by LEFTAT50
In your fifty-somethings, the dating pool really thins, and people always ask me why I don’t want to date men a little older than I am. Yes, over the years, I have come upon about three million reasons to turn away from the sixty-something male. Why I’m skipping the silver foxes. The story you’re about to read is one hundred percent true. No embellishments have been applied.
A couple of years ago, I had a hankering to eat at some place close to the ocean and therefore cooler with my dog Polo because it was incredibly hot in the Valley. I drove all the way to Brentwood and found an outdoor dog-okay table at a really good gourmet hamburger place.
We’re sitting down (well, I am, Polo was on the cool sidewalk looking adorable), and not two seconds go by when my Saturday night out is completely ruined!
Two men, one about 65 and one older than that, sit at the table three inches away. Their topic of conversation begins with a friend of theirs who has cancer, and he’s looking for hospitals. Where should he go, Cedars? UCLA? Blah blah blah?
I’m literally sticking my fingers in my ears trying not to hear this incredibly horrific conversation as I’m choosing between a Hawaiian and a Greek burger, not men. I order my turkey burger, and the waitress goes away, and they start talking about their health. A panic rises.
The man sitting three inches away from me explains he is still having a problem with gas.
Yeah, that’s right, gas. He has gas pains, and he constantly has gas, and the other man has something horribly wrong with his skin. Moles and such. They get into the pluses and minuses of mole removal. Fingers in my ears are doing nothing, no matter how hard I jam them in.
I’m beginning to dread my turkey burger’s arrival. The man to my left laments that he has so many brown spots now that it would be impossible to remove them all. And they are everywhere. “I mean everywhere!” The finger jamming was now causing some pain. I began to pray the subject would change to gardening or sports or climate change, anything but gas and moles.
After all, this was my Saturday night out in a cooler suburb when it’s been 111 in the Valley all day, and now I’m stuck next to these grotesque gabbers, and what do ya know? Here’s my eighteen-dollar turkey burger! Can it be eaten with fingers in both ears? No!
With each bite of what was an amazing turkey burger, I repeatedly had to push the whereabouts of his moles out of my mind.
When their food arrived, and their grotesque mouths were full, there was a small respite. I took blessed advantage of this. I downed my gourmet burger as fast as I could before who knows what topic would undoubtedly force my gag reflex.
Later on, the topic turned to women. Older Man asks Mole Guy if he’s dating anyone. His answer put an even worse taste in my mouth, to say the least. It seems he was at an event last night, and two women were interested in him. Really talking him up. He knows he’s obviously a good catch, (!) but these ladies were a few years older than him.
No way can he date any woman older than him.
And I’m thinking, “Why? Do you actually believe you’re going to get a 25-year-old who thinks you’re a catch because of your gas problem? What world are you living in? The whole thing was abominable, and I could not wait to get away from them. They completely ruined my pricey dinner with my dog in a beautifully cool suburb. But if I’m ever in the mood to spend an evening on a “suspicious mole hunt,” I’ll give him a ring.
On the other end of the spectrum, I have to admit that I have become a suspicious lady of a certain age. Am I really giving a new man a clear shot from the starting line? Or am I already being judgy based on a completely different man from a past encounter? Is that fair to this perfectly normal man sitting across from me with a fresh haircut? You know the answer.
Does your baggage have baggage?
This is the thought I always have when I even consider getting to know a new man. Because that first coffee date is the usual get-to-know-you stuff. Never goes really deep. If that is not a disaster, there is a follow-up or two where more is revealed. Their life story, job history, interests in this and that.
After maybe a month, I always start to wonder if it’s time for the nitty-gritty. How much am I vibing with this man? All of us Leftat50s know that there is always a story underneath the story. The question is, “Do I need to know all of that?” For me, the answer has forever been a resounding “Yes”. Because it always seems that there is baggage inside their baggage. The things they don’t tell you.
And if you don’t ask about it, then eventually, maybe too far into the future, it’s going to get unpacked.
Then I started to think, “Is this really fair of me?” Must I keep excavating the life of a man who seems perfectly nice? Must I know everything before I can decide if he’s “worthy” of me? Who the heck do I think I am?
Truth be told, I, yes, little Miss Perfect Me, have baggage inside my baggage. A lot, actually. And if the tables were turned, what would I do? Wouldn’t I feel uncomfortable dredging up things that no longer need dredging? Does he really need to walk through the swamp of my past?
No, he does not.
Then why do I feel that I need to do this?
Am I holding every man I ever meet in the future accountable for what one, lousy, cruel, selfish, cheating man did?
I mean, really, I need to cut this out. It’s time to “X-out” the story of my Ex!
For my own sake. How about merely easing into a new relationship, not coming at it like a swashbuckler, sword in hand, ready to cut him to ribbons!
From here on out, I’m going to take someone at face value. Exactly how I would want to be taken. No more panning for crap. Ix-nay on the Google searches, no conducting some private eye background check!
My goodness, when did I become “that woman?”
Enough of her! I want to be a free spirit. The woman who greets someone with a smile and an open heart. The one who leaves her baggage at home and stops looking for the reason to end something before it’s even begun.
This is going to be a herculean task for me.
That’s why I’m putting it out here for all of you to read.
I’m holding myself accountable for my actions. Because I owe it to myself to be happy and enjoy what is. To be the woman in my mind’s eye. The cool, happy woman is experiencing a lovely evening with a nice person.
Baggage-free.
We all go through major life transitions when relationships end… Through the Leftat50.com website, I will share my thoughts as I walk the path of “New-Self” discovery. It doesn’t matter which side of 50 you are on. The real question is, ‘Are you ready to live life? To forge a Path of Your Own Making (For a change!)?’ Then stop dwelling over the What-Might-Have-Beens and join me. Share your thoughts here, comment on mine, and let’s do this together! And check out my book, “Restarting Your Life When You Are. No Longer A Wife,” I wrote it just for you!