Dating after 60 - A Social, Intellectual, Spiritual and Physical Experience

I made my bed, then made my coffee all the while thinking about this man I’ve been out with four times. Lunches, walks, dinner, antiquing, kissing, caressing, making out, no sex, so to speak. As I pulled up the comforter, I thought of the lively and thoughtful conversations, as I fluffed the pillows, I thought of the no sex, so to speak, and, as I made coffee, a sense of loneliness rushed through me. In a moment, the fun, the pheromones and the rudeness of reality collided.

My reality contains the years of finding plumb emotionally after ill-fated relationships, righting myself financially from near-bankruptcy, finding comfort in my independence and contentment in my interests. I live intentionally. I pay attention to and regularly assess the elements of wellbeing… my spiritual-creative, physical, social, intellectual, emotional, financial wellness. I say this to make a case that I work from my head about my heart… except, when it comes to dating, which does not fit neatly into any element of wellness. 

The loneliness is the chasm between my intentional investment in being whole without needing someone else, and wanting someone else to share my investment. 

Talking relationshipping with Ashley, my sage, thirty-two year old hairdresser, she advises me to be myself.  After sixty-four years, however, there is so much of myself to be! And, to connect myself with someone who, (must be) equally as full of a life and interested in sharing their investment in themselves, exponentially compounds the amount to be unsheltered. I find myself exhausted in the very idea, yet more wanting as more is revealed, and less capable as I realize the extent of the challenge I've created. 

My extrovert social self is gleeful in meeting new people. My spiritual is fed by learning more and deepening intimacy. With curiosity, the intellectual continues to probe and find connections and meaning... more intimacy. The physical offers stamina, connection and in some cases, a sexual response; and that god-damn-it, throws the whole, well intentioned, intellectual thing off kilter. 

The chasm narrows and deepens as tectonic plates shift. I started the oatmeal.