More dating reflections

Picture the scene, there we are five women in our forties preparing to go out on the town. They are discussing their makeup (what a fortune they spend). Honestly to me they are in danger of looking like trannies the amount of makeup they slap on.

But apparently they are still trading on their looks. Many of them have been brought close to bankrupcy by divorce so, whilst pretending to "love the single life" they go out, throw back their peroxide manes and attempt to attract someone who will truly love and respect them.

They are not settling for second best. No siree many of them have been in emotionally abusive relationships, they have been betrayed.

How life deals such a double whammy at this age. Clearly having been holed up in these (often lonely) marriages for so long has not prepared we women for life. And now, alone in out 40s we resort to the behaviour we used before our marriages to meet someone new. We dress up, we flirt and we put ourselves out there. We also put-out I believe in the hope of being loved. But the landscape has changed. Out there are a mix of;

(1) playboys (like Neil) who have spent their entire adult life cruising for sex and have got very good at manipulating the numerous women in their life to believe they are happy to be fuck-buddies.

(2) Fresh divorcee's who aspire to (1) because they have spent 20 years in a loveless marriage also, and aren't about to be caught again.

And here is what occurs to me; I am not bankrupt, broken and abused, and I do not need to snare a meal ticket and thus, I want no part of this.

My relationship with men is analogous to my relationship with glasses of wine. Sometimes I crave a nice one with a meal, but if I let myself be drawn in, and overindulge, I wake up feeling wretched, and I am starting to believe it is better for my mental and physical health to abstain.

You'll never walk alone

Last Wednesday I set out on my bicycle to my friends house, about 5 miles away for an evening with the girls, it was a lovely warm evening, and the bunny rabbits were hopping in the long grass as I took the path across the common and down by the river in a secluded spot behind the golf course. When I came to ride home in the dark, it was a different matter. I heard every fox rustling in the undergrowth and every cow ruminating and shifting its bulk as I took off across the meadow on a damp moonless night with only the rasping of my ancient dynamo light on my bike to light my way. In a word I was petrified. I was so delighted to finally get home around 11.30pm I nearly kissed the earth.

Then two days later I was driving to the doctors when a song came on the radio "You'll never walk alone" sung by Siphiwo Ntshebe. He was going to sing at the world cup but died of menigitis. He was in his early 30s and a magnificent African tenor. As I listened my eyes filled with tears. That Siphiwo has been taken from us, and that I feel as though I am very much walking alone as I return to the other side of the world to carry on my life, away from my family. In fact it feels very much like plunging into that dark, dark forest with all its unknown assailants and associated terror.

Taking Flight

I won't bore you with the legal wrangles, but it seems I am in a corner where I have to give up home (the beloved first home I ever owned) to my ex, and sell it at a loss, since the cost of recouping my investment is greater than the investment itself.

It occurs to me that this is the first time in my life I have voluntarily given up something I love. I mean I, as and adult, have personally taken this decision to give it away.

I searched for analogies of where this happens to people

• A teenage mother giving up her baby in the 1960s
• A woman having her breasts removed because she is at risk of breast cancer though she does not already have it
• prosperous Jews, Palestinians, Turks, Greeks, Armenians, Hootus and Tutsis, who fled their homes and businesses
• Young people in love who are separated when their parents move cities
  
• A couple deciding to abort a much wanted but fatally flawed unborn baby
  

These are all more severe than my situation, but the thing they have in common is that the alternative is worse. Human nature being what it is though, in about half the cases it is because of aggression, intolerance, or disrespect that the alternative is worse.

In my case the alternative is to have a protracted battle with an abusive, disrespectful, manipulative ex partner.

Divorce challenges self image

Dan's marriage, as I hinted in my last post, has broken down.

As we left the meeting we had this cathartic conversation. He, like me had emigrated to be with his wife. He understood the challenges to self image that divorce brings especially when you are not in your home country.

"I am not the sort of person to get divorced"
"I am not the sort of person who emigrates"

I often liken it to being a small boat that was towed out to sea and abandoned (next to a hostile oil rig). My husband was the tug boat, and now he is holed up on that oil rig.

Like me there are children on Dan's boat, so even if he could brave the storm and get the boat home, he would be taking the children away from what they know. There is no choice but to stay nearby and weather the storm.

Changing partners in the 5th Age

Last month I met an old friend Dan at a work function. The last time I'd seen him he was happily married with teenage kids. I, on the other hand, was going through my divorce. I was jealous of his seemingly perfect life.

Around that time, A mutual friend and colleague of ours, Terry, had left his wife of 35 years for a younger woman. Terry exchanged a long stable marriage for a high maintenance wife who had been single for a long time herself, she has many idiosyncrasies of her own. Worse she appears to expect Terry to worship her whilst seemingly loving her cats more than him.

Last month Dan and I were making light of all this. Having moved in with a new partner myself in the interim period since we last met, and, as you know dear bloggy friends, having had all sorts of horrible dramas and wake up calls, I felt emboldened.

"Terry" I said "should watch out. Changing partners in late mid life is a dangerous thing to do"

"It's is like moving house" I continued "You keep walking into doors, you don't know where the light switches are"

Dan is very funny, quick as a flash he replied "Yes, and in Terry's case its a haunted house".



My experience is also confusing. Although I don't think my house is haunted, there are trip wires and I never know when I am going to set something off.

I wouldn't say don't do it. What I would say is if possible check out the house before you move in. Look for something comfortable, and modern and easy to maintain.