What is it with these famous middle-aged women authors who write about their wonderful lives and marriages, giving us advice on how to improve our relationships and this elusive happiness we are all seeking….like Glennon Doyle (Untamed etc) and Elizabeth Gilbert (Big Magic, East Pray Love etc) to name just two – and then they become lesbians.
It’s like they get to their mid-40’s, then throw their hands in the air and say: “Nah, this hetro love shite is too hard, I’m changing sides.”
It’s a thing, actually….Late Blooming Lesbians. When women are over menopause, their sex drive and motivation change and they have a sexual awakening – and chances are they realise men were only good for financial security and fathering children. When women gets older, perhaps she no longer needs or wants a traditional old-style man – she needs an ally, a friend, a real partner – in her corner.
I get that, absolutely. I much prefer female energy, I prefer discussing girl stuff, I adore hanging out with girlfriends, and count my male friends on one hand. I am offended by the small dick syndrome and the short man syndrome and patriarchal hangovers and entitled old white men droning on about things that bore me senseless as if their manly words are law. Yes, what is it about so many men who always blah-blahing on like they are an authority on anything and refuse to let anyone else speak, let alone voice an opposing view. It is so bloody tedious. I am much more comfortable with women because they speak my language.
But the thing I don’t get about this switch is the sex part. Good grief, any post-menopausal woman will agree that the thought of sex over 50 is rather tiresome and a bit of a chore – something married women only continue to do because it’s part of their duties, and unmarried older ladies do it to ensnare a rich retirement husband. In my heart, I want to be with a woman. But the thought of having to deal with another set of female genitals and wobbly bits does not appeal to me whatsoever. I can barely deal with my own.
I reckon middle-aged woman are sick to death of babying boomer and millennial husbands, putting up with the whingeing and controlling and being dictated too. The resentments of years of being shushed and ignored overflow and the thought of retirement locked down with a boring old grump is too overwhelming. No wonder it’s attractive to swap gender….the warmth, the nurturing, the care…where women can age disgracefully.
But alas, much as I wish this lesbian rebrand was me, I can’t do the sex part – so I will now most likely age without a significant other holding my hand. I am not sure if that makes me very happy, totally relived, a little frightened or slightly sad.