Fifty-something, Single, and Dating

Uggh. I hate the thought of going out with someone I barely know. Dating at sixty is as awful as dating at sixteen. One spends a couple of hours with a stranger, trying to be witty and amusing while conquering feelings of nervousness and wondering - "Is he as attracted to me as I am to him?" - or waiting for the date to end.

Then there's the decision to kiss him or not after that first date. Or, if you are wild for each other, when it would be appropriate to make love without looking easy or cheap. For those of us whose sex lives went from frequent or regular love-making sessions to none, this question carries some weight. At my age, I can count the number of times I've made love to a man in the past two and a half years on the fingers of one hand. Then again, I'm not as nimble as I used to be, if you get my drift. And neither is a man my age, unless he's kept up his fitness regimen. Even then, well, let's just say I am beginning to understand the charms of viagra.

My sweet niece called my one day, all excited. "Auntie Vic, she said, I think I've found you a man. He's funny, divorced, and a wonderful person. And he's 53 years old."

"Whoa," I answered, "Does he know I just turned 60?"

From experience, I know of few men who are looking for women who are older than themselves. True, most people are shocked to learn I am sixty. I look younger and behave and think like a 30-year-old, so that even my relatives are fooled into thinking that this tough old broad still has some juice in her. But I am becoming more keenly aware of my age with each year. I move more slowly, feel arthritis beginning to cripple my fingers, and can't multi-task with the efficiency I was once known for.

Which brings me to the business of looking for someone to date. I simply don't have the time, inclination, or energy these days to go shopping for a man. According to AARP magazine, "Of the 97 million Americans who are 45 or older, almost 40 percent—36.2 million—are on the loose." That's a significant number of people, but I suspect a large percent of them are women, so I would view this information with a jaundiced eye. At a social event last night in an art gallery, the number of mature women outnumbered the men by 3:1. Of the men that attended the event, almost all had arrived with a date or spouse. I didn't even bother to look for prospects but concentrated on enjoying the event with my two female friends. Ok, I'm willing to admit that most men would not be attracted to attending an evening of short story reading at an art gallery, but I've experienced the same phenomenon white water rafting or volunteering in a beer tent at a sports event. Most of the men I met at these venues were already taken.

Had someone told me six years ago that I would have been dateless in 2008 and so far in 2009, I would have called them crazy. After my divorce I was actively looking for a new relationship, but the truth was that the enormous amount of effort this took did not lead to satisfactory results. My last date was so excrutiatingly awful, with my partner talking about himself 90% of the time and evincing no interest in my hobbies or interests, that I literally counted the minutes before I could politely say goodbye. Now I prefer being by myself and calling my own shots. I look forward to a cozy evening with my loyal dog or going out with friends during the weekend. I am no longer ashamed of being single in a couple's world, and rather revel in the strange looks I get as I sit in a fancy restaurant alone, treating myself to a nice meal, and hugely enjoying my own company.

Last week I went to a place called Bark Farm and volunteered to walk rescued dogs and muck out their pens. I was surrounded by volunteers of all ages, each of them eager to help our unfortunate canine friends. Helping these abandoned creatures puts things in perspective. They are experiencing the same feelings of bewilderment and abandonment that I once felt. It breaks your heart to see these frightened and lonely pets, but you come away feeling you've done something to help alleviate their hurt. To me, such activities are more worthwhile and fulfilling than spending an evening with someone with whom I have very little in common. Sometimes I think it would be nice to find a new mate while I'm actively involved doing something I like, but I'll just chalk that up to wishful thinking.

• Read these fascinating insights about dating in Seeking Love.

• Sex and Dating After 50

• Wonder why I'm a bit cynical? Here's an AskMen.com article for you: Can 50 Year Old Divorced Guys Get Younger Women? (You might have to click on "skip this ad.")
  

Dating After 50

Dating. Uggh. I hate the term. The whole concept is new to me, even though I have been divorced for six and a half years. I met my last significant boyfriend (another term I hate) shortly after Bob and I separated. My new beau and I began a four-year relationship soon after my divorce.

Since my break up with my post-divorce beau, I have had two "pure" dates. The first was magical and it led to a short intense 3-month relationship. The second date was a disaster. The fellow met me at a strip mall Mexican Restaurant and only ordered an appetizer. Needless to say, I did not order an entree over $9.95. Since he ordered beer, I stuck with cheap wine. This gentleman had been married three times, worked the night shift at a local cigarette factory, and was living with his mother. The date lasted two hours as he nursed his one beer and I my one wine. Afterwards this man told me that I was special and that he would like to see me a second time. No thanks.

Yesterday I held a 4th of July party and invited 14 people for a cook out. One of my guests was my ex beau, the one I met shortly after my separation from Bob. We broke up two and a half years ago. He, his son, and his son's girlfriend arrived, and it was like the years fell away. My old beau stoked up the grill, his son helped to entertain the guests, and I cooked the meal. The day was so cozy and comfortable, with them moving about my house easily and interacting familiarly with my other guests. But as the day came to a close, I found myself alone with my dog.

Last night, bittersweet nostalgia swept over me. My old beau and I truly care for each other. In fact, I can honestly say I love him and miss him. He loves me too and he obviously wanted to stay. So what was the problem?

Faithfulness.

Not that I necessarily want to get married, but if I am going to sleep with a man, I expect exclusivity. And that loyalty just wasn't there. My sweet, wonderful friend is eye candy to women and he, like the Warren Beatty of old, loves them all. And that was the problem. My wonderful handsome friend is a serial monogamist. He flits from woman to woman, and is committed to one at a time, usually for two or three months or so. The fact that I lasted four years astounded our acquaintances. Oh, he's slowing down as he gets older, but he is still open to the possibilities of exploring a relationship with women he has yet to meet.

And I am too proud and fastidious to put up with that.

Because of my old beau's good looks and his sweet ways, women are drawn to him like monarch butterflies to a butterfly bush. He is irresistible. And so he has no trouble flitting. So, sadly and with regret, even though I received the invitation to, ahem, spend a splendid night of passion, I let him go home. He received my gentle no as a gentleman, not begging or playing games. Then he simply hugged me and walked away.

I let him go with only a slight pang.

We are friends. That is all. Deep, loving, mutual friends. I cannot tell you the number of times we have come to each others' rescue since our break up. This kind of friendship IS possible between a man and a woman. Don't let all the naysayers tell you it isn't. Oh, sure there are sexual overtones, and when we are seeing others (more about this later) we don't interact. But when we both are free with no significant others lurking in the background, our friendship reverts to the easy old ways. It took us a year to arrive at this juncture, and it took some mental gymnastics on my part. But when a friend of mine wisely counseled me that life is too short to lose someone you truly love and respect, her words freed me.

At this stage of my life I would rather spend time with a dear friend than with a stranger who is a lousy date. It is that simple. Oh, and lest you think I am a fool for love, we rarely communicate with or see each other. Only when it counts.

So, as you begin to date again, remember that not all the men you meet are going to be potential spouses. Some are a lousy date. Some are potential mate material. And some will simply make the best friend you will ever have.