Is There Sex After 60? (Navigating Single Life After 60)

HELP ME!!!! Boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, am I ever tired of being good.  I am sick of being GOOD.  Not just good but, too sickeningly sweet, kind, thoughtful, and nice.  WHY am I like this?  I am bored, of being, me.  How totally wrong is that???  I bore myself being so good.  Why do I care so much about everyone else even when it is to my detriment?  I am not the only one like this.  I know there are women that care too much.  NOT ALL WOMEN but a lot of women and maybe a lot of women who are over sixty.  We care too much about everyone and everything.

 Do you worry about offending everyone and anyone?  I do. I even try to be really nice and understanding to people I don’t like.  I really don’t hate anyone.   There are people I find dull or not interesting, there are even a few people who have been really nasty or mean or thoughtless to me and I still smile and I try to be polite and kind and understanding when we meet.   WHY?  What am I afraid of?  Why do I care if a terrible, stupid, creepy person likes me or not?  Why should I care?  A few times in the last 15 years I have had to work with some really awful, horrible, terrible, people.  Somehow I managed to smile and I tried to rise above the nasty creepiness of the whole situation.  There have been good reasons.  I needed to work and make money so that I could keep my family alive, with a roof over our heads and food on the table.  That makes some sense.

There are a lot of reasons for me to be sick and tired of me.  I have been too nice for too long to people who don’t really deserve my thoughtfulness and kindness.  This has placed me in difficult situations for a long, long, time.  Why don’t I stand up for myself more often?  I don’t know?

For most of my life, I have worried about everyone.  What about me?  When do I count for something?   If I disagree with you so what?  I am always doing my best to make everyone happy.  I try not to upset or disappoint anyone.  Who am I trying to be Mother Theresa?

Somehow I missed the whole WILD REVOLUTION of the ’60s and ’70s, sexual and otherwise.  Everyone else was out having a marvelous time having sex with tons of people and drinking and taking drugs and protesting while I was finishing my term papers and too afraid of what everyone in the world was thinking about me.  “Hello, no one was thinking about you!

I will tell you a little story about an unusual moment that happened to me one morning when I arrived at the dining hall when I was in college.  I had what I guess people have labeled, an out-of-the-body experience.  It should have been a life-changing experience however it didn’t change me.  I had been studying for exams and I had been up maybe all night?  As I picked up my tray and placed a dish or two on the tray I walked over to one of the long tables at the cafeteria and sat down with a group of my friends.  All of a sudden I was sitting on a beam on the top of the hall looking down at myself.  I looked at ME sitting at the table and I was disgusted.  I saw the real me, too afraid, too shy, too worried, too kind, too sweet.  I guess the other side of me, who was sitting on the beam, was looking down at that poor dumb college student below.  The strong version of me was shaking her head at the poor girl sitting at the table.  This all took about 5 seconds and zap I was back in my body.  I know this sounds crazy but it happened.  So one part of me (the strong personality) thinks the good version is ridiculous.  Is that the ego and the id that our friend Sigmund Freud was telling us about so long ago?

This last week has been difficult.  I am a little tired of being good.  Am I going to change? I doubt it.   Or maybe, just maybe, when we very sweet, kind, loving, caring people have had enough, maybe we might be worse than anyone could imagine.  Or not.   We might just keep smiling, not complaining, and worrying about everyone else’s feelings.

If I could go back in time one thing I would do that I didn’t do one cold night when I was in college.  One evening after all of my friends had a spontaneous snowball fight in front of the boy’s dorm, we all broke into the swimming pool next to the gym.  Kids took off most of their clothes and jumped into the pool.  What did I do?  I didn’t take off my clothes and I didn’t jump in.  If I could go back in time, I would jump in, clothes or no clothes.

Until Next Time…