Last night I saw a short piece on the public television station about boomers dating. Two women, one a sociologist, the other a former LA Fox News somebody (now with her own something as “cool” as Fox but not them) and a male therapist were talking about what dating is like after 55.
The therapist said, yes, at first, the men are mainly interested in sex. Jeez, I had no idea. The host said that his recently singled friend had joined an online dating network. His friend (described as late 50s) found a woman he really connected with. They exchanged emails and talked on the phone; the host said the friend was very enthusiastic about this woman until he saw her photo. He stopped writing; she lost twenty pounds and sent him a new photo with email. The host goes on to beam that last week he attended their wedding.
I went to the refrigerator to find something to swallow other than this crap.
The sociologist says you have to forget the body issues and ask yourself what you want more: love or loneliness. She said that the body stuff after fifty is bullshit (okay she said something else, but that was the gist) and then went on to say that women with mastectomies have found love and been able to bare their bodies and have sex. So we should all “get over it” (this time I am not paraphrasing).
Still nothing good in the fridge.
Is it me, or is there a weird kind of disconnect here? I just heard that fat caused a near miss in the love department, missing breasts are no reason women cannot have sex (and presumably love) and that if women fear the body rejection issues that complicate dating we should just grow up and get over it.
Fat is immoral.
Women with mastectomies have terrible scars: physical, emotional, maybe spiritual. They have bodies that are ravaged and potentially unappealing to men, but through no fault of their own. Those bodies are not corrupt through any depravity of their own making. There it is. The rub.
Fat is evil and it is my fault. My most grievous fault. I have not learned how to tame my feelings and my fat by thrashing my body around in a gym and starving myself. Those who do not have this blight, this shame, have no idea how much hearing about the man who loved the woman who lost weight hurts. And enrages.
I am over 55. I am lonely. And fat. And I don’t think that someone who can only love me if I lose twenty pounds is worth being with. Why did everyone on that panel think that was a win for that woman? The statistics say that she will gain that twenty back and more, especially if she is over fifty, but the thing is she won’t. This woman will do what women have been doing for as long as I can remember: make herself appealing for a man.
Ah, there’s cookies in the cupboard!