I have a sneaking sense that sometimes I’d regret it.