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History, Silly Me

May 20, 2025 by

Some things I know are irrelevant and meaningless, but may make you laugh.

  1. Rain is not a hazard; driving with your hazard lights on in the rain makes you look stupid; just sayin’.
  2. Love is real, and really difficult.
  3. The day-to-day is much more complicated than it looks from the outside.
  4. We were not meant to live without partnership, friendship, or human touch. We have convinced ourselves otherwise.
  5. Yes, we all have preferences, and the pool is much bigger when we are young.

The above is not everything I know; it is simply a silly list of ‘things’ that on the surface feel connected to why I continue to sleep alone every single night.

I have spent the past couple of years attempting to find Mr. Right, because I believed somewhere in the world he had to exist. I realized I spent too much time alone and was weary of trying to do it all alone. After putting myself out in the dating pool, several attempts at first, second, and third dates, and even a couple of short and abysmal failed relationships, I have realized I will probably have to accept I am past my expiration date.

I am sad about this, but perhaps not surprised. Some of the things I have heard from some of these so called mature (e.g. grown assed men) are:

  • To old
    • Wait, aren’t we the same age?
  • To flawed
    • This was a body-shaming comment, specifically, I am not a Barbie doll, I don’t wear make-up, dye my hair, or any of the other things that would make me socially acceptable.
  • To opinionated
    • Right, I have them, and they are usually backed by facts. I am a font of fact-based opinions, which I will hold up to anyone any day of the week. Don’t bring it if you don’t want to get burned.
  • To smart
    • Yes, more than one man has told me my brain is intimidating. They are looking for someone more arm candy-like who will not embarrass them by speaking.
  • To unavailable
    • This meant I didn’t drop everything to serve them on a whim. Yes, that is what they expected. Leave work, defer my plans, even put myself at risk if needed, so they were served. Really, Sir, I don’t know you like that.

In the simplest terms: too much or not enough.

Those were just the highlights. Fantastic right? The men I have met have all behaved as if they were somehow doing me a favor. Fools who have convinced themselves their presence is enough and nothing more is required of them. These man-children have somehow gotten it into their heads that they are THE GIFT, despite their inability to provide even the simple things necessary to create and sustain a relationship.

If I weren’t so depressed by it, I would find it fascinating.

I have always found human behavior interesting. Where do people get their ideas? Why do they behave the way they do, especially when it is contrary to their best interest? Don’t misunderstand, I have been known to do the same thing, in all honesty, I have been told that my desire for ‘privacy’ in certain aspects of my life is in large part the cause of my divorce, yes, it is true. My desire to keep aspects of my history as just that, history, led to a disconnect, misunderstanding and mistrust.

Well, I still don’t disclose. Strange. I write my history in these pages under a name that isn’t mine. Sometimes, I disclose my blog to anyone interested in reading so that anyone genuinely interested could dig through a decade of writing and find what they were looking for. I am reticent to discuss, and I suppose it is my nature because I do not wish to look at the pity, answer the questions, or even sometimes see the naked ugliness of blame that many in my generation still assign.

What I want to know, why does everyone believe our history is their business? It is a mystery to me. You can’t fix it, you can’t change it, you can’t kiss the booboo and make it all better. Let us keep our secrets if that is what we wish. Not all of us want to tell you about our trauma’s and drama’s, not all of us want you to know we were gang raped at 11 or that our first real ‘love’ partner beat us into unconsciousness, more than once. Some of us want the past to stay in the past, where we have locked our demons away so we can live our lives.

If I tell you I don’t blame all men, I am telling you the truth. I am also telling you the truth, if I tell you I don’t drag my history into my future. But I should not have to tell you the intimate details of the brutality of my past to make you comfortable. I rose up, I survived, I am more than my past. All of those things those men saw, those things that intimated those man-children, those things that created me, the woman I am, the warrior-queen, THE GIFT I am; those are my past, and I am not ashamed but they are mine and I feel under no obligation to share them.

Unfortunately, it leaves an overwhelming sadness to know that now the road ahead is shorter than the road behind, and I seem destined to walk the rest of it alone. This wasn’t what I had envisioned when fighting those battles to survive, grow, and heal.

Filed Under: Series: Single Life, Uncategorized Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,

Maybe Next Time

April 8, 2025 by

You know that feeling? You know, the one when you think to yourself, ‘this is it, this might be that one I was looking for!”  Yes, that feeling. It doesn’t matter if it is a person, a job, or even some inanimate object; you get that high when you think, “This is the one!”

I am convinced that many of us are trying to recapture something that made us feel good in our past. The adrenaline high we got as children when we flew down a hill on our bikes without braking or climbed to the very top of a tree and then looked down. That holy shit feeling when we snuck out of the house to see our favorite band. Or even that time we stole away to our first teenage party at the beach, drank terrible wine around the bonfire and listened to music with our friends.

We are looking for that punch of Dopamine we got from first love. Maybe it was when we felt great about ourselves and how we moved through the world. Possibly, it was the feeling of buying our dream car with our own money. Or even when we purchased our first home, and they handed us the keys. It could be anything; each of us has our own idea of what that ‘it’ moment was when all just seemed like it was, well, perfect.

The days move at an uneven pace these days. As if there is no rhythm to them anymore. It use to be there was some dependability to my days; I knew where I should be, what I should be doing, and honestly, who I would be with most of the hours of the day. I didn’t always love all of it or the people I had to spend time with, but at least I understood the days. Now? Now, I feel as if there are simply broken people, broken promises, and broken dreams somewhere screaming, save me, in a bottomless chasm.

Honestly, I don’t have the energy. I spent most of my entire life trying to ‘save’ other people when I should have been trying to save myself.

You would think I would know better.

You would think after all this time, all these failures, I would not fall prey to the fairytale of happily ever after. But I do because I very much want to believe the following things are real in this world;

Kindness and compassion –

Real love –

Sustained devotion and commitment –

Truth-telling –

Joy, yes, I said it; joy. Prolonged and encompassing joy.

The world is upside down these days. The things we thought we knew about life have been upended, and many of us are left floundering for anything to hold onto. We beat ourselves up for our failures and shake our fists at God and the Devil in equal measure for the holes in our lives we once believed would be filled with love, laughter, companionship, pleasure, and that elusive thing we cannot quite identify, but know might be joy.

Something shifted in the world. Something fundamental in our spirit changed how we saw ourselves and the world around us. Was the shift in the world, or did we somehow lose that spark that made us dance in the rain, laugh at silly jokes, or want to cuddle with someone we loved. When did this happen to so many of us that now we live these terrible lives of isolation, fear, and ever-increasing aloneness?

I think it is both good and bad, uplifting and soul-crushing. I am at the bridge of the Baby Boomers, born in 1957; my mother is on the bridge between Boomers and the Silent Generation; it is strange in many ways; we had the same experiences and witnessed the same social disruptions no matter where within the generational range we fall. The one thing we have in common? We both find ourselves wondering what in the hell happened to that damned fairytale, that whole ‘cake and eat it too’ we were promised if we just did all the right things.

Okay, I know; I didn’t always do all the right things. But hell, who did? What I did do, was I busted my ass, all day, every day and provided when no one else could or would. I lost everything more than once and rebuilt my life from the ashes of heartbreak. I loved immensely and hard, even when I wasn’t loved in return. I got up, brushed myself off and laughed, even when I wanted to cry until there were no more tears, even when I didn’t wonder if it would be easier to lay down and never get back up.

Here we are; the world is changing, and being called a Boomer is now a slur. Strange. The generation that marched to end war, to move the nation towards more freedom, that invented many of the things that make life easier. The generation that freed women like me to have careers, own homes, and choose different lives from our mothers. The generation that changed this nation in very real ways, at least for a while, is now the same generation that is miserable because of those changes.

Did we look away? Did we grow apathetic? What happened to us? I ask myself this more days than not. It seems we lost some spark, some passion for the things that mattered. I am desolate that my generation forgot about justice, empathy, compassion, and yes, more than anything else, we seem to have forgotten joy.

Somewhere, I know that spark exists. Somewhere buried inside it is still in there just waiting for something to re-ignite the flame. But not today, not yesterday, and likely not tomorrow either. These days? These days, all I hear is to much, to smart, to fat, not enough, oh yeah and today, desperate… to mean, to honest, to much history.

All if it might be true, but like they say, “Want a perfect girl, buy a Barbie doll.”

Filed Under: Personal Notes, Random Thoughts Tagged With: , , , , , ,

Let’s Talk

August 3, 2024 by

When I say ‘let’s talk’ does this scare you? For some it should, you know when a woman says, ‘We need to talk,’ it can cause some men to pull up short, shiver in their boots in the sun’s heat, or run and hide. But truthfully, I think it is time for us to have a serious conversation about our shared world.

Now, most of us know we are not the same. Men and women, that is, we are not the same. We were never intended to be the same; we are different for a reason. We complement each other; we balance each other. Men and women are the yin and yang of the world, we are inseparable yet contradictory opposites.

What does this mean in today’s world of division, opposition, and power struggles.

First, it means we don’t understand our real place in the world, so we are constantly clinging to old ways. What is fascinating is watching not just those who have something to gain if they win, but those who have everything to lose and yet still follow the path of either least resistance or worse belief the old ways are best.

Every time I see a woman who supports ‘traditional’ roles without considering outcomes, I want to gnash my teeth, or shake her. Now, do not mistake me, there is nothing wrong with making a personal choice to become a ‘stay-at-home’ wife and mother, if this is truly a personal choice. There is nothing wrong with celebrating the opportunity to raise your children and care for your home, not one single thing. However, what are you doing to ensure your future? Do you have a fallback position? Is your future secure? Can you financially care for yourself if something were to happen to your husband, or should your husband decide you are no longer what he wants and he throws you out for a newer model?

Just asking the question that needs to be asked.

Then there are those women with a platform who use their megaphones to deride other women and strip other women of their opportunities and choices. I honestly don’t just want to shake them, I want their mouths to be duct taped and their megaphones to be stripped from them, permanently. These women are dangerous. They are in it for no reason but performance and attention. While they are making more money than their education would command in the private sector, they are intentionally promoting other women’s loss of rights and opportunities. Let’s be clear, these are the women who cheered the Dodd decision, while actively swallowing their birth control pill every morning. THEY ARE NOT PRO LIFE! What they are is Anti Choice for any woman that is not them. What they are is anti opportunity for any woman that is not them, does not look like them, and does not vote like them. What they are is members of a cult that wants to strip men and women of the right to vote unless that vote is cast for them and theirs.

Just pointing out the obvious, at least I hope it is obvious.

Now we come to the present.

Joe Biden made the hard decision to drop out of the Presidential Race. I hate how he was publicly pressured. I hate how he was publicly embarrassed. I think he deserved better. I am proud of our President and the grace he ultimately showed in his withdrawal and his endorsement of Kamala Harris, his own Vice President.

Kamala Harris, Vice President of the United States of America and Presidential Nominee of the Democratic Party. First Bi-Racial Vice President. First Bi-Racial Presidential Nominee of a major party. First Woman Vice President. She has energized the Democratic Party with her campaign. With ninety-three (93) days before the election, she has had to kick-off campaigning, vet potential vice presidential governing mates, and raise money. She has had to reach out to the cohorts that were indifferent to the Biden campaign and try to win them over, and she has had to try to figure out how she is going to Beat Trump.

What do you think so far?

I have heard a great deal of nonsense so far especially about how America is not ready for a Woman President, and White People won’t vote for her. Here is what I think based on what I see.

  • She has outpaced fund raising, by millions. The grassroots think she is worth backing and so do many others.
  • She has the infrastructure in place to knock on doors and talk to people. The volunteers are already out there, it is amazing to see her team at work in just three short weeks. Just to point out the obvious, her team is from all races, all genders.
  • She hit the campaign trail without blinking an eye. She has crisscrossed the country and she is talking policy. Even where her policy might differ from the administration policy she is plain spoken, unafraid, and clear about where she stands.
  • She doesn’t insult or play childish games with her opponent, she simply answers with, “I am ready, Say it to my Face.” I love her for this!

I am fascinated by the fact the Trump team do not know what to do with a Woman at the head of the ticket. I am even more fascinated they don’t know what to do with a bi-racial woman at the head of the ticket. So what do they do? Drag out their old tired attacks from the Obama years and hope they land. All I can say, we are not the same; men and women that is, we are not the same. This applies equally to the nation, we are not the same nation we were eight years ago and I believe many of us don’t want to go back. I strongly believe there are Democrats, Independents, even Republicans who are looking at the very real differences between the old and tired Donald J. Trump and the new and energized Kamala Harris and saying to themselves, “It is time for change, time for positive energy to move us forward.”

For me? I believe in the country and I believe that most of us will not be held back by ignorance when we step into the polls to cast our votes. We are not the same, but sometimes we come together for the right reasons.

Early Voting Map

Filed Under: Op Ed, Presidential Election 2024, Presidential Elections Tagged With: , , , ,

Your Mama

March 25, 2024 by

Yes, I said I would come back to talk about dates. It took me a bit because I have been out on a few. I had a couple of first dates, a couple of second dates. I even had a short courtship that I thought was promising but turned out to be smoke and mirrors. What the hell is wrong with men of a certain age, I have to ask this question. What in the hell is wrong with any of us for that matter.

Women, many of us anyway still dream of finding that partner who will walk with us through the remainder of our days. Men, they apparently still only want the superficial, the short-term, or the not so much.

So let me tell you about these men, of a certain age. These sort of dates, this sort of courtship. Shams and silliness. I am discouraged and disappointed in the quality, the ethics, the standards, and values of the men I have met so far. Perhaps they would say the same of me, who knows.

The difference, in my humble opinion; I am transparent in my wants, desires, expectations, and most specifically who and what I am. The same cannot be said of any of the men I have thus far met, dated, or been ‘courted’ by.  I am disappointed that there are not more men who have reached this age capable of adult behavior, conversation, and sustained actions that match the lip service they pay to get what they want.

In a word, I am disappointed there are not more grown assed men in this great big world. Ten years ago, just before my divorce was final, I wrote about what I wanted from the next man in my life, what he was, who he needed to be. I went back to read those two posts, oddly my mystery man hasn’t changed over this past decade. Unfortunately, he remains in the shadow of my mind, quite possibly only a dream.

All I can say to these others, these posers who claim to be grown; your mama’s did not raise you right and your daddy’s surely gave you no direction in what to do when you find yourself in the company of a grown assed woman.

Date One: First, we had to get through his food issues. Then we had to get through planning, yeah, ultimately, I had to find a restaurant that served food he could / would eat (Strike One). Then, he was late by more than 20 minutes despite it being local (Strike Two). Now, it was a casual place, but showing up in raggedy jeans, a Cowboy’s jersey, and not one, not two but three great big metal chains with crosses hanging on your neck, along with a cap on your head that you don’t remove when you sit down; you really haven’t got it together (Strike Four). Finally, when the food is brought out my date tells me he needs to pray before eating, okay; but do you need to pray aloud for three minutes so diners all around us can hear you make a spectacle of yourself and while you are at it, me? When the waiter comes over to fill our glasses, Date One looks me dead in the eye and asks, “you don’t mind if we go Dutch, right?” Oh, hell no I don’t mind; in fact, I insist if it will get me out of here any quicker (Strike Five and Six).

Date Two: After several conversations we decided to meet for lunch. I explained I can’t drive at night, so we agreed on a Saturday and a town between us. He lives southeast of Dallas, and I live northwest. This time I was happy to choose as he was newer to the area. This time we agreed up front to a Dutch date as I wanted to go somewhere a bit more expensive, one of my favorite places. According to his profile and our conversations he had relocated for a job with a local school district. So off we go. I waited for 30 minutes (He was late), when he finally arrived instead of asking at the front, he wandered around looking for me until the waiter took pity and figured out he was likely looking for me (Strike One).  He blamed traffic, I knew where he was coming from and had checked so knew he lied (Strike Two). During the course of our conversation, he admitted he had lost his job in Chicago and had come to Dallas because his brother offered him a place to live, though he did work for a school district it was as a driver not a job he relocated for (Strike Three). His manners were atrocious, and he was incapable of holding a conversation beyond gossiping about his own family members, especially the brother who was kind enough to put a roof over his head (Strike Four). He told me what a great lover he was and that I should invite him over that day to try him out (Strike Five). I couldn’t wait to finish my meal with a to-go box, pay my side of the bill and run like hell.

Well, my darlings that is enough of shenanigans for now. I will get to the one who called himself courting me in the next post. That is a story worthy of its own post.

I think I might be destined to live my life alone if this is what is out there to choose from. I am disheartened and sad that men of an age are still playing games and acting the fool. I would have thought by now they would have put this behind them, but I guess not. Maybe that Grown Assed Man isn’t out there at all, maybe he is only in my head.

Filed Under: Love & Marriage, Series: Single Life Tagged With: , ,

Shadows and Resolutions

January 1, 2024 by

I have not made New Year resolutions in decades. They are a form of self-flagellation in which I find little purpose and much to be afraid. What possesses any of us to sit down at the end of each year and make a list of all our ‘failures’ and then make a list of all we will do ‘better’? Really, are we demented? Or maybe we are simply defeatists at heart.

I say this, especially to women: our lists are long and weighty. Our lists are driven by social media and all the faults we find with ourselves daily in the mirror, storefronts we walk by, and catalogs that don’t carry our size. For some reason, our lists always start there, in the feckin’ mirror:

  • Our hips are too wide;
  • Our asses are too big;
  • Our stomachs are too flabby;
  • Our tits fell another inch;
  • Our thighs touch instead of gap;
  • Our arms jiggle;
  • Our necks, oh shit, our necks aren’t smooth, and neither are our faces anymore.

Our friends don’t help; they have the latest diet locked down and don’t see any harm in telling us that if we would only buy their products, maybe we could lose weight and be beautiful again. The worst thing is, we think perhaps they are right, maybe we could. Or maybe they could STFU and remind themselves they are as imperfect as we are.

Then there is that shadow in the mirror that reminds us of all our failed relationships, friendships lost, marriages ruined, lovers in the wind, jobs vanished. It is impossible not to look. Impossible not to lift the covers and ask, what could I have done to change the outcome? The shadow of unbearable bullshit stares at you, and the blame game begins, the coulda, shoulda, woulda;

  • I could have said yes, even if it meant I was unheard;
  • I could have spoken up, even if it meant a fight;
  • I could have not held everything so close;
  • I should have listened more;
  • I should have fought for balance between us;
  • I should have told someone;
  • I wouldn’t have been less if I wasn’t so afraid;
  • I wouldn’t have been afraid if I didn’t see myself as unworthy.

You see? Self-flagellation.

Before you can write a resolution, you must look into that mirror and tell yourself what you want that is different from what you have today. Specifically, you have to own your own shit.

What do I want that is different than what I have? Honestly? I am entirely uncertain that I can affect what I want at this point in my life. I think the things I want, the things I believed would make me happy or contented in life, are no longer aligned with my personality dysfunction.

It took a lifetime to get to where I am, to this place of quirks, quiet, heartbreak, and strength. A lifetime of pain, fear, aloneness, and sometimes unremitting loneliness. It took a lifetime of giving everything I had to everyone else, only to be told it, and I was not enough. It took husbands and lovers leaving. It took parents turning their backs in my darkest hours. It took days of never hearing another human voice. It took friends forgetting me, it took siblings turning away.

All of these losses taught me the power of love.

That love was unending, that heartbreak and loss doesn’t stop you from loving those who hurt you. That love simply teaches you how much you can endure and how powerful silence can be. The other lesson is how hard even the softest heart can become if it is hurt often enough.

You see? Self-flagellation.

That mirror shows what is not within your reach. In the silence of my prayers I often ask for grace. I think, though, that I what I seek is something different than grace. It is more, that I don’t hate myself for all my mistakes, for the things I could have done differently, for the secrets I could have told and choose not to. I know that too frequently, I put myself in the way to be hurt as retribution for the wrong I believed I did. In retrospect, I didn’t deserve that, yet I did it anyway at great expense to an already savaged spirit.

So now, though I will not call it a resolution this year, I will spend some small part of the year stitching together some of my heart with stronger threads than I have used in the past. I won’t say it will make me a better person, more loving or kind. I won’t promise that this attempt to heal myself more fully will allow me to find and be loved by another person as I wish; honestly, I believe that ship sailed a decade ago. But perhaps by looking into those shadows without self-flagellation, I will find the pieces that still need healing and will be better able to live the life I have more fully.

Filed Under: Things I know Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

Anything for Love

December 26, 2023 by

I always loved Meatloaf; I know it’s a strange way to start this, but it’s fitting. Take my word for it. In the song, “I Would Do Anything for Love,” four promises are made; most don’t realize this when they listen and constantly wonder what the singer won’t do for love.

If you pay attention to the chorus of the song, each time there is a promise and in that promise is what the singer will not do. Most people never realize this twist in the song written by Jim Steinman and released by Meatloaf in 1993.

“Oh I would do anything for love
But I won’t do that, no I won’t do that”

Well, I can tell you without a doubt that these tired men out here have a litany of things they will not do, not for love or anything else. But whooee baby, do they want to know what you (me) will do for them, and damned if they don’t want to know in great detail.

What is this dial-a-babe? I think you have the wrong number, but I have some spare time so let’s play who has the best imagination, shall we?

Him: I am looking for a long-term relationship. Someone with morals, standards, and values. Someone I can trust and tell my secrets to, who will have my back and wants to make a life with me.

Me: What does that look like for you?

Him: I have six grown children and fourteen grandchildren; I want to find a woman who can be part of my family. Who has humor, can embrace a large family, and wants to make me part of hers. I also enjoy travel and want someone who enjoys seeing new places and cultures.

So far so good, right? This guy is kind of great. Right up my alley. Polite, articulate. Big family, so he understands family dynamics. His profile is funny and articulate, so he had me at the humor! He is a little younger than me, but only by a couple of years, and bonus he is rather nice on the eyes.

The conversation continued with some back-and-forth chatting for a bit, and then he dropped a bombshell.

Him: Usually, women your age don’t want sexually intimate relationships. What is your stance on this?

Me: Have you dated many women my age, or is this simply your online experience?

Him: Only my online experience.

Me: Well maybe it is your approach to the subject. Most of the women I know my age love sex. The problem is that men our age are incapable of accomplishing the goal.

Him: I don’t understand.

Me: Right. Mentioning a woman’s age in the same sentence as you approach sexual intimacy is usually not going to get you very far. That’s like saying to a woman, “I think you are a brilliant conversationalist, but you are too old to fuck.”

Him: Oh. Got it. I don’t think you needed to be that crude though. But I do see what you mean.

Me: I tend to be blunt when it is called for. I think beating around that bush wasn’t going to get the point across.

Him: So, you like sex?

Me: I love sex. With the right person and when the time is right.

Him: Do you like oral sex?

Me: Do you know how to perform oral sex?

Him: Oh, I meant do you like to perform oral sex?

Me: Yes, I know what you meant; the sword is two-edged, though, isn’t it? You are far too old to believe that you should receive without giving. With six children, you should also know how real sexual intimacy works; it starts in the mind. If you catch a woman’s mind, the heart follows; after that, you can ask for anything. But true sexual  intimacy is reciprocal. It is never all about one partner, or about what you like or what you get, while your woman is left wanting.

Him: I don’t like doing that. It doesn’t turn me on.

Me: Well, that is where your problem will always start and stay. Especially at this age when you can’t always depend on your little soldier coming to attention on command.

I haven’t heard back from him; I don’t expect to either. He made me laugh, though, and I thought I would share this one with you. At least he didn’t cuss me out when I challenged his manhood. This is the world of online dating at the getting-to-know-you phase. Delightful, isn’t it?

This is just one of so many. I can be snarky when it is called for. I try not to be, but there are days. What is wrong with these men? Really, what is wrong with them? These are not twenty-five-year-olds with an abundance of testosterone and decades of life ahead of them, these men are 55+, but you surely would not know it by they way they act. Oh well, maybe it is true; maybe some men never grow up.

Next up, the two actual dates I went on and why I wanted to find a brick wall.

Filed Under: Series: Single Life Tagged With: , , ,

Men & Women

November 25, 2023 by

Do you think we are fundamentally different from each other? Men and women, that is, are we different? I mean, other than the noticeable differences, do you think we are genuinely different on the inside? Don’t you think we have the same needs, desires, and wants?

We thirst, hunger, seek shelter. Most of us seek comfort when we are sick. We seek companionship when we are lonely. We seek friendships, people with whom we can form relationships to sustain us. Many of us want to procreate at some point in our lives. And come on, let’s be honest, most of us like sex.

I said it; I just threw it out there, SEX. Most of us like SEX. I won’t lie; I miss sex, I miss intimacy and lying in bed talking and touching, but dammit, I also miss sex. Maybe we aren’t supposed to say these things. Maybe people would be more comfortable if we didn’t say them. I know this mystical wall seems to come down when we hit a certain age, and if we aren’t married or at least partnered in some meaningful way, we seem to regrow our magical hymen as if we are reborn virgins suddenly.

The truth is, sex is more fun once the fear of pregnancy doesn’t burden you, the exhaustion of childrearing doesn’t wear you down, and you have more free time. Sure, it changes because your body changes, but the fundamentals don’t change, and everything is still in the same place and works. Women are funny like that; we don’t require chemicals to help us get where we are going; we simply need patience and extra lubrication.

What does change when we reach a certain age? For me, at least, I don’t want just any Tom or Harry with a Dick in my bed. There are rules to the game these days. I want someone who works to engage my mind before they tell me they want to engage my body. It isn’t that I think I am such a fabulous creature the pursuit should be costly, but there should at least be a willingness to pursue, to show interest in ME.

Thus far, in the interest of fair play, I have tried hard to make myself as transparent as possible on the dating sites I chose. In fact, I read what I wrote after my divorce and used some of that in my profile to create a picture of what I was looking for (links below). I chose sites that serve my preferences and have larger pools in my geographic area and larger pools of people in my age range. My profile pictures are not tasteless club shots; yes, a couple of my tattoos show, but the only way to hide them would be to dress like a nun. Again, I am transparent: if you don’t like tattoos, I am not the one, so move along.

Bachelor #1: he was cute until he opened his mouth to let me know I needed someone to take control. Pass and Block.

Bachelor #2: handsome man, well dressed in his profile picture and, according to his write-up, well-educated too. His first message was very polite; I thought, ‘Well, this is nice.’ His next message is, “Well-endowed and ready to swing.” Hard pass and block.

Bachelor #3: sent 15 messages over the course of two days, all demanding I meet him immediately if I ever wanted a relationship with a ‘good’ man. His messages got increasingly aggressive. Pass, report, and block.

Bachelor #4: we had several relatively comfortable conversations until he asked me if I would relocate across the country for love. I answered that it would be a difficult choice since my life is here. So, I asked him the same question, and he responded that it was a woman’s duty to support her man. I burst out laughing, which was the end of that one after a few choice words. LOL

Bachelor #5: Interesting conversation that reminded me of why I have to always stand up for myself and never again be silent when someone tries to shut me up or shut me down. I am great with a good debate; I love a great debate about anything you want to debate. I am a font of useful and useless knowledge, and most people’s opinions will never stand up under the scrutiny of my facts, so please bring it on. Understand me; I love our soldiers and respect their service. I have too many in my family who have served not to respect those who serve in our volunteer military. Nevertheless, thinking your service in any Armed Forces branch’s enlisted ranks makes you an expert on geopolitical issues is simply foolishness. Unless you have spent all those years of service at the CIA, being an Army Drill Sergeant was just your cover; you are no more expert than the next person. You have a unique perspective if you served in battle, but this still doesn’t make you an expert on geopolitical issues, only on the battlefields you served. When he combined his disdain of my opinion because of my ‘lack’ of service with his quoting of Fox soundbites, his quotes from 45, and his sprinkling of Biblical stands on a woman’s place, well, let’s say…. HARD PASS and BLOCK.

A few others didn’t make it to the point of a conversation or weren’t worthy of noting here.

Maybe I am fated to be alone. That would be a shame, I think there is still life in me. I think there is something still worth loving in me. I don’t think I am done yet, but boy, oh boy, if this is what the world has to offer, I sure might be.

So, back to my original question: men and women, are we really all that different? It seems we are not different in our desires, but how we go about it, dang.

From April 2014: https://valentinelogar.com/2014/04/13/served-grown-up-please/

From July 2014: https://valentinelogar.com/2014/07/03/served-grown-up-part-deux/

From Oct 2014: https://valentinelogar.com/2014/10/12/imprinted-for-life-attractions/

Filed Under: Love & Marriage, Series: Single Life Tagged With: , , , ,

Dating at an Age

November 4, 2023 by

I just re-read this series to see what has changed. Not much except that I am four years older, still single and maybe just a bit more unhappy with the situation than I was. Truthfully, the thought of growing old alone and unpartnered gives me a certain sadness and increasing fear as I look into the future.

Looking back, I know I must own most of the choices that brought me here. Not all of them, but many of them. Strangely, I only regret some, but not all.

Do I wish sometimes I could take some things back? Absolutely. Yet, I also know it wouldn’t have changed the ultimate outcome and may have made it worse.

Oddly, I chose to spend years in a relationship that wasn’t a relationship to protect myself from looking for anything better. Did I know he wasn’t the one? Of course, I did. Not because I didn’t love him, but because in my heart I knew he didn’t love me. Did I know he would never be the one? I expect I did; I allowed myself the blinders to not see what was uncomfortable so I could exist in a relationship that would ultimately hurt me and shove me further into solitude but allow me the comfort of my introversion without explanation. I spent seven (7) years waiting for my heart to heal with a man who broke me more. Does that seem counterintuitive?

Did I learn anything? Many things, some of the things I learned, would help me to survive without partnership. Some made me even better as a future partner to that mythical being that may exist somewhere out there. Some of them, well, some of them likely making it harder for me to find that unicorn.

So here I am, finally ready to jump back in and search for that glade of warriors, who just might be ready to find me too. I know they will be battle-weary, have been out in the world just like me, and scared, just like me. I get it; we all have our war chests, filled with all the medals of wars won and lost, swirled with all the bullshit of lies told and hurt survived. I promise you I am not looking for pristine; that would be the most ridiculous ask I could make. I am just looking for that person who can match my energy, fill the empty spaces, and wants to be a true partner in what is left of this journey.

What is all this leading up to? Good question, and I want to share. Well, those who have followed in the past know I share, sometimes too much. With everything going on in the world, all the terrible and terrifying, there has to be something we can laugh at together, something we can smile about and even find the occasional ridiculous in. As I re-read this series, I thought, well, why not my experiences trying to find love at sixty-six.

No, I won’t share sex with you, not that there is any sex happening, dammit.

What I do plan, though, is the lighter side of online dating and otherwise. Dating sites are a treat to the senses once you find your humor about them. Yes, I signed up for several online dating sites explicitly promoted for my age and preferences.

I will tell you now: I have not found that mythical unicorn. I have discovered many trolls, and they can either destroy any last vestige of faith in possibility or in inciting hilarity, depending on your state of mind.

So, for now, I search and hope. I watch the world and wonder. I plan how to share the tribulations of dating at sixty-six without overwhelming you with the ugly, and begin to consider living the rest of my days as I live now if that person I hope for never emerges from the mist.

I hope you will follow the journey.

Filed Under: Series: Single Life Tagged With: , , , , ,

Invisible

May 20, 2023 by

You said I was transparent, invisible to you

Yet I was right there, standing in front of you

Even my tears fractured light, making rainbows as they fell

You said I had no meaning to you

But when you needed something, you always called

Now when you sit alone at night you automatically scroll to me

In the morning I see the random texts you send

I listen to the love songs you send at midnight, I weep

It was always me, my unconditional acceptance of your flaws

I was what terrified you, what made you furious

It was me, just who I was that panicked you, made you run

That I never demanded anything of you

Not once did I ask you to see me in the light

Never did I say to you, I am here, I am always here

But here you are again, after days and nights of deathly quiet

A silence brought on by your fear and your terrible

You can only say that you need something of me

I am still standing; I crawled up from invisible

Though truly I was obscured even from myself for a time

Made my way through the emptiness you left behind

Thought I was above it and beyond your reach, finally

But love conquers invisible, conquers tears

Love makes stupid choices when you want answers to ‘why?’

Why did you leave you me with only the memory of Invisible?

20-May-2023

Filed Under: Poetry Tagged With: , ,

The Rabbit Hole

January 31, 2023 by

“Alice: Really, now you ask me, I don’t think— Mad Hatter: Then you shouldn’t talk.”

Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland

During times of great upheaval, we look for something to balance us, anything that will provide us with ballast in what feels like a storm. It is a rare thing to find, rarer still to find that steadying hand or even that strong arm to give us a feeling that someone else is standing near, lending strength, and will not let us stumble or fall flat on our face.

Too often, what we find instead are those we once believed had our backs are the first to run, the first to hightail it for the door. Then we sit in the center of chaos, wondering how we will sort through brokenness and shattered dreams to make a new life. Too often, the first response is to lash out; we want to know why. Why did you do this? Why did you run? Why did you hurt me? Why didn’t you stay? Why aren’t you here? Oddly, the answer isn’t going to help us fix what is broken or rebuild the life we thought we wanted. The answer is often worse than not knowing.

Within all the chaos, we have meltdowns, and people want to know why; what is wrong with us. They want to offer their best advice during our weakest moments. Instead of listening to us, to what we need, they slide in with their best recommendations to cure what ails us. It really is fascinating how closely linked our pain is to our expectations and how rare it is for others to understand we have them. This is especially true for those of us who spend much of our time alone. When we venture out, it is with our very public face, one we show to keep others at arm’s length and out of our personal world.

When we sit in moments of silence, it is sometimes obvious to us that what we wanted wasn’t for us. If it were, we wouldn’t have had to fight so hard to keep it. I think this is true of nearly every part of our life, from childhood to old age. Those transient things are there to teach us, and no matter how badly we wish they were ours forever, and ever, and a day; they are just lessons in life. So sometimes, we weep, wail, and rattle the bars; then, we move on to the next thing that hopefully will be better for the lessons we have learned. Yet still, we look back and wonder what we did wrong, why we weren’t good enough when we gave all we had, opened ourselves and made ourselves vulnerable to a world that terrified us.

Mad Hatter: “I know a thing or two about liking people, and in time, after much chocolate and cream cake, ‘like’ turns into ‘what was his name again?'”     

 Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventure in Wonderland

Filed Under: Personal Notes, Random Thoughts Tagged With: , , , , ,
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