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| July 2018 |
I was crossing a parking lot a couple months ago and felt a sensation I used to feel multiple times a day but hadn’t felt in a good long time – a man I didn’t know was looking at me. As I walked toward Peet’s Coffee I felt his gaze, and as we were about to pass I looked directly at him. “Good morning,” he said with a big smile. “Good morning!” I said, smiling back.
What the heck was that? I wondered. For several years I’ve been virtually immune to being noticed by men in the world. Men no longer approach, flirt, smile, jockey, admire, or even catcall (with the exception of the occasional down-and-outer on the street offering “Ain’t you fine!”)
The year I was turning 50 I was in an interesting conversation in the American Airlines lounge at Logan International Airport with a man about a decade younger than I, a tech guy flying to Japan. I was newly out of my marriage and carrying roses that had been sent to me by a new suitor. The stranger’s and my flights were delayed and the we began to talk. The flowers led us to talk about relationships new and old and I was cocky and candid. Through the conversation, I am sure I conveyed a belief that being single again would be just like it had been for me in my 30s. Couldn’t I, right at that moment, name at least 3 other men, aside from the flower-sender, who were interested in me? I believed at that moment (admittedly flush with the attention of a new beau) that my post-marriage life would be similar to what it had been pre-marriage; that men would clamor to woo me, that there would be a similar “parade of men” as I had dubbed it in my early 30s.
I think back on this conversation because that man was a kind of sage. He told me quite simply and directly that no matter how desirable a woman might have been in her youth that it would not be the same after 50. I literally scoffed at him; he didn’t know ME! He didn’t know how compelling I had been to my male peers since I was a tiny girl! I can remember boys fighting to be in line behind me in the 1st grade. “She’s my girl!” Tim said, shoving Ted out of the way. (That Tim told me at our 20th high school reunion, “I can picture you in your bright green dress on the 1st day of 1st grade!”)
The matter-of-fact prediction by the man in the Boston airport went so against my life experience and my sense of myself I dismissed it outright. “What a quaint prediction,” I thought.
There is an absolute power in being a beautiful woman, and if it descends on you when you are young, it becomes part of who you are. It is reinforced every day by the people around you and the world at large, and it directly informs how you see yourself, the way you move through space, the way you interact with people. These things are only partly conscious – they are utterly baked into the person you are.
And then, menopause.
For decades I thought the positive attention I got was because I was so unique and special! I can clearly see now that a big part of it was simply youth and beauty. What a powerful combo that was! I am being clear-eyed here – I recognize that I retain charisma and brightness too – but my former allure, powerfully bolstered by a youth/beauty overlay have receded. One has to recalibrate. One settles into the new (more anonymous) normal. One marvels at the knowing words of an airport stranger.
In the 7+ years since my husband and I split I have met dozens and dozens of men via online dating sites, but almost none in my day-to-day life. This is the way it is and I now accept it. (Men no longer approach, flirt, smile, jockey, admire, or even catcall.) But also, in the 7+ years since my husband and I split, my hair has been dyed.
On another recent occasion, headed to get a latte, a man sitting on a bench outside the café watched me and smiled and said hello. Another man recently held the door for me, another smiled, another started a conversation as we awaited our coffee drinks. (Getting morning coffee is apparently the new pick up scene for midlifers?!) In recent months this has happened several times – more times than it has in years. And my is hair bright white now.
So here’s what I have been wondering: Is the new silver hair so dazzling and compelling that it is drawing men to watch and speak to me, or am I exuding more confidence and charisma as I grow out my gray hair, feeling more authentic and “myself”, which is drawing men to watch and speak to me?
Whatever it is, it’s the last thing I expected.
