At 68, I’m Having the Best Sex of My Life
Why do human beings take so long to get a clue and grow up?
So many things prevented me from having good sex when I was a young woman. First, there was the crushing shame I felt about my sexual fantasies. Then there were the ridiculous beauty standards I absorbed from the media and failed to live up to (as did all my friends). Third was the sexual shield I put up to protect myself from random catcalls and harassment in public. And in private, there was the long haul of pure exhaustion from raising sometimes difficult children, making a living and running a household, coupled with the growing resentment I felt for my husband, who rarely asked what I needed and often put his sexual needs first.
All of that — all of life as a woman — got in the way of me becoming the eager, responsive, joyful sexual being that I’m becoming today, at age 68. And the irony is, I got here by accident. I wasn’t seeking a sexual awakening when I opened our marriage a year and a half ago. I was seeking relief from my husband’s sexual needs.
Here’s what happened instead — or in addition — to assuaging his feelings of lack. About six months into our experiment with polyamory, while my husband was dating others and finding his groove, a man across the country, a reader of my open marriage stories on Medium…
