Family
I'm 70-Something and Wanted By 90-Something Men
What I really need is a nice, intelligent younger man.
Kiersten Essenpreis
As a recent widow, I have started talking about men with my friends. Well, actually, we’ve been talking about the opposite sex all our lives.
First, it was boys. Those hot, sexy teenagers who revved up our libidos and wiped out brain cells, making us think the bad boy was the right boy.
Then we talked about young men. The ones who could make good fathers and husbands. As well as intellectual partners. And of course, could pleasure us in bed.
Decades into our marriages, we talked about those husbands who failed the test of time and those who were meant to be partners for the rest of time.
And now, as a 78-year-old widow, I’m looking at single men again. Only this time instead of that hot teenage boy with tight thighs and a firm bulge giving me that look and getting me excited, 90-year-old men are ogling over me. And there is no word strong enough to express how unexcited that makes me.
Don’t get me wrong. Elderly men can still be attractive. Especially to the older woman they have been with for the past 40 years or more. The young boy she fell in love with is still under that slow walk, the age spots and never-ending wrinkles.
But I have no desire to search for him. Yet, I do have desires and needs. What I really need is a handsome, intelligent 60-year-old! If Cher can date a younger man, why can’t I?
I’ll tell you why.
I’m not a famous celebrity or a wealthy rancher. Between fame and fortune there are a lot of road maps to follow for love. But most will not lead a 60-year-old man to the back door of a 78-year-old woman.
Even though there is a silver lining to dating someone my age.
Instead of world cruises or paparazzi, I can offer experience as my husband and I had a very healthy sex life, until we didn’t have one at all.
So, until I can claim cougar status, I talk to those elderly men. And, honestly, some are quite nice. They even remember they had talked to me the last time we met at the gym pool or at my local Starbucks. Some are lonely and really all they want is conversation with a lively “young” woman. And it is nice to be called “young.”
But I’d like more than a casual conversation. I’d like a companion. Someone with whom to share meals, movies and more.
Some of my widowed friends have begun dating again. They are using apps, swiping left and right. I’d have to really concentrate because I often get my left and right mixed up. And it seems so impersonal to me. I’d rather sit at a bar or restaurant, looking right and left for an eligible man.
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The last time I dated, there were no cell phones, apps or likes. After casual conversation in a bar or at a party, I’d give out my phone number, and pray the guy liked me enough to call. Waiting was not easy. It meant sitting by a phone attached to a long cord plugged into the wall. After necessary trips to work, I would hurry home. The blinking of the answering machine would speed up my heart rate, only to have it fall to my feet at the sound of my mom checking in.
This time around, there aren’t fraternity parties or after work “happy hours” to attend, unless you count the social hour at retirement homes and senior centers. Happy hour at those places generally starts around 4 p.m., and I may be a card-carrying senior, but I still keep middle-aged hours.
It’s becoming apparent apps may be my only choice.
I would post the best photo I could find of myself. Unfortunately, none of the “Goodbye Eye Bags” lotion or “anti-aging” magic potions collecting dust on my bathroom shelf have lived up to their promise.
I would paint an honest profile of, hoping for honesty on the other end. In addition to a man with a sense of humor and adventurous attitude, I have one other requirement. I would like a man who doesn’t require suspenders to keep up his pants.
If nothing comes from it, there is always “the friend of a friend of a friend” introduction.
It has been brought to my attention that there exists an interesting gentleman who had a similar experience as mine, dealing with Hoyer lifts, the apparatus used to lift a person out of bed and the administering of daily meds. It’s a far cry from talking about weightlifting at Muscle Beach and the effects of a hallucinogenic substance. But it is important to have things in common.
I don’t see myself getting married again. But having a relationship would be nice.
When I look in the mirror, I may see an older woman, but I feel young inside. I have a strong heartbeat, a positive attitude and the need to live the rest of my life to the fullest.
I’d love to be a cougar, but I’ll settle for a nice, healthy, smart, handsome 60- or 70-something man.
That might be asking for a lot. But that girl who talked about hot, sexy boys is still inside me. And she doesn’t want to settle for anything less.
Have any of YOU dated later in life? Let us know in the comments below.
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