When Did Macho Men Turn Into Teenage Girls?
A few weeks ago my boyfriend dumped me. Perhaps boyfriend is not exactly the term to use here, we were actually more like acquaintances with benefits. There is nothing particularly unique about my story, though I must add here that I am happily married with almost grown children. However, like some women obsessively collect china or Pandora jewelry, I collect men.
Everyone needs a hobby.
So my friend breaking things off with me was no big deal, I’ll just go get a new one. What was unique was the reason that he ended our affair.
He was tired of me using him for sex.
This all occurred on my Monday appointment setting time. At the beginning of the week I line up my appointments; nails, blow outs, personal trainer, chiropractor, fuck buddy. Tuesday and Thursday evenings are reserved for my encounters. My family thinks I am at a Hadassah meeting or the gym, thus cannot be reached via cell phone for a few hours.
However that morning was different. He was nervous when he called me back on his “special” phone line. I keep a Tracfone (also referred to as my “booty call phone”) for my monsieur du jour, so that way there is no chance of them showing up on my regular cell phone bill. He had apparently thought through what he wanted to say ahead of time and the tightness of stress in his voice was evident.
Without stopping for breath, he explained that he felt like an object to me and was really hoping to meet someone that he could fall in love with and that more importantly would love and cherish him in return. He was tired of me just coming over for sex and leaving immediately afterward. He felt cheap and used.
I was floored. I thought we were both clear on why I was there. We are friends of a sort, I’ve known him since his son was in my pre-school class, plus we run into each other occasionally in the grocery store. I had always been oddly attracted to him despite our differences. He’s a long haired biker covered with tattoos that plays in a band on the weekends. I’m a suburban matron in pearls and a J. Crew twin set that engages in serial adultery now that I don’t fill my afternoons with carpool line and afterschool activities.
I thought we were a perfect fit for one another until then. We parted friends and I rearranged my week to accomodate the two new empty slots in it. There was something vaguely familiar about his speech though, it tickled the back of my mind for the rest of the afternoon until I had an epiphany that afternoon during my spin class.
I used to make that same speech to men in my teens and twenties when I felt I was being taken advantage of sexually. Sex equaled love in my girlish brain, it was so much more than a physical need. I remember my girlfriends and I negotiating the rough waters created by male sexual desire versus the female need for emotional connectivity and how frustrating it was when you realized that he was just in it because of the sex. I did eventually meet the “one” and married, but somewhere in my late thirties after years of “making love” with my husband I figured out that sometimes I just simply wanted a good fuck without any actual significance to the act.
I contribute my friend’s actions to aging and the lowering of testosterone levels. We are both on the tail end of our forties, and I’ve noticed men that age seem to become more in touch with the more emotional aspect of their lives. Not to say they don’t like sex still, but they seem to need the emotional connection that we used to crave instead.
My best friend witnessed the same behavior in her special friend. One afternoon, after a particularly torrid sexual encounter, she rolled over and immediately fell asleep. He stewed for a few moments and then flung himself out of bed and woke her up by yelling “I’ll see myself out since you’re so damn tired!” After that he continued to sulk and pout when she wouldn’t cuddle with him before she got dressed to go home to her family. She accommodates his bitchiness because she doesn’t want to go have to find a new friend; we do live in a small town and it can be hard to fly under the gossip radar here.
Other of my female friends are commenting on the same issue. We have become more sexually aggressive with age and our men, both husbands and lovers, are becoming softer and more passive. I’m starting to understand the whole cougar thing now. I don’t particularly like younger men, but from my new vantage point I can see how they would be more agreeable to the terms and conditions of a relationship with a very married woman.
My lover began texting me again yesterday afternoon. Love wasn’t all it was cracked up to be for him and he misses being used by me. He asked me if I still had “our” song on my iPod; the raucous dude rock anthem “Use Me” by Hinder and I do. We spoke this morning after I got the husband and children out of the house. Regrettably I have found a replacement; this time a blonder, younger, fitter version of him. Yes, I suppose that phenomenon happens with women also. I’ll keep his number and “our song” as mementos of our brief time together and try to be a kinder, gentler adulteress in the future.