I've learned to eat alone in public. Weekdays are better than weekends. But I still feel self-conscious.
A silver-haired man my age sat at the bar eating and drinking. Everytime his eyes roamed in my direction they passed over me. They always landed on the 30-something women. I look good for my age and looked halfway decent last night, especially my hair. But to most men I've become another invisible middle-aged woman who resembles their ex-wife or their mother.
My invisibility has reached a point where I just want to walk over to a man like that and shout: GROW UP! Give women your age a chance. LOOK AT US! But of course that won't happen.
Silly men. None of you know what you're missing. I'm fabulous, self-supporting, know a few tricks in bed, and can be uproariously fun and funny. But you've passed up another opportunity to find that out. I've stopped trying to be "available." If I'm interested in a man, I'll let him know by a look or a gesture. But I'm 57 years old, and my dry spell has lasted for over a year.
These days I'm concentrating on being with family and friends. I'm also learning to be my own best friend. What a revolutionary thought.