I have noticed that over the last year,
young men don't really look at me anymore.
Not in the way they used to, checking me out,
up, down, breast, ass. I am now the invisible
woman. I am now officially a middle aged
female.
I was getting comfortable with my body softness
and my gray hairs, realizing that I've entered
another phase of my life and accepting it.
Then I decided to get back in shape and color
my hair again. I thought I'd look more
professional (younger) and polished (younger).
It did the trick from a business standpoint, but
I could still walk down the aisle of a grocery
store and not get a second look.
I've never been a raving beauty but I do know
I have an interesting look and a decent body.
And I've never used my looks deliberately,
maybe subconsciously, sure, but not on a
conscious level, to get what I want.
I still think I look pretty good for my age.
People say I look younger than I am - a lot
younger, like a decade younger.
But there's less of a spark to my lifeforce.
I think there is a mellowing to that spark and
young men no longer feel me or see me when
I walk into a room.
Part of it, too, must be that I'm finally in a
relationship that is so right, so positive, that
I don't put out that signal, that smell, of looking
for someone, of being available.
I've been thinking about this new invisible
existence and how I can wear sweats and
a baggy turtleneck and ratty shoes and go
anywhere and not be noticed. I've been thinking
about missing that electricity, that sexual
zing that comes from realizing some young
man is checking me out.
I keep talking about young men because I think
older men are checking me out now - but usually
much older men and it feels creepy, not
exciting, to me.
The other day, I went to buy a six pack of beer
and just fantasized that the young man at the
counter was going to card me. I wanted him to
card me and then I would say "I'm old enough
to be your mother" because it appeared to be
true, and I just wanted to savor that moment of
being mistaken for being so young and then
turning out to be so much older. He didn't card
me. Didn't even give me a second look.
But then yesterday, I stopped off at a restaurant
in Colorado to get something to eat on the way
back home from an appointment, and the waiter
who took my order - a young guy, maybe in his
late 20s - gave me that look. At this point, I know
that look because I never get it anymore.
Zing. Electricity.
He was giving me that look and asking me questions
about myself. What do you do? (I said I teach).
Do you come to this restaurant often? (I said no).
I found myself hiding my ring slightly, just for a
moment, because I have learned that men do
check out women's fingers for rings.
But I wasn't seriously interested in him at all.
I would never even consider going for someone
else. Not even for a moment.
At this moment, I wasn't thinking "I want to be with
this guy." I was thinking "let me bask for just a brief
moment in this superficial adoration." Bring it on.
My man adores me. He worships me - he tells
me this. I love it. I feel confident and loved in
his presence. Totally accepted for who I am
and as I am.
I'm talking about a different thing. This is total-stranger-
has-no-idea-who-I-am-and-never-will-but-curious-
about-me-and-checking-me-out-and-giving-me-
that-lingering-look. Sigh.
I walked out of that restaurant feeling lighter,
prettier, younger. Feeling that spark, that
brilliant lifeforce, just glowing.