I’m thinking about a recent conversation with a friend. She’s found herself in a fantastic relationship which is meeting all her needs inside and outside the bedroom. Jealousy wells up in me even as I celebrate her happiness.
It’s been a long time I’ve been looking for a friend who is also my lover. The more rejection I receive, the more I am tempted to give up the search and just fulfill my physical needs. The message that I’m fuckable, just not dateable is reinforced every time someone contacts me with a cheap pick up line.
I’ve had good conversations turn sexual so quickly that I don’t believe there’s a man out there that wants anything more from me. And keep in mind that my profiles specifically say I’m not looking for sex!
So what is it about me that makes men not see my value beyond the bedroom? I’m confident which is supposed to be sexy. I’m kind which should be inviting. I listen. I care. I give myself to my career and my community. Honestly, why am I not winning men over?
I’m middle age. I’m getting grey hair. My body is fighting my efforts to become more attractive. The days if me being able to be fuckable are quickly slipping away. If I don’t figure out the magic of dating soon I might die alone.
Am I asking too much to have a man romance me? Tell me I’m beautiful after he gets to know me? I promise I can make all his sexual desires come to life if only he takes the time to know me as a person first.
So, I’ve come to be vocal about taking on blind dates and any match ups people want to set me up on. Yet the calendar is still wide open. Even friends won’t risk suggesting men for me to date. Ugghh. What’s the point sometimes?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m still working in me, exploring my hobbies, working on being healthier – but would it be so wrong to have a partner to join me along the war?
When your face is numb, you are relaxed and all is the most entertaining thing in the world. It’s a wonderful feeling of release. You stop fighting the world and are in the moment. It feels great.
I’m reflecting on my desire I be beautiful. I’m not. Not in the traditional sense. I crave to be desired. Wanted. Craved. What I wouldn’t give to be wrapped in someone’s arms and told how beautiful I am.
Yet, when I’m approached by men online who start out with “hey beautiful” I don’t respond. It’s a dichotomy. Hypocrisy really. I don’t want the first thing out of a mans mouth to be some weathered pick up line. I want to connect on a deeper level before I can believe they’re truly attracted to me. I want to be admired for who I am before what I look like.
Is it that I can’t be satisfied or I don’t know exactly what I need?
All I know is I wish I had a man right now holding g me and telling me how beautiful I am. But maybe it’s the alcohol talking.
At first I looked at this as just the question it was asking. Am I making the right choices kind of probe. But then I thought about it further. About how women view sex as something deeper and wondered if men do the same.
Too philosophical for Monday, but it has me thinking – both literal and abstractly.
I was feeling antsy today. I had to hang around the house waiting for a repair guy who was over a half hour late. I cut all my fruit and vegetables for the week, did the laundry – even folded most of it and cleaned up the kitchen.
When he finally finished, I was ready to get out of the house. I decided to go thrift shopping and a few things I need for an upcoming trip when I decided to take an impromptu walk in nature.
I went to a little place that wasn’t too far from the road and had a stream running down. It was peaceful, but secure. Since i haven’t been overly active in the last few years, I didn’t want to take on too much. I made myself a deal that I’d go only as far as I felt comfortable.
It was fun and rewarding. I’d go up the trail, stop to take photography, and decide if I wanted to go further. I went through brush, narrow trails, and up steep inclines. There were so many forks in the road that I had to decide which way to go. More often than not I stayed on the main path. The last thing I needed was to get lost! There was a point where the brush was high and the branches low which I decided was a sign to end the adventure.
I was feeling pretty proud of myself as I drove home. Until I got out of the car. How one’s muscles could get that soar in a 20 minute span is unknown. I felt all of my middle age come crashing down on me! Uggh! A hot bath is in my near future!
As I sit here watching Orange is the New Black ( a friend recommended I give it a try), I realize that this is the first Saturday in a long time that I haven’t wanted to just take a nap and be lazy. Maybe this lifestyle change is making a difference after all. Of course, there’s still another day in the weekend. Hahah!
I’m feeling a bit frustrated. Sexually frustrated. Masturbation used to be so easy and now I struggle. Is it because I’m getting older? No. It’s because I put to much reality into my fantasies!
I’m going to be getting away soon and one of my longest standing fantasies is to be picked up in a bar, taken to my hotel room and ravished. Actually the location often changes – alley, car, park, closets, homes, etc.
I want to place an ad, meet up with someone to plan the details and then live out the fantasy – finally! But in my mind I keep coming up with things that get in the way. Like the people I will be with. They won’t let me leave with some stranger. They’ll be looking out for my best interest. Then how do I sneak him into the room? What if he is a serial killer. What if he doesn’t leave? What if he does leave?
Then I think about the ravishing. From the flirtation in the bar with the sexy whispers in my ear to the sexy talk in the act. I want someone to tell me I’m beautiful and sexy – and mean it! Then my mind makes him tell me he loves me. No stranger would say it and mean that.
Then I begin to imagine this while scenario with co-workers, people who know me and already have a basis of commeraderie. But then how do I get them past the people I’ll be with? How does someone familiar go unnoticed?
And all this analysis takes away the desire and I’m left a sweaty, unsatisfied mess. Grrr! How do you block out life to live in fantasy??
My son is so wise when he doesn’t even know he’s wise. Once while we were driving a different way to a restaurant, I took a turn that I thought was wrong. I said in a slightly annoyed voice ‘oh man, I’m lost again.” only to find out the road was right and we ended up where we needed to be. He tells me, “mom, I think you have a tendency to think you’re lost simply because the road ahead curves and you can’t see the place you’re going.” Profound, right?! So often do I think I’m lost in life when I just can’t see the expected outcome.
Yesterday he told me he thinks that the world stays the same even as time goes by.While he was thinking of the issues of equality we’re dealing with in today’s society, I thought about how true that is m my life. As I look back over the past five years since I decided to divorce the ex, it seems that there’s really no difference except having to live off one income.
In 2009 I started a weight loss plan because I was unhappy with where my life was and wanted to make improvements. I changed my eating habits and went to the gym 5-6 days a week. I began to be more attentive to my husband’s sexual needs and tried to be less confrontational about the issues we had in our marriage. I was making attempts at change while he continued the same pattern of abuse. I was helpless against him.
Today I spoke with a friend who is going through a similar lifestyle change and is having great success. She told me that she is learning to replace exercise for an outlet for her emotions instead of eating her emotions. She’s at the gym over an hour a day. I envied her ability to stick with it even though she, like me, isn’t a fan of exercise.
This afternoon I was feeling sorry for myself. The constant harassment from the ex takes it’s toll even if I don’t respond to his insanity. I wanted to get outside for some vigorous walking, but the temperatures were simply too hot for me. I sat alone in a messy apartment wondering why I had even divorced in the first place if nothing in my life really changed.
That’s when I decided to get a day pass to the gym I once belonged to and put some effort into working out the sadness. I have to admit it is a completely different workout than a walk outside or even yoga at home. I sweat like there was no one looking. Drenched. I did the weight machines and noticed I can use more weight than I thought. For 60 minutes it was me and Mika. That’s it. Nothing else. And it felt great. I was on an endorphin high and feeling pretty good about myself.
Then that thought, the one that keeps creeping in, came screaming back. What’s the point? If nothing really changes, why do I fight it so much? I know I can count on at least 5 crazy messages from the ex a week – more if I try to put any reason to him. I still can’t seem to put a savings plan together, make the scale drop in numbers, or have anyone waiting for me when I return.
Maybe it was the cathartic workout, but I began to cry crocodile tears. Heavy sobs as I drove home. What’s the point?
I came home and did some tidying, but not all. I decided to eat dinner at 4:45 because I was famished. I watched Romancing the Stone and Jewel of the Nile and enjoyed a glass of wine. No one could tell me what wasn’t getting done or that things weren’t in the proper order. No one was thinking I had suddenly turned 70 when I plated my meal before any reasonable person would normally eat. I threw out clothes that don’t fit or make me feel bad about myself because no one is here to guilt me into keeping them. And a friend asked if I could meet for dinner tomorrow – which I can because no one is here to tell me to work on other things!
I guess this holiday weekend I learned a bit about independence. It may not be obvious or move at a rapid pace, but there’s a lot to be said to taking your own road to your destination. Even if most of the time I think I’m lost.
I deleted yesterday’s post because I don’t want to give the ex any more power over me than he already has. I had a fantastic day and he doesn’t get to ruin it!
Last night more strange dreams came to visit me. This time it featured Steve. In my dream my niece was my daughter. We were in a store and she shot out of the door. Her brother went after her, but she was gone. My entire family arrived to search for her. In the corner of the room was Steve. He didn’t interfere, but supported the search efforts. I kept looking to him, but never interacted with him. I remember feeling a strong longing to connect, but there wasn’t anything more than him being there and my feeling very secure in knowing he was there.
It ended with Howie Mandell going through my bras. A random and disconnected piece of my dream. He shuffled through them and I got excited by all the different colors and styles, like I hadn’t seen them in years. So bizarre.
Today between running errands and doing laundry, I pursued some lingerie shops wishing I had someone to show off for, someone to be sexy for. I have been searching through CL more and more because my fortitude for searching for a healthy relationship is waning. I still haven’t found anyone interesting enough to respond to. I know it’s because I want someone who knows me, someone who has some respect for me before jumping in the sack.
In my rant last night I wrote about being single still. Five years has passed since the separation and ultimate divorce and here I am trying to figure out the dating scene with Mr. Fuckface has moved on to happy ever after. I need to know why. What’s wrong with me? I wish I knew what I had to change or what I needed to do in order to find the love I desire. Hours of writing will probably never get me the answers I need though.
So, in the meantime, here’s some fun things I’ve been shopping for.