I am forty-two years old, happily divorced, independent and living single.
If such a man is out there for me, I certainly haven’t found him yet.
I have met many incarnations, clones and horrible copies of men over the years. I’ve met Mr. Wrong too many times to count. Mr. I-Can’t-Commit, Mr. Liar-and-Cheat, Mr. Smooth-Talker and Mr. Narcissist are all different personalities of Mr. Wrong. Sadly, I hate to admit I’ve met a Mr. Wrong with all the personalities in full effect.
Ever since I first became sexually active, I’ve had the tendency to have secret love affairs with men – lots of flings and flirtation-ships with single and unfortunately sometimes attached and married men.
Am I the dreaded other woman? I have been, sometimes without the knowledge that I played that role. Perhaps my current lack of finding a suitable male companion is my karma for these times I shared time with attached and married men.
I teeter between living a deviant life and wanting a normal, healthy relationship. I’ve even waxed poetic about finding a happy medium between both worlds. I’m not sure that kind of man even exists.
Being alone wasn’t the reason I was seeking a relationship. I love my solitude. I grasp and fully understand the concept of alone but not lonely. However, sometimes I’d just like to get excited at the thought of being the sparkle in a man’s eye, feeling his strong arms holding me tight, and even snuggling up next to me in bed at night.
Although not all the time, I like my space. This is where I have the fight within.
There are those occasions where I am almost the definition of a “typical guy” after having sex. I want my bed back to myself and for him to go away. Other times I’m like a mushy girly girl and want to cuddle and fall asleep in the man’s arms.
Yeah, I’m totally fucked up, I know.
After some thought, I think I am ready to abandon my hopes of ever finding that perfect mix of bad, sexy guy and stable, secure and emotionally available man. Maybe I had it right with the flings and flirtation-ships. No strings whatsoever. I still have my space, solitude and freedom.
I am past the point of occasionally thinking about and really starting to believe that I’m not one of those women that ends up in a relationship. I’ve grown so accustomed to my solitude and space that I don’t know if I can properly and most of all, normally by society’s standards, share my life with a man.
Perhaps it is time I let the deviant inside of me take over to supplement where needed. If anything, it will definitely give me interesting writing material. There is so much life out there to sample and taste that I haven’t had a chance to experience yet.
I want to take a road trip across the country, writing about and photographing every single bit of it. I want to travel the US and photograph cemeteries and creepy places. I want to travel all Europe and eventually move to Italy to live out the rest of my life. Nowhere in all that do I see myself with a man. These are solitary pursuits.
Maybe I can invent my version of a committed-no-strings relationship, without entering into the grey area of an open relationship. This would allow me to have all the perks of a relationship without having constant interaction. He and I would be there for each other when needed, but apart for solitary activities.
I’m a dreamer. A big dreamer. The only kind of man who would go for this is one that truly doesn’t want a commitment and wants to play the field. Which brings me back to flings and flirtation-ships. Perhaps this isn’t such a bad idea after all.
I would know going into it all that there would be no commitment, no strings attached – just pure unadulterated fun between two mature adults. Good clean (dirty) fun. If, and that’s a big if, it somehow made the turn into something more substantial, that would be a bonus.
Maybe I am on to something. It’s all I’ve ever known in my entire adult life, so why stray from the norm that I’ve come to know as a reality?
Truth be told, I know that I’m just trying to convince myself that this is a good idea.
I’m tired of waiting for Mr. Right to appear. I’m exhausted from dating all of his bad clones. I’m weary of being dissatisfied. And most of all, I’m sick and tired of being told that this late in the game I need to lower my expectations and standards if I want a real, honest and true relationship.
The background theme of my life from my teen years on has been one of me settling. I was raised and groomed to think I was less of a person because I was fat, and should settle for what scraps I got. For God’s sake, I was married and in an open relationship, which my ex-husband took advantage of a lot more than I did. If that isn’t settling, I don’t know what is. I’m thankful I got away from that toxic thinking pattern.
Yet, still I can play devil’s advocate…
Isn’t what I’m proposing with the flings and flirtation-ships just another form of settling? I cannot have what I want in a man and a relationship, so to have something that resembles a relationship in my life, I choose this option. Settling, right? Yes and no.
I view it as playing the cards I’ve been dealt.
Possessing a creative mind, I have lofty ideals of what I want and need from a man – which when it comes down to it aren’t that grand or spectacular. The man I want isn’t too much to ask for, I’ve actually met this type of man before, so I know he exists.
Will I get the fairy tale happily ever after ending with him? Most likely, no. I’ve accepted the fact that I will never have that, therefore I will play the cards in my hand and go about business as usual, which leads me once again to the ease and joy of flings and flirtation-ships.
I’m wired differently, I’ve known this since I was a child.
Sometimes I envy my friends with the normal 2.5 kids, house in the suburbs, family dinners every night, soccer games on the weekend, date night Friday’s, and so on… and then I stop and think… let them have their normal. I have possibilities, open-ended opportunities and freedom.
If I want to take off on a drive across the country, I only need to find someone to check in every few days on my cats. If I’m feeling lonely and want the company of a man and sexual fulfillment, I only need to make a phone call – and we are back to flirtation-ships once again.
However, most of all, if I want to be alone, I don’t need to do anything because that is the Wild Card that life dealt me.
Solitude. Choices. Freedom. Adventure. Creativity.
These are the cards I hold, and I stand.
Show me your hand.