Married, not dead

Lo, these many years ago when I was young and beautiful, or at least young and not-hideous, I stopped by the record store (yes, records; I said it was lo, these many years ago, didn't I?) and coffee shop where my friend worked. I was wearing a strapless sundress and, being young and not-hideous, my hair was right and my make-up was right, and so on. I believe I was blonde at the time, too, though I'm not sure that's relevant.

My friend commented that the owner of the business had been looking at me (I hadn't noticed) and she thought he was thinking lustful thoughts. I said, "Oh, don't be silly, he's married."

She looked at me like I was perhaps a little slow and said, "He's married, he's not dead." Privately, since he was nearly 20 years older than I and hardly knew me, and was married, I thought I hoped she was wrong and that, if not, ick.

As far as the lusting after slight acquaintances who are 20 years your juniors, still ick.

I have discovered, though, that being married does not, after all, mean being dead to the attractions of other people. Most of my married life, I haven't had much interest in anyone but my husband, and I'm not really the lusting-after-acquaintances kind.

And I won't ever be having an affair, nor have I ever had one or given any serious thought to having one.

But there are men I've--noticed--over the years. There are men I've never forgotten. There have been a few men I've noticed noticing me, and when that isn't off-putting (that is, attention from a man in whom I would never be interested), I have to admit that it is very attractive.

Like more than one other married woman, I sometimes find myself feeling less than attractive--and the best cure for that is the attention of an attractive man. I don't ever set out to make a man feel attracted to me, but I find that I'm not very disciplined about avoiding men who seem to find me attractive, either. Right or wrong, I might even seek it out, just a little, volunteering to work an extra day I know the man is working, choosing the man to ask for help with something rather than asking someone else...because if feels good to feel attractive, to feel alive that way, to feel sought after. It's never going anywhere--and no one has ever had any doubt about that.

But it is nice to be reminded that I'm not dead, either to these feelings or in the eyes of other men.

Very nice.

Recently, whether this is because I am feeling more like a sexual person, the cause of that, or (more likely) both, it seems there are a number of men on my mind, some from the past (but still around), some from the present. They are very much on my mind, and each is special in his own way, and because this is my space, my blog-as-journal, I think I may spend some time writing about them. As I said at the beginning, at least writing things down will help me get my feelings sorted.

Blog as journal

Maybe no one will ever read this blog. I don't know how to meet people or attract readers here starting from scratch.

It's all right with me if no one ever does. I like comments. I love comments. I like to interact with people. I like to meet new people.

This blog is my place to say what's on my mind about topics I don't usually discuss, though. It's my place to be free and express thoughts I normally keep to myself. If it turns out that I'm still keeping them to myself because no one ever reads, then it does. Writing them down will still help me get them sorted and make me feel I've expressed myself.

After my parents divorced, my mother lived practically a cloistered existence where men were concerned. She was a socially active, successful professional but never dated. She's just not that into dating. She's not that into sex or talking about sex or feeling healthy about sex. She feels that it's our mission to overcome any sexual feelings we might have.

As you might expect from that, she didn't talk much about any sexual feelings she had. I have certainly talked about sex with my friends over the years, although I'm not really into sharing details of what who did with whom and exactly what body parts did which. But I don't have a lot of female friends who are older than I am. I don't have any older sisters.

For whatever reason, I have arrived at my forties completely unprepared for what a very sexual age they would be, if only mentally.

I was warned that I might need to worry about peri-menopause, which hasn't been a factor. I was told to expect gravity to work, and wow, it does. I was told that I might have a teenager's complexion and my periods might be irregular.

But I did not expect that I would so come into my own when it comes to sex. I think about sex more than ever. I want to have sex more than ever, and I always wanted to have sex more than many women. But now, I am grown up. I look back on lovers past and think "If I had known then what I know now, if I had been as unafraid then as I am now, if you had been as unafraid then as I am now - wow!"

How is that I'm here at what is supposed to be the age of encroaching sexual decrepitude as randy as a teenager but more intense and centered? Where did this rush of sexuality come from?

Is this age-related? Or is the result of my current state of abstinence? Has the enforced period of no sex in my life resulted in making it the focus of so many of my thoughts?

Is it the sudden presence of men from the past and present, men I find exciting and interesting and arousing, men who are all unavailable to me for one reason or another but who show interest, anyway?

How did everything become all about sex? And why do I love that so much?