Me? Enjoying Sex? At my age? Part 1 of A Very Convoluted Story of Self Discovery

Last year before all hell broke loose in my life, I had finally gotten to the point where I felt ready to begin dating.  Notice I don't say "dating again." 

As a teenager, I did not date.  No one ever asked out the chubby, very shy, redhead who never looked up, never spoke to anyone.  I had my friend, Maria, and I was fine with that.  Boys were nasty and mean hearted anyway.

Once I got to college, I did go out with 3 different guys, but only once each.  I wasn't quite as shy, but I was clumsy when it came to dating.  Then along came Alan, a sweet guy who was super tall and super skinny and not the most handsome guy, but I liked him.  He actually liked my roommate, but she had other guys she liked, and Alan was there in case she had no one else to go out with.  He and I developed a friends-with-benefits relationship that lasted for over a year. We enjoyed each other's company and had a blast together.

I did go out with another guy at home, but it was shortlived.  Eventually I met the only guy I would actually "date", and we did so for two years.  He was a super nice guy, but I think I became bored.  When I pushed a little, asking where we were going in the relationship, I think I surprised him.  He left and I never talked to him again beyond a "hello" if I ran into him somewhere.

I guess you can say I did date.  Hmmm...it never felt like it for some reason.  But, I'm leaving out part of my story.  In between coming home from college and the guy I dated for two years, I had a relationship with a woman.  I sometimes think it was because I was rebounding from my relationship in college, was lonely, but I was also very curious about her. 

We worked together.  She was married.  She approached me about how she felt about me.  Talk about odd and different!  I was flattered, too.  I'll admit it. She left her husband, we moved in together, and I was so closed up in my closet it was ridiculous.  Long story short, we were together for about two years.  It didn't end well.  She wanted to be out there and I didn't. 

I didn't see anyone for a few years until I met the guy I was with for two years.  After he and I had split up, I turned to the friends I'd met who were gay and lesbian.   I felt most comfortable with them.  I was still trying to figure myself out.  Was I straight or lesbian?  There was no such thing as bisexual in my mind.  You were either one or the other.  

I was introduced to another woman, really too young for me, and really a big mistake, but I was convinced by the friends who introduced us to give her a chance.  Two years later I was never so relieved to be out of a relationship.   The Universe put me with that person so that I could meet my best friends and the woman who eventually became my long-term partner.

While I was out with my friends one evening I ran into my eventual partner, and we talked and exchanged numbers.  We spent all of our free time together and eventually ended up in a relationship.  We tried to be smart about things.  We didn't move in together for two years.  We did our best to work out any issues we had.  Eventually, she bought a house for us, we had a committment ceremony, and then I had our son.   Fifteen years into this relationship, after dealing with a lot of things including cheating on her part, we separated. Deep down, I was ready for it to be over.  My son and I moved out. 

For the first year, I felt like I was in hell.  I had just started a new job outside the home after working at home while my son was small.   At the time, I really enjoyed my job, but it was tough managing everything on my own.  I was 46 and completely starting over.  The apartment we lived in was brand new, but it did not feel like home to me.  I'd been too long in a house, and apartment living was not for me.  After the year, I found a townhouse where I could rent to own.  I was so happy!  Something that would finally be mine.  We moved in; things were beginning to feel normal again. 

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