Tag Archives: stalking

Single and over sixty: solitude or sorrow?


solitudeI’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.

north-coast-nosh-capper-coffee

coffee. peace. quiet.

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…

axe-man_zpsmfukqwlb

not a real man in a cabin, though the axe might be real.

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,

judge_weird

One of my recent dates, examining my height

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.)

518ldvbqs-l-_ul1200_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.

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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. js23831350

Off to needle felting I go….

 

 

Stalking through the world


Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake
I’ll be watching you

Love and all its oddness has surrounded me these past few months. What is that love thing all about, anyway? I seem to recollect it being something about an easiness with one another, a caring, a wish to share things, perhaps a spot of lust, the need to have a person in your life. I understand it can be pleasant, affirming, something to desire.

And heaven knows I love my kids, my friends, even my naughty dog and parrotlet. But all those loves are different, easier, than romantic love. That romantic love thing still eludes me. I’ve been mistaken before about love, and apparently have poor judgement about it. Well, one can’t be perfect at everything and as I haven’t yet found anything to be perfect at, I shouldn’t expect perfection or anything approximating it in this realm, either.

But when does it slip into madness?  Is it when you are feeling lonely and so cling to someone you know is inappropriate because they are the port in the storm of daily life? Is it when you assume eternity of attachment when nothing has been determined? Is it when you plan your life around a chimera, assuming everything about the object of your affection will be there to support you?

Is it when you follow someone, making irrational choices, planning on taking over their life to affirm your own? Or is it when they reasonably say no and you are totally perplexed by the turn of events?

O can’t you see
You belong to me
How my poor heart aches with every step you take

It’s a mystery to me. All I know is that I’ve been burned once again, again by trying to be nice and pleasant.  And suffered stalking of Olympian proportions. It was tempting to be loved like that, until I realized I was being smothered gently, that my life was being wanted, taken, in the softest, gentlest, seemingly nicest way. Breathing became difficult.

Ah well, live and learn. No more ms. nice girl. And bye-bye, gentle air-seeking comforter. Latch onto someone else, please. I am stepping out, back into the breeze, breathing deeply and reestablishing my self.

The Police take on this issue….of course, maybe being stalked by Sting would overall be okay….mmmm.