Breaking up is hard to do......

At any age.

I find myself in the silliest situations, even though one would think that I had learned enough by now to avoid the yawning potholes of life.

Again, one would be wrong.

Why would a woman of my age, the age at which she just got her first social security check, find herself writing a blog about "breaking up"?

Yet, that woman is me. 

The breakup happened several months ago, but the ripples from that unfortunate event only finished gurgling within the past couple of weeks.

The problem, I guess, is that I have this notion that decency is possible even AFTER a relationship ends. That two people who have been intimate can continue to maintain a positive connection once the intimacy is over. (I will show my age here a bit by confessing that I've never moved from a relationship to a "friends with benefits" configuration. I do keep my options open at all times, though.)

I believe that life is too short to collect bad karma by collecting enemies along the journey of life. And I've managed that in most cases. But this last one, not so much, although I have tried.

We broke up (at my instigation) and agreed to remain friends.  We still have common interests, like college football, music, and eating out in memorable places. Why not continue to share those interests? Only one of us really meant it, though. Again, silly me.

I even reached out after a period of time and, upon my invitation, we attended a musical event along with dinner, a friendly occasion on a Sunday afternoon. I thought he needed to actually see how this could work and he agreed.....at the table. But, once we went our separate ways, he continued to keep those ways very separate. The door slammed and hasn't opened again.

And since this is the only configuration he seems to know after a relationship split, I gave him what he wanted all along: another "ex" to add to a string of similar beads. 

Maybe I'm naive. But I still think it's just sad.

GAME OVER

Shock and awe.......

 “I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”

Douglas Adams

As a woman who is aging to perfection, steeped in the wine of time, I am still often shocked--well after I thought there was nothing left to rattle me--as well as in awe of the vagaries of the human race. Some things I know.......

• New jeans with holes up and down the legs, hanging on the rack in the department store, must be an attempt to make us look mindless. 

• When we were 16, a boy who was even 5 years older was taboo. That chasm was huge and not to be crossed on penalty of irate parents, scandalized neighbors, and the law. By the time we were 25, those 5 years had shrunk and they no longer made much difference. In fact, they added a bit of texture to a relationship. But I bet you didn't know that the same 5 years stretch again at the other end of the age spectrum, causing all kinds of mischief for us in our 60s, 70s, and older. Take my word for it.....it isn't pretty. Because.......

•   ....men of all ages want younger women. They just do. The problem is that those men hanging onto the right end of the timeline have difficulty keeping up with a woman younger than they are. In many important ways. And men younger than that same woman aren't interested, because--remember?--they want someone younger, too. Where does that leave me? I'll tell you where: women of a certain age who want a full, true relationship are stranded on that timeline, searching both ends of the spectrum. Alone. 

• Which leads me to this: I should have protected, nurtured, and cherished some of my earlier relationships so I wouldn't be stuck on this darn timeline at all.

• You can enjoy gospel or religious music without believing a word of it. There's just something joyous about it, isn't there?

•  I refuse to listen to any song that has the word "chainsaw" in it. It's just not right.

•  Why do many men refrain from using poor grammar until AFTER you've become invested as a couple? Maybe it's a sign they are truly comfortable with us, their new love. I could stand a little less comfort. Please.

•  When a man agrees in advance to "talk about things that bother us" as you launch a new relationship, his mouth is merely moving.

That's what I know.....at least for now!

It's all about "the pick".......

Marriage is not about age; it's about finding the right person.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/s/sophiabush197197.html#LmHtEiAUBA6FbuEb.99

 

 

 

Marriage is not about age; it's about finding the right person.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/s/sophiabush197197.html#LmHtEiAUBA6FbuEb.99

"Marriage is not about age; it's about finding the right person."

Sophia Bush

 

 

 



Oh, so correct.

 

I have finally come to understand that it's all about "the pick," whether it's marriage or any other long-term relationship.  Once you have thought about who YOU are and what you want in a partner, the search is on. But it's critical to have that  dialogue with yourself first.

 

This is where I always made my fatal errors, at least fatal to the longevity of my relationships. (Heck, if you add them all together, I have a great track record!) I am seduced by the fancy trappings of courtship, by the attention..... by the "sell." I should have been more thoughtful about what happens after the shiny gloss fades, who I wanted to stand next to me when the world hands out an unexpected hardship, a job loss, errant children, all of the chaos that slithers under the front door just when we think we have it all.

 

I realize now that I had no explicit instruction on how to do this. The sad part is that now that I have learned it, the window of opportunity for me to build a long-term, steadfast relationship with a partner has slammed shut. Hard enough to  break the casement in the process. That time can never be swept back up in the dustpan to be used again. Never.

 

And that IS sad.

 

I won't ever know the joy of sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch to look at pictures (yes, real glossy photographs pasted in a scrapbook) of our wedding day or our first car, first pet, first child, first grandchild.

 

I haven't built a history with someone who stood by me when that health scare struck (the one when I drove myself to the hospital for the biopsy). There is no shared frame of reference for not making the same mistakes with one child that we made with the first one. When one of us loses the ability for physical intimacy, the option of walking away isn't an option at all. The " pick" laid the foundation. And then it's about making the commitment  more than words.

 

I know two young women who are currently planning their weddings. I wish someone had told me all of this when I was 22, fresh out of college and about to marry. For the first time.

 

If someone had, maybe I would be getting ready to celebrate my 43rd anniversary.

 

Instead, I'm back at "the pick."

 

 



Bringing home the bacon.....

Murky, murky, murky. Life just gets less and less transparent as the years go by. Highly inconvenient, I must admit.

I might have thought....if I had thought about it at all.....that age and the accompanying maturity would lend itself to knowing the answers a litte faster or easier than when we clattered around in our 20s or 30s. Maybe even longer depending on some folks' inability to learn from mistakes.

I'm a very independent woman, a state that is a result of both my personality as well as the circumstances of my life. Raising children on your own will do that, believe me. You learn quickly that there are few people you can truly rely on, maybe even having the axiom, "If you want something done right, do it yourself" stenciled on your living room wall. In bright red.

But the longer you live within that bubble of self-sufficiency the less it appears that you need anyone else or their help for anything at all. Many women build walls that are strong and often tower over those (and I mean men, of course) who get too close, either inadvertantly or with good intentions of being useful.

Soon we begin to believe it ourselves, the fact that we don't need anyone, we can take care of ourselves, thank you very much, so everyone needs to stand back behind that solid concrete wall, that one that we erected over the years for protection.

But the problem is that we DO need each other in lots of ways that have nothing to do with one gender being "weaker" or "stronger."  It has to a lot to do with the undeniable symbiosis inherent in being human in our culture, and less to do with gender inequities that still exist whether we like to think so or not.

I can carry on successfully by myself.....if we're measuring success by dollars and cents. Our culture, though, sometimes traps both men and women into identity roles that we don't even notice after a while. We're so used to clutching either our independence or our deeply ingrained sense of role tightly to our chests that we miss each other completely. The fact that I could support myself was not the same as not needing anything.

I didn't need a man to pay my bills or "bring home the bacon" but I did need someone to support me emotionally. Life is hard, and it is nice to have a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold as we face the storms together.

Rather than being constrained by the male/female roles of weak vs strong that still slither around the edges of our society, maybe we should just all relax and be human instead. I can ask for help without threatening my independence, and it can be offered without fear of being rebuffed as sexist.

I used to think this was all so clear.

"Limits exist only in the mind."

 

A-HA!

It seems that we're never too old for an "A-HA!" moment. I had one hit me between the eyes the other day, right in the middle of a conversation. I was carrying on of my near-monologues with a new person in my life. Oh, he talks to me, there's no problem with that. We talk a lot. It's just that I have a tendency toward philosophical discourse and I sometimes verbally follow the thread of my  mental gyrations while my audience sits and waits it out.

Maybe that's why I have a change purse that says it all, right there printed on the side in bright colors: "Consider me a challenge!"

And that was the topic of our conversation. Relationships. Hunkering down for the long haul. Navigating the passageways flowing between two people who have already seen a lot, if not all there is to experience when someone catches another's attention.

Marriage and I have been bedmates a couple of times (pun intended, we need to have fun where we can in life), but not successful companions, I admit. I CAN be a challenge, although I'm also kind, patient, and loving. And we were talking about that when I said, "I'm just me, and I don't apologize for that any more."

Too many times we get involved with someone, all is well at first, and then we start trying to change that person to fit some mold we have in our heads of the "perfect" man or woman for us.

What's up with that, anyway? 

Two people come together for a reason, some traits that tickled the fancy initially. And then, over time, we start noticing things we wish were different. But we shouldn't be in a relationship to change the other person, or to be changed by them. If that becomes part of the deal, we need to keep looking.

But then it hit me: I can't change the other person, nor should I want to, BUT I can try to be the best version of me that I can possibly be. I like this person....a lot.....so why shouldn't I want to please him as much as possible? Won't that end up pleasing me, too?

I know my strengths, but I also am very familiar with my weaknesses, those characteristics that do not play out well in close proximity to other people.

For example, I know exactly when I cross the line from involved to controlling. My brain also can now monitor my mouth whenever I choose to do so, instead of watching in horror as I say things that cut deep, only regretting them, too late, as the blood from the wound flows around our feet.

Our skin may wrinkle, our memory may weaken, but it seems we always have the capacity to see new paths open up in front of us. Mine hit me squarely between the eyes with a mighty "A-HA!" that can improve my life in many ways. I'm not interested in changing HIM, but I certainly can improve ME in ways that I know are already there inside.

It is never too late to be who

you might have been.

George Eliot

Fool me once.....

Dr. Phil irritates me. My DVR list used to be chock full of episodes of his show, and I was usually glued to the television as he put addicts and philandering spouses in their places. Usually some kind of rehab paid for by the facilities as a form of advertising that we’re not supposed to notice. At least my life wasn’t a total train wreck compared to the guests sitting on his stage, I thought as I watched. But over time he grates, doesn’t he? He’s pompous and loud and acts pretty superior to the rest of us. He and Robin in all their wealth and glamour get a bit too much in these days of so many people in need. Maybe I'm just jealous.

            So, now my DVR records lighter programming, like Family Feud. At least everyone in those families is giggling and slapping hands over their silly answers full of innuendo, instead of slapping each other with paternity suits. Come to think of it maybe it’s really the same thing, just with a funnier host.

            There is one gem of wisdom from Dr. P that remains tucked in my psyche, I have to admit.

            “Past behavior is a predictor of future behavior.” I pull that one out often and polish it up for my daughter and other young people. It’s a good one to carry around in your pocket, I’ve found.  Generally, if someone has betrayed your trust once, it stretches the limits of wisdom if you hand it over to them a second time, for example.

            “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…..” and all that, you know.

            Yes, you there in the back of the room. You have a question? Oh, you want to know why I’m channeling Dr. Phil and his wisdom today?  You all know me well by now, don’t you?

            Someone from my past has reappeared, someone whose eyes still have the capability of consuming me and burning me to a crisp. As they did once before, when I trusted his passionate pursuit and words of commitment and caring. My world literally glowed then, taking on the hue of FOREVER, a word he gently handed to me like an elegantly wrapped gift. A word I was heartbreakingly receptive to at that point in time.

            FOREVER apparently came from a different dictionary for him, as you probably have guessed by now. It ended ugly, let’s leave it at that. Therapy was required. My world collapsed. As did I for over a year. I went to work, I moved through my days with my pain undetected  by most people, but I was a shell of a woman who had had everything promised only to have it snatched away in an instant. And then given to someone else. Someday I’ll share the rest of the story, but I can only stare at it, even today, for short periods of time.

            And here he is again. In my younger, more foolish days, I would have been tempted. Oh, shoot, let me be honest. I’m still tempted. I’m human. And to make it even more dangerous, I am alone. I have no idea what he is thinking, but that isn't the point. I don't care. I know my own capabilities, I know my ability to laser in on a goal, my singlemindedness.  And I know my weaknesses better now, too, such as my tendency to be motivated by a challenge, which sounds like a good thing. But sometimes it isn't. Take my word for it.

            But Dr. Phil’s words have been buzzing around, trying to protect me from myself, tapping me sharply on the shoulder, and thumping my forehead when I start thinking, “Well, maybe this time…..”

            It’s this simple: If someone betrays your trust once, they will do it again. I believe this.

           There won’t be any fooling me twice.

“Trust is like a vase.. once it's broken, though you can fix it the vase will never be same again.”

Don't laugh at...or lie to...a lover

As I've told you before, relationships haven't been my strong suit over the years. I'll be the first to admit that. However, that doesn't mean I haven't learned a lot from them. Relationships, I mean. I guess that's one thing about getting older. Our experiences become cumulative and have more depth over time.

Some of those lessons learned were easily acquired. Like, it's not a good idea for the health of a relationship to laugh at someone who is trying to explain how they feel. If you make that mistake more than once, peace be with you, because you're going to have a rough road keeping your bed warm on a cold night.

Or that lies have a way of rebounding, kind of like a billiard ball that doesn't drop where you thought it was going. It just keeps bouncing around, hitting things. Usually you.

I've made small mistakes, as well as some huge ones. Some have cost me dearly. But the most interesting, and I believe most valuable, lessons have shown me what I am capable of as an individual. For example, only recently have I been able to write about the most devastating relationship I ever had. It's a sad, strange story, believe me. One that no novelist could ever make up. I had to see a therapist for a short time to process exactly what had happened. And the therapist handed me a gift when I was ready to head out on my own again.

That gift? "No matter how painful this experience was for you, at least now you know the passion you're capable of."  Needless to say, I didn't look at the situation that way for a long time. I was too busy tending to my shredded soul. For years.

Relationships can be excruciating. They can bring immense joy. Often both. At the same time. 

Sometimes they last. Other times they simply don't. People hurt one another and get hurt in return. But I believe there are always lessons there somewhere. And the older we get, the more we're open to the instruction that results. 

And time truly does heal. I have the scars to prove it.

Some people come into our lives and quickly go.  Some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same.  ~Flavia Weedn, Forever, ©

Life ain't no country song.....

I went through a period in my life when I believed country music songs, especially the ones twanging on about love. Lost love, found love, misplaced love, angry love, miraculous love, love that makes you want to rip your clothes off and ......well, whatever. I felt so left out. At one point, I would have even settled for lost love since you've got to have it first before you misplace it.

The surprising part of all this is that I did all this yearning not very long ago in the scheme of my life. I guess I was so busy working myself to death during the time my daughter was growing up that my dreams were filled with exhausted sleep instead of all those lyrics in love songs. I remember having nightmares about all my teeth falling out because any dental care in my house was going to my daughter's braces. I certainly wasn't dreaming about dancing half-naked in the sand with a tall, muscled man offering me a glass of champagne and a lifetime of being taken care of. Sigh......

But I went through a few years in my 40s and early 50s when I asked, Where the heck is that beach, anyway? If I could only find it, all would be well, right? Well, I won't go into details about how that image was finally laid to rest, but suffice it to say that I dug a huge hole when I was slapped silly back into reality and I buried the darn thing.

I guess the lesson here is that we each take our own paths through life. There isn't a one size fits all template about where, and when, love fits. All I know is that when my eyes start to glaze over these days, I turn the radio off.

 To succeed in life, you need three things: a wishbone, a backbone and a funnybone.

Reba McEntire

Dealing the cards and moving on...

I've been avoiding this topic. It is a landmine, one that I have stepped in several times myself, and have recently decided to tiptoe around. Meaning avoid at all costs.

Relationships as an "older" woman.......I'm sitting here with my fingers on the keyboard and can't even finish that sentence. Someone told a group recently that he had been married for 25 years. If you add them all together. Me, too.

I won't go into the 40+ years of my relationship history, because that's not my point here. The landmine I'm tippy toeing around at 62 is dating. It even sounds silly, doesn't it? Yes, I tried the on-line dating thing, starting when I was around 50. And I have to say that I met some very nice men and went out on lots of dates. I observed the rules of safety inherent in this scene, and can only remember one time that my evening got a bit dicey, but it was because I broke one of those rules. The whole process led to an 8 year relationship that ended two years ago. Another 8 to add to the total number of years "joke."

All the advice about meeting people in ordinary, everyday places didn't work so much, either. I met a man in a video store once, and we went out for dinner. Where he proceeded to relate his history as a mercenary, and how he once bit off someone's toe. (I am NOT making this up! I called a cab.)

I joined a church, hoping to meet someone there. Couples, kids, picnics for couples and kids doing kids' things. Loud, noisy, reflective of my own years as the mother of a child involved in every sport imaginable. But not where I am today.

Then there was the Saturday a clown sat next to me on a bench and hit on me. No....a REAL clown. Honest.

So, here I am again. However, at this point, I have come to some hard-won conclusions. I'll explain it this way: My parents were married for 67 years, together since they were 15 or so. Just think of all the problems they faced together, most dealing with outside forces, but some within their relationship, too. It's just inevitable that two people will disagree over the span of all those years. They raised a family and built memories and shared experiences to clasp tightly to their joined hearts.....especially during the bad times.

They had a bond that secured them, in every meaning of that word. They were secure in their love and in their history together. And it probably didn't happen overnight or even always easily. But it eventually bound them together for life.

I will never have that. It just isn't possible that two people who meet when they are over 60 years old CAN have that foundation. They might be companions, people who can sit next to one another in a theater or at the dinner table to chase away the shadows of loneliness, the shadows that sometimes grow teeth and creep in close to those who are alone. But the tethers stretched over decades like my parents? Just not possible.

And for my purposes now as a single woman over 60, it is even more difficult to find someone who is willing to look at a "dating" site and see past the years etched on my face. Our youth-drenched culture makes it nearly impossible. My experience has been that most men over 60 themselves are simply not willing to match themselves with a woman their own age. We can't blame this on my unwillingness to look at THEIR photos and agree to meet for a drink, either. I think I have a bit more depth than to judge someone unworthy due to their appearance, especially when I'm squinting at a computer screen while trying to gauge someone's character.

Many women are terrifed of being alone as they grow older, and are thus willing to adapt (maybe I should say settle?) for any relationship, even a bad one. I had to make that decision a couple of years ago, and what I realized is that the statistics dictate that many women WILL be alone no matter what they do or don't do within the realm of being a couple. Men just die sooner than we do. My decision, then, was to reinforce the relationship I have with myself.

Do I wish I had strung all those years of broken relationships together? Taken more time and insight and effort to making it work, like my parents did? Of course. There are some lessons here for younger women, if they care to learn from my story.

But here I am and my belief is that I will run the rest of this race alone. I have worked my way around the landmines (and clowns) and left them behind.

And I've found that I'm pretty good company!

 Sometimes the cards we are dealt are not always fair.

However you must keep smiling & moving on ~

Tom Jackson