I’ve recently had the chance to speak with several over-60-year-old men, and women, about relationships, being single, loneliness.
Well, okay, some of these were dates. Some were laughter over dates. Some were thought provoking, others broke my heart.
We all handle being alone differently. Many of the women I know who are single seem happy to stay that way, at least for now. They are tired from years of sharing their lives with children or family members and are still craving the gentle solitude of a solo cup of coffee in the morning, or a cuddle with their pet in the evening, when they are weary and don’t want to talk.
Or they want to take off on women-only trips around the world where they can just go and be without the need to perform.
But they are a self-selected group. I hang out with independent (some may say too independent) women.
I also know so many women whose lives are destroyed by solitude, who must have companionship, preferably male and human, to survive. These women are shattered by divorce and find it intolerable to live alone. They, too, break my heart. No one should be alone who doesn’t want to be…but on the other hand…part of being a good partner is learning to be good on your own, I think.
For me, I may more be one of those independent women who prefers to live in MY space, to invite friends to visit, but never ever to stay. Not to say I don’t like the visitors…
I know a few independent men, too. But they seem smaller in number, perhaps because they are out in the woods somewhere living in a cabin and so I don’t meet them often.
Most of the older men I meet are painfully lonely. It breaks my heart. I seriously think men find it harder to be alone, struggle more with their sense of self-worth than women do, on average. They seem driven more by the need to make love/have sex/fornicate than women let show. They wake in the mornings dreaming of sex, they go to bed thinking of it. Without it, a huge part of their inner selves seems to wither.
So what does an aging man have to offer a woman? They don’t seem to know. Instead of seeking companionship, shared interests, etc, they look for younger and younger partners, hoping their flagging sexuality can be enlivened by a more active lass. They tell themselves lies about their fitness, desirability, general selves. And so they doom themselves to failure and loneliness. They aren’t used to hanging out with guys, most of them, so they end up isolated. It’s terribly sad.
Oh, and they judge women, by scores they don’t apply to themselves. In happy delusion,
they seek tens, when they themselves are 4s or 5s, or on a good day, a 7. I had a 400 pound man tell me that he didn’t think I looked THAT overweight (in tones of condescension). I’ve had people suffering bankruptcy tell me I was getting a good catch who would look after me. Riiiiiiiiight.
They don’t think about evolving themselves to fit the needs of women in their age group, to read, to learn, to cook, to be responsible, to be independent and self-supporting. To have let go of anger. That is unutterably sexy. Women who have spent years looking after people don’t want to meet someone who, on first acquaintance, obviously needs looking after. And so many men have interesting lives, if only they would share them in a non-self-aggrandizing way.
So women are stuck in a bind if we want companionship. No one our age wants us – men seem to want women ten to twenty years younger. The ones twenty years older than us want us, but they are often looking for someone of their porn dreams, someone to care for them, someone to adore them, as they were adored when they were young and fit and had their future ahead of them. Oh, and someone who wants to make love all the time.(One chubby fellow I dated showed me his sticky little book of sexual positions, many of them life-endangering. When I laughed out loud at one contortion, he said, sure, we could do that. No, I said. I’m not standing on my head for anyone. Sorry. That was that. I washed my hands and left.)
Or they want a nurse, preferably one who would wear that sexy nurse outfit while massaging their feet.
Dating is perilous in this age group. If you meet and decide he isn’t for you, and you try to let him down gently, you run the risk of being stalked, as you try to peel his tentacles off of you.
If you are clear with them, you are a bitch who only values money. (or healthy teeth or someone who lives responsibly or someone who doesn’t spend every spare minute looking at porn on a 60 inch tv set). They get furious at you.
Either way, dating feels more dangerous than it should.
Other men are so sad and hopeful you want to be kind, you err in kindness, you give mixed messages to try not to hurt, you hope they will break up with you so you don’t have to deal the crushing blow. They, understandably, get confused, and you end up hurting them anyway. Or vice versa.
So for those women who want male companionship with a little naughty icing, they have a challenge.
But thank heavens, we seem better suited to solitude. And as for me, male friends rock. More than that, I dunno.
Maybe that’s why so many of us are into crafting with our friends.
Off to needle felting I go….
Good one. It’s even hard over 50! This past week I attended the funeral for an older relative who seemed to give up on his health. As the story goes, he was a widower who wanted to date and maybe marry again. Apparently, one woman’s standards included that he practice better hygiene. He chose not to. I took that as a sad lesson in that we may need to make some changes and compromises if we want companionship or new relationships. I think I too have gotten to the age or stage where I value my independence, solitude more plus enjoy the times I can gather with crafty friends. I hope they will tell me if I start to smell ripe tho ;-^
Yes, I think there is a certain amount of denial in all this. I know I, for one, am resistant to change at this point. If someone were to tell me I needed to shave my legs more often I might just toss them off a pier. Still, I think basic cleanliness is something people should just DO. 😉
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And there are some things I refuse to shave snymore!
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Yikes. As my 69th birthday approaches,it appears that I may be part of a pathetic demographic. I don’t see any of myself in that profile, but, perhaps I am delusional.
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