Think you’re too old to fall in love at 60 or over? Well, here is Enduring Heart to prove you wrong and debunk some myths about older people. Read her experience of passion and romance at 60.
I am married and have been for many years. Yet, despite this crazy, obsessive land of passion and romance I find myself in, I can’t say that my marriage is unhappy.
I can’t say it’s happy, either. It sort of just… is. Like existing instead of living.
Like an old, familiar pair of shoes instead of sexy, new high heels. My husband, W, and I are older and we’re tired. We’ve been there, done that, so why should I expect things to be exciting and new after all this time?
But, you see, I didn’t. I didn’t expect anything at all. I thought that love and passion and romance were over and done for me. And I was, I thought, resigned to that.
What my marriage has is longevity and familiarity and a lifetime of shared experiences.
What it lacks is intimacy, and yes, sex. But it’s not just the lack of sex (though after 10 years without, believe me, it is an issue), it’s that there is no affection at all.
All this time I figured I could live without physical intimacy, but I didn’t know how I could live without at least being touched in kindness.
A hug or a pat on the hand, anything. Even now I try to show W some sort of affection every day. I often kiss him on the head (he will turn away if I offer more) or sidle up to him for a brief hug – which he quickly slides out of.
The older he gets, the less he wants to be bothered with, well, anything, really.
But it’s not like W and I ever had much of a romantic life, even when we were younger. He’s never been very affectionate or romantic, and never very sexual, either.
Here’s an odd fact – in over 30 years of marriage W and I have never, not once, called each other by a pet name. No honey, no sweetheart, anything like that, ever.
I know W still loves me, in his way. And I still love him in mine.
However long R and I might stay on this wild ride, right now I have no plans on leaving W. I couldn’t do that to him, and I couldn’t even do that to myself.
There is too much history, too many hardships gone through, children raised, and yes, too many good memories. Too much invested to walk away.
But investments don’t always fill the heart, at least not for me. If I were younger, say, 40, then I might consider leaving W. At 40 I wouldn’t feel like I was leaving him to manage alone on the brink of our declining years, but at 60 that’s a truth that can’t be overlooked.
There may be people who feel that what I am doing is wrong, that even though I have not yet been unfaithful in deed, I have been unfaithful emotionally.
I can understand those opinions and I can respect them. But those people aren’t me. Others may not have gone years and years needing an affectionate touch or loving word.
And opinions don’t and won’t change the way I feel or what I’m doing. I may be 60, but my need for affection and passion and romance hasn’t changed one bit.
And isn’t a lack of affection and being turned away from time and again, a sort of emotional infidelity of it’s own? With R, it’s like I’ve been woken up after a long, cold sleep in an empty bed.
Instead of the old and getting older person I was resigned to be, I’ve discovered that I’m still here… the me I was 16 and 20 and 40. I’m still here and not only am I still capable of love in all it’s manifestations, I still deserve it.