in favor of love

It’s a daily struggle for me to balance my raging 40-year-old libido with my greater desire for meaningful connection and partnership.

While it’s tempting to revel in the hedonistic pleasures of casual sex, I am trying to stay focused on the long-term. I’m saying no to casual offers in order to nurture my deeper desires. On a spiritual level, I’m demonstrating to the universe what’s important to me and asking for support in attracting my soul mate. In essence, I’m energetically “voting” for something more meaningful. On a purely physical level, this can be maddening.

I found myself tested a couple of days ago, while driving home from my Chicago vacation. A (married, with a hall pass) male friend texted me, “Read your blog. You deserve better.” He was referring to Chi-guy, of course. He then volunteered to give me a massage that very evening (he is professionally trained), an offer that was likely to lead to some very fuzzy boundaries at the least and several guilt-inducing orgasms at most. (Imagine me, raised in neither the Jewish nor Catholic traditions, feeling guilt! It’s a feeling that has eluded me most of my life.) Whether with a married or single man, it would be easy to allow such a dalliance to distract me from what I really want.

So I made a different choice: I called a new friend and asked him to meet me for a late movie, leaving out any mention of the misbehavior from which he might be saving me. Instead, we opted for conversation on the lovely patio of an historic restaurant in an old neighborhood…and I daresay the stimulating conversation was more satisfying, though in an entirely different way, than that hot night of sex I may have missed out on.

someone thinks I’m in a pretty good place

Two weeks ago…

The other night, I went out for a cocktail with…drumroll, please…more-like-it, a man who genuinely interests me: I mean he interests me as a human, he interests me as a potential date, I am intrigued by the thought of spending time with him, getting to know him a little better and determining whether we share relationship potential …and I am interested in wild, randy, raunchy, dirty bedroom sorts of things with him. Wildly interested.

We started at a networking event, running in to people he knew before we’d even reached the bar. They looked me up and down while asking him about his divorce. And then we found my people, who gave him pretty much the equivalent treatment. And when the requisite connections were made, we found our way to another bar, sitting side by side, laughing and flirting. We shared stories and he touched my knee. We talked, confessed and went off on tangents. Every cell in my body felt awake, present and ready for whatever might happen. There was no intense or burning passion, no urgency, what I felt when with him was more like a rhythm bass, a low thrumming, or the deep, throaty idle of a powerful engine. Finally, we walked back to my car and he kissed me goodnight.

He seems not ready, in my estimation, for the things that I might be interested in doing with him. Or, if he is, he doesn’t appear to be interested in me, particularly. We came about this cocktail in a sort of very roundabout way, and he has not directly asked me out. Nor has he ever paid me any compliments about my appearance. He initiates communication with me sometimes, which suggests some level of desire to stay connected, but… Oh well, I’m not going to analyze. My ways of understanding a man’s interest are 1) that he finds a way to let me know that he finds me attractive and 2) he asks me out. So, unless or until these items are met, I have little to work with.

So there’s me, probably in the friend zone again, because I am understanding and accepting of others and I genuinely believe it’s okay to be where you are. And if not ready is where he is…well, then, there’s not a lot I can do about that. No matter how freakin’ fabulous I am — and regardless of how fun that naughtiness I have in mind is gonna be!

I think the “current state” thing about me that excites me most is a little incident that occurred at a party last weekend. I was out with friends I rarely see, all of whom went to college together. (We do not share this alma mater.) I sat next to the usual guy, whose wife was otherwise engaged, and we caught up while chatting with another couple. After it had been established that we were not “together” (no funny business here, folks), we chatted about the last year of my life — divorce, turning forty, quitting my job.

After a while, the wife (of the other couple) observed, “You seem like you’re in a very good place. You’re not completely healed, there’s still a little bit of something there…but you’re doing well.”

Why a complete stranger would say something like this to me, and why it would mean something, is a mystery. Yet it was a gift. I needed to hear that, yeah, I’m still a bit of a freak show (or hot mess, however you prefer to put it), but healing is a journey and it’s nice to hear that, at least by appearance, I’m nearly there.

And I guess maybe that it’s because I’m not fully, completely ready to meet someone special that I can be okay with an intriguing guy being unready and just leave things alone. As much as I’d like to go out and play, I don’t want to mess things up. And if he gets ready and still has no interest in me…well, I’ll have to get okay with that, too. But I’m strong enough to manage. After all, I’m nearly healed.

what I want right now

I want to meet someone fun, who I look forward to seeing on a weekend.

I want to dress up and go out and be told I’m pretty.

I want to meet someone adventurous, who likes to be active, to cook, to eat, to talk, to enjoy life.

I want to share all the passion and intensity and laziness and closeness I can muster.

I want to discover amazing new sensations all over and inside my brain and heart and body.

I am not alone…real dating horror stories

I cannot report that I’ve been super enthused about my post-divorce dating experience. I’ve experienced flaky men, very little chemistry, awkward conversations and have met online one man who sparked my interest enough for me to genuinely look forward to seeing him again. As it happens, I’m not the only one going through an unsatisfying streak…

I recently enjoyed a morning with a younger, single (never married) girlfriend who is beautiful, fit, charming, delightful, intelligent and far beyond kind. She is the kind of girl a man would be proud to bring home to meet his family and, if he wasn’t a complete idiot, might recognize that he should throw himself at her feet and beg her to spend the rest of her life with him. And soon, before some smarter man figures it out. She is that amazing!

And she is having as shockingly bad experiences (or bad luck?) as I’ve been having on the dating scene…actually, worse!

I “get” my problems dating. I still feel like a fuck-up some of the time. More-like-it suggested I’m judging harshly — and I know I’m finding excuses to not get out and meet men. I’ve got baggage and am still working to become the kind of woman who draws spectacular, loving men to me effortlessly. And, frankly, my time is precious and so are my girlfriends. I’m more inclined spend time with them than take a chance on meeting some other guy from an online dating site.

But my girlfriend? Well, her time is precious, too, and she’s got an active social life with lots of great gals. She is the girl who taught me to meet men with a camera: go up to a group of guys, and ask one of them to take a photo of you with your girlfriends — it’s an easy ice breaker and great way to start a conversation.

Here are some of the dating stories she told me during our time together:

She met a really awesome guy out one evening. They hit it off immediately and began talking, texting and spending time together. Suddenly, he didn’t call for a week. And then, when he did, he told her that his ex-wife (from whom he’s been divorced for eight months) wanted to get back together. Though she treated him horribly and initiated the divorce, he was compelled to give it another try because “it’s the right thing to do.”

With another man, she had amazing intellectual and philosophical conversations (not to mention some amazing make-out sessions)…until that night he told her he could really imagine spending his life with her, thus felt the need to lay his cards on the table. Dude is creeped out by buttons and fascinated by skeletal parts of small animals. Rarely wears suits (in fact, chose a career to accommodate) and collects the remains of small furry animals. No shit. Needless to say, her attraction evaporated pretty much on the spot. No more for me, thanks; I’ve lost my appetite.

And then there was the long-distance man she so enjoyed over the phone and via email…when they managed to be in the same city, he took her out for a lovely dinner and then suggested a walk. But before they went walking, he had to stop at his car so he could strap on his hand gun. What?! Ok, he was in the military and from a more dangerous part of town…maybe forgivable…until he began telling her this story: from his apartment window, he heard a scream and looked out to see a man dragging a woman across the parking lot forcefully by her hair. He yelled at this man to leave the woman alone. The man told him to mind his own business. So he began assembling his semi-automatic assault rifle right there in the window, aimed the laser at the abuser’s head and cocked it… Wow! Gotta love a defender of women, but you could dial 911… or you could whip out your semi-automatic assault rifle, right?

And there’s more!

She went out for lunch along the river with a man she’d met. At the restaurant, she ran into the proprietor (who she knows). Her date immediately said, “Great, I hope now we’ll get a decent table and not have to wait so long!” He also connected with her on LinkedIn and, within minutes, proceeded to make sales calls to her place of business. Ewww. She later learned this fellow is a notorious jerk with whom several unfortunate, but fabulous, women have had run ins.

I can’t claim to have had such fantastically bad luck as my girlfriend…yet, apparently these are not unusual stories among singles these days. Another girlfriend has shown up to dates who looked nothing like their profile photos — I mean they were outright using someone else’s pictures. One guy was of an entirely different race than his online photo! Just goes to show you, there are a lot of nut jobs out there…

What are your dating horror stories? I’m dying to know. Honestly, in the same way that watching The Real Housewives makes me feel grounded and serene, it makes me feel just a little less alone in this crazy dating world to know others are experiencing a little madness, too!

deconstructing attraction

Most of us are pretty good at noticing when we’re attracted to someone. And often, we don’t take the time to analyze why or what it all means. So let’s take a moment to break this down:

There’s the obvious physical attraction, which may have to do with appearance, style, smile, eyes, pheromones or any number of other external characteristics.
There’s intellectual attraction, which I’ll define as getting turned on by the way someone thinks or expresses himself, and is often experienced when you get the feeling you could talk to the guy forever and never get bored. Of course, this needn’t require the object of affection to be a genius. Sometimes simply being able to hold a conversation and have presence and attention is enough. And we’ll lump those things into this category.
And there’s emotional attraction. It’s a bit slippery to try to define this one, because for women it often gets muddled right into the other two without a lot of thought. We often mistake an intellectual connection for an emotional bond. In fact, many of us (both men and women) use the words “think” and “feel” interchangeably at times.

Yet I’ve been learning that there’s a distinct difference for men. Men can be attracted physically and intellectually to a wonderful woman, and still not feel an emotional connection to her. They may want enjoy conversation with her, totally want to bone her and still not be drawn to her. (All this is the summary version of what I’ve learned on relationship expert Chris Carter’s site.)

As both an intelligent and highly physical women, this is a difficult concept for me to get my arms around. I never thought too much about it, because chemistry seemed to come so easily and naturally for me — and it was usually mutual. But I am beginning to understand my part in emotionally attracting men, which is to use those “I feel” statements relationship expert Rori Raye talks about. Learning to do so is forcing me to be more authentic and in the moment in all of my daily interactions, whether with men or women, in person or over the phone.

While this way of communicating is not entirely intuitive to me and I sometimes have to think about it, I like the response I’m getting. I can feel myself drawing others in. And maybe somewhere along the way I’ll draw in some special guy with some super ninja emotional magnetism!

women, men and sex

Who was it who so astutely observed that men can’t think straight until they have sex, while women think straight until they have sex?

You’ve seen the scenario play out, likely from either angle:

A man chases a woman, acting a fool, his crazy behavior driven by her complete indifference to his overtures. If he finally does achieve his goal of “nailing her,” he’s either immediately over it or caught up in a lifetime of misery.
Conversely, a woman who goes home with a complete stranger for a hot fix may well find herself having white picket fence fantasies about him and their future together the next day. (Many of us will deny we do this, but we do. And, yes, most of us are aware that it’s entirely irrational.)

The behavior in these two rather extreme examples is neither logical nor reasoned, but instead based on evolutionary survival mechanisms called instinct. Men, regardless of evolution, have a bit of needing the chase in them. This drive allowed them to survive and provide for their families and communities thousands of years ago. Women, on the other hand, are driven by a hormone called oxytocin, which is released simply through touch (and, of course, orgasm) and causes feelings of warmth, intimacy and concern. The result of these effects was women who nursed, bonded with and protected their babies — again, a basic function of survival.

So where does this leave us? Well…I’ve recently been envisioning a scenario that might look something like this:

A woman and man occasionally hang out. They are not dating, as far as they know. They enjoy each other’s company and are intrigued enough to go back for more, but neither has made an attempt to wrap any sort of meaning or parameters or definition around it. Still, more and more, they find themselves touching each other and kissing good night at the end of the evenings they spend together… Let’s imagine they find themselves becoming physically involved…they are now in the throes of a naked, steamy moment.

What is he thinking? “Awesome! This feels great! We’re having sex!”

What is she thinking? “Awesome! This feels great! He wants something deeper with me, too!” (Double entendre intended.)

These two could very well be on the same page and be thinking thoughts that ultimately end up being pretty close to each other’s meaning.

Or they could be worlds apart, with him feeling nothing more than a physical attraction to her…”friends with benefits,” as it’s commonly called (although I often prefer “sport f@%k” for its implied aggression).

So…will these two get physical? Will their intentions meet? Will they find themselves in awkward discussions before, during or after the act?

What do you think? What story line would you like to pursue? What are your views on the issue?

so, I finally got some…

It’s rather pathetic, don’t you think, that I feel the need to announce publicly each and every time I get a little action?

The lobbyist was in town, we exchanged some texts and, after scrambling for a babysitter, found time to meet for a cocktail. And when someone invites you to meet in the lobby bar of his hotel and you agree, it’s pretty much understood what’s on the agenda.

So, it was all good (not great). I was struck by noticing that it’s simple human touch that I miss the most. I just loved being kissed and caressed. But, truth be told, we’ve always had this insanely hot undercurrent of chemistry…the kind which might lead a girl to believe that a man so straight-laced and mild-mannered might be an absolute animal in the bedroom. I mean, I kind of hoped he might have really wild and kinky proclivities underneath it all. Guess what? He didn’t. He was just a straight-laced, mild-mannered guy — exactly what you see when he wears a suit.

And it was still lovely to be touched, kissed and appreciated, and to lie in a man’s arms.

do men notice or appreciate toe cleavage?

It was only a few months ago that I first heard of toe cleavage…and I thought, “is that really a thing?”

So when some girlfriends recently commented on a cute pair of shoes that highlighted my toe cleavage, I thought about it again: Do men really notice this sort of thing? And, if they do, do they find it sexy?

So my curiosity led me to take an informal poll among the few men who are regularly a part of my ongoing male-female relationship dynamic conversation. Here are their responses:

The lobbyist: “No and definitely not.” Further inquiry / pushing the issue led to “Yuk!”
Chi-guy: “No and no. I like that you are secure enough to talk about your totally weird foot fetish.” Followed by, “Actual cleavage is often noticed… Anyway, I notice kindness.” And later, “I’ll suck your toes while you whisper kind things…”
more-like-it: “I enjoy nice feet… Love to massage them…” followed by a very graphic description of a sexual position / activity to which I could only reply, “You’re naughty!”
By far the best response came from the guy in the cubicle next to me who I clearly should not have even asked (Hello HR!), but did: He nodded thoughtfully and said ever so diplomatically, “Mm-hmm. Different guys notice different aspects of a woman’s appearance to different degrees. Some guys are going to be in to feet, some are more in to other things.”

For the record, I don’t have a foot fetish myself. I’m just not grossed out by feet (as long as a certain level of hygiene is employed), and I appreciate having my own feet enjoyed. I take care to keep them looking nice, and I like having them rubbed, and I think it’s lovely when a man isn’t afraid to pay a little attention to the lowly feet and toes as a part of physical intimacy.

So, there you have it. There are men who are completely foot-phobic. And, while it’s a little, simple thing, this whole discussion clearly illustrates that the kind of guy who is grossed out by feet is not the guy for me.

have I mentioned what my mother thinks?

My mother has just popped in for a visit… I’m not sure whether I’ve explicitly mentioned this or not: my mother thinks Chi-guy rocks. Why?

Because I told her what happened in Chicago last Labor Day Weekend. I told her that I’d been flirting with a guy I’ve long known, that I was pretty sure we were going to sleep together and that, although I’d made my interest known, he patted me on the knee, told me he liked me and bid me goodnight…potentially the single most humiliating experience of my life.

Her response: “So you finally met a decent man!”

To which I might ask, “what kind of mother-f$#%ing c@#%-sucker would let a girl believe he was good to go and then turn her down?”

Even having seen a photo of “The Hammer” (yes, I’ve actually showed my mother), she thinks he must be pretty great. (Of course, anyone who’s seen the hammer thinks he’s pretty great!)

But let’s take a step back and analyze this train of thought: it would appear that my mother, who has never once met or spoken with Chi-guy, thinks he is fabulous based only on his refusal to sleep with me. Because of some weird “he liked me” whatever thing that was going on with him. Which struck me as very high school at the time.

So let’s consider the fact that most of the men in the world have not slept with me. And this fact is not due entirely to refusals, but also my own good sense. In fact, while Chi-guy might tease me about being easy, this is not entirely the case. True, I’ve been probably too honest with him about my post-divorce escapades… yet I am, in fact, very selective.

There are an awful lot of men I haven’t slept with. To be sure, I haven’t slept with most men. I haven’t even slept with most single men within in a given desirable age range and aesthetic within a five-mile radius. Does this make them all fabulous potential mates? According to my mother’s reasoning, one might think so…or perhaps it might only if they turned me down.

Chi-guy laughs at all this talk. He has suggested that I should certainly consider allowing someone else to make choices for me, given the poor judgment I’ve exhibited in the past. (But good Lord, so has my mother! And, let us remember, Chi-guy’s marriage also ended in divorce.) Were I to delve into the topic of arranged marriage, it could take several posts. So, for now, let’s just say that I will happily accept the consequences of my own choices…I think.

which is worse, hormones or tmi?

I’ve mentioned before that the 40-year-old divorcée’s libido is beyond compare. I had a few months of fun as a singleton and then decided I was over the empty, hollow physical affairs. In other words, I’ve given up casual sex in search of meaning.

But I can’t deny that lately I revisit this stance at least monthly, if not weekly. (Okay, fine, perhaps daily or hourly is more accurate.) Depending on where I am hormonally.

Again, this topic is inspired by someone I met online — or, rather, the kind of information to be found online. I liked his mind, yet I don’t anticipate seeing him again — at least not in a romantically inclined manner. Still, having had some rather openly expressive conversations and flirtatious emails, I found him sexually intriguing. He seems more experimental than most of my past lovers have been. He obliquely mentioned porn twice in approximately three conversations, as well as confessing that he’s a big fan of toys. I can’t deny having browsed through all the sex-related questions he answered as part of his profile on our dating site. It seems he has answered an abundance, compulsively…and the things he’s willing to do with his tongue are…well, let’s just say the thought excites me.

In other words, I probably know too much for my own good. I can’t help but think it would be fun — really fun — to take that knowledge and convert it into experience.

Thus, in spite of my desire to have a tender, loving, intimate relationship with genuine companionship and long-term potential, my hormones and intrigue are conspiring against me. I am actually tempted to proposition this man. Even though I know better. Even though there are many other guys who have shown far more interest in getting physical with me, rather than merely titillating banter. But, Jeez, while I’m searching for the needle in the haystack, is it really necessary to deny myself some healthy sport?

The problem is, of course, that while I’ve proven to myself that I am capable of sex free from emotional encumbrance, I think the likelihood that I could manage such an arrangement with this particular fellow is small. Who was it who observed that men can’t think clearly until they get sex, while women are capable of thinking clearly only until they have sex? At any rate, I definitely think there’s some truth in it. I’m inclined to believe I might develop feelings. So I shall try to resist the encouragement of the devil on my shoulder.

I’m not really sure whether it’s hormones, this blessed, cursed 40-year-old libido or too much graphic knowledge that’s causing me to have these thoughts. But I’d be lying if I tried to deny thinking them.