This post originally appearred on RoleReboot and has been republished here with full permission.
I’m in my 60s and have found mortality weighs more heavily in this decade. When I read the obituary of someone who died in his or her 70s, I find myself silently asking, “Isn’t that unusually young to die?” Then I immediately do the math to figure out how many more years I’ll have left if I meet the Grim Reaper at such a tender age.
Thoughts like that make whatever years remain more precious and prompted me to file for divorce eight months ago. If I only have another 10 or 15 years left, I refuse to spend them in a situation that makes me unhappy.
The partner we chose in our 20s or 30s may not be the one we find satisfying in our 60s. The divorce rate for people over 50 has doubled over the last 20 years with roughly two-thirds of older adult divorces being initiated by women.
With women becoming more financially independent, many of these divorcées may feel less compelled to enter into another marriage. But that doesn’t mean they’re uninterested in male companionship or dating.
I’d like to find a man whose company I enjoy. Perhaps, as Katharine Hepburn suggests, one who “lives next door and just visits now and then.” I especially hope that man will visit my bedroom.
I’ve been in a sexless marriage for years. The prospect of a vigorous romp is appealing, but it’s become fraught with concern. As I’ve grown older, good health becomes more precious and a blessing never to be taken for granted. Having made it to this age without contracting a sexually transmitted disease, I’ve become more concerned than ever. When a man makes no physical moves, not even a peck on the cheek, after a few dates I begin to worry if he’s going slowly because he’s waiting to break the news he has herpes.