I'm a 39-year-old woman, dating a guy 10 years younger for about a year. He swears he's in love, can't live without me, says I'm the best woman he's ever been with, and makes me feel great when he's with me. However, he rarely answers the phone when I call and has stood me up numerous times. Whenever I get mad about being stood up, he'll call after a couple of days and either say he was in the hospital or someone died. Should I move on, or is it possible that he does care but needs to grow up? I would like to add that our sex life is out of this world. The truth is, I am turning 40 soon, and I guess he makes me feel young.
--Confused Or Stupid?
Okay, so your sex life is out of this world. And don't tell me, when you call the guy, his message says, "If I'm not here, I'm probably on the mothership..."
Actually, he has so little respect for you that he can't be bothered to come up with original (let alone plausible) excuses, or call you in a timely manner to deliver them. In fact, he's got you trained to call him and wait a couple days to hear which of his two excuses it'll be. What? Somebody died? People die every second -- almost all of them strangers to a guy who isn't exactly living out his final days at Whispering Pines nursing home. Oh, wait -- was he in the hospital again? Perhaps insurance companies are finally recognizing being a complete jerk as a legitimate medical condition -- or did he just sprain an ankle walking all over you?
Sure, mistakes happen. Like, once. A good guy works 16 hours, lies down for a five-minute nap, and wakes up five hours after he was supposed to pick you up for your date. He'll be mortified, call you pronto to tell you how sorry he is, and clean out the corner florist to say it again. Should a date who's a no-show fail to call right away, or claim he was held hostage by bank robbers, the reality is almost certainly one of two things: He isn't a good guy or he isn't a good guy. Do feel free to believe otherwise -- the moment you turn on the local news and see a familiar face bound and gagged on the floor of the bank.
Since anybody with an I.Q. over freezing is too smart to put up with the excuses you do, it's got to be a profound lack of self-respect that keeps you coming back for that 26th helping of crushing humiliation (or, as you prefer to call it, "out of this world sex"). Of course, you have your reasons, like how young he makes you feel -- but do you really need to relive that time you waited alone in the rain when your mom forgot to pick you up from ballet? You have to be blocking out your true feelings, and reality, too, probably out of desperation to be loved -- which is about the best guarantee you won't find anything remotely resembling love. You'll only be ready for a relationship when you can take or leave being in one. Go work on yourself until you don't need to hear how wonderful you are from somebody else -- that is, just as soon as he comes out of this week's coma, and the waitress in the nurse outfit releases him.
A couple years ago, I "met" a guy online, and we started e-mailing and sexting (sending sexy texts via cellphone). We decided to meet, but he canceled. I figured he was married, and dropped it. Within a few months, his sexts were popping up again. Five months ago, I met my boyfriend. The other guy was sexting me about once a month. I got a naughty thrill from messaging back. But, as my feelings for my boyfriend intensified, my thrill morphed into disgust. I'd delete the evidence and pledge not to do it again. Well, he sexted me last week, I sexted back, forgot to erase it, and my boyfriend saw it on my phone (by freak coincidence, not snooping). Not only is he still scarred from his ex-wife's cheating, my texts to this guy were similar to those I'd sent him. So, I pretty much ruined that thrill for him, and destroyed his trust. I immediately expunged the other guy from my life. My boyfriend left for three hours, then returned, saying we've invested too much to walk away. He tells me to stop apologizing, but I want to flog myself and hurt as much as I've hurt him.
--Punishment Glutton
Just 20 years ago, if you wanted to dash off a suggestive thought or two, you would've had to buy a card, stamp it, mail it, and wait a week. The heat kind of goes out of "What are you wearing?" if your recipient's first thought is "Today...or when this was postmarked?"
Technology frees up a lot of people -- some of them, far too much. Nobody marches over to a stranger in the drugstore and remarks "I guess the central concern is: Do you look more like a flounder or a moose? Or a Chihuahua? Or one of those midget ponies? Or some sort of unholy incarnation of all four?" But, under the virtual ski mask of online anonymity, blog commenter "WTB" had no problem dashing that off about a TV star. And just as the Internet provides a level of disconnect where some people (especially celebrities) are no longer people, simply attractive targets, cheating by text message makes it easy to short-circuit accountability. The hands all over you are only yours, and there are no sweaty sheets or motel keys to manage; it's the affair you can snap shut and drop in your purse.
Although you sent similar messages to both guys, at least you didn't resort to time- and thumb-saving measures like typing out the elevator scenario once and clicking "multiple recipients." Your boyfriend apparently feels you're worth the risk, and is trying to move on, which is a bit difficult with you hanging off his ankle, wailing about how sorry you are. You might instead turn this into an opportunity to strengthen your relationship by taking a step too few couples do: Come up with a policy for monogamy instead of taking for granted that you won't two-time (or two-text) each other. Decide what your boundaries will be, and how you're supposed to answer if opportunity knocks (or vibrates). Oh yeah, and assuming honesty will be an important part of your future together, start by cutting the lame protestations about how disgusted you were -- every time -- as in, "Oh, this is so disgusting...here, just let me write back once more...oh, I'm so grossed out. SEND!"
June 16, 2009I'm a single, divorced mother who met a wonderful man. Last week, he wanted me to come over. Because of my children, my only option was to pop by during my son's junior high baseball game. I dropped my son off, but instead of parking and watching the game, I drove to this man's house and we had sex. Afterward, I rushed back to the game and caught the last part. My son said he didn't see me in the stands, and asked where I was. I don't know if he thinks of his mother as a sexual person, so I ducked the question, but I'm not sure I can pull that off again. Also, I don't want to lie or give him the wrong idea about sex.
--Balancing Act
Kids may say "the darndest things," but if there's one thing your kid should never be in a position to say to you, it's "So, Mommy, did you get your freak on last night?"
Not only did you beat your kid to third base, and then some, you're seriously thinking of telling him? You don't want to lie, you say, or "give him the wrong idea about sex." Sorry, but the wrong idea about sex is what a kid gets when his mother tells him she's having it, and worse yet, when he realizes it's more important to her than sticking around for his game. You've probably succumbed to Cool Mom Syndrome, treating your children like they're your adult friends, only shorter. They're not. While any kid who scams his way onto a computer without parental controls can see sex acts that make the Flying Wallendas look like the Wheelchair-Bound Invalids, no kid ever wants to picture his parents having sex, and especially not his single mother sliding into home with some strange man.
Sure, it's hard to tell your kids about the birds and the bees, which is why there are helpful books out there with passages like "When a man loves a woman very much..." not "When a Mommy loves her little baseball player very much, but has some serious ants in her panties..." If you want to give your son some truly valuable sex education, tell him not to feel pressured to have it, to use a condom if he does, and to maintain custody of that condom at all times. There are unscrupulous women out there with full pincushions and empty turkey basters who will turn him into an unwitting sperm donor, visiting dad, and cash machine.
Regarding your needs, the moment you turned your diaphragm into a Frisbee, they started coming third -- or should have. So, "I am woman, hear me roar," and all that -- yes -- but from the bleachers when your kid's batting, not into the pillow lest Wonderful Man's neighbors assume there's a crime in progress...that is, beyond parental neglect. Instead of trying to relieve your guilt (you do feel some guilt, right?) by confessing to your kid, think remorseful thoughts, and make it up to him in time and attention. As for how you can have children and sex dates, too, was it too much for your lust-addled brain to figure out that you can swap babysitting hours with some other sex-mad single mom? Yes, with just a little advance planning, you'll eliminate the need to brief your 13-year-old on your whereabouts: "Actually, dear, I remembered I had something on the stove -- I just didn't realize at the time that it was me."
June 9, 2009I'm 32, and deeply in love with this 24-year-old girl. I've never had trouble attracting women, but there was chemistry between us I didn't know was possible. There was a complication: She's engaged to and lives with a disabled man. She said she didn't love him anymore, and wasn't going to marry him, but refused to tell him or anyone in her life about us. She claimed she loved me and wanted to spend her life with me, but eventually admitted she wasn't leaving him anytime soon. My mounting hurt made me say things I regret, like that she has no clue what love is, and that she was nothing to me but a piece of meat. I apologized, explaining I said those things out of pain, but she says they're unforgivable. Well, her fiance has screamed "unforgivable" things to her over the phone, and he's still around. It's been seven months, and I can't seem to get over this. I'd do anything to reconcile.
--A Mess
It was all going so swimmingly -- you met this fabulous woman, had this incredible connection, and she told you she loved you and wanted to spend the rest of her life with you. Only one tiny complication: just not enough to stop spending it with the other guy.
While there's never a good time to tell the woman you love that she's nothing but a piece of meat, your revelation probably came at a particularly good time for her. It's likely she needed an out, but didn't realize it until you handed it to her, medium-rare, on a platter. Maybe her identity's wrapped up in the Flo Nightingale thing, and she's worried about what people will say if she ditches the guy. Chances are, she's either too unformed as a person to decide what she wants or too afraid to express it. It's a pity, since you and she have at least one big thing in common: the idea that ignoring reality will make it go away, not just curl up behind you and use the extra time to sharpen its teeth.
If somebody you're dating has to keep you a secret, bells should go off in your head, and I don't mean the wedding kind. More like those in an alarm clock -- the kind for heavy sleepers that first plays a little tune (say, Cannibal Corpse's Hammer Smashed Face), then throws itself on the bed and starts head-butting you. So, what does it take to wake you? Despite all her secrecy and stonewalling, you're still finding excuses to keep mooning after her, like how "deeply in love" you are. (Apparently, you've always dreamed of meeting a woman who'd take your heart in her hands -- and then put it down on her kitchen counter and forget about it for a few months.)
You're still stuck on her because you're focusing on how great it was with her instead of how great it wasn't. She's a package deal, and the moment she said, "Whoops, look at the time, gotta go home to my fiance," it should have been clear she was a bad package. You do say you two had "chemistry" you "didn't know was possible." Well, good news! Now you know -- which means you can seek it with somebody else; ideally, along with the empathy and ethics you took for granted. It's gotta beat clinging to your fantasy of walking off into the sunset together -- while doing everything in your power to drown out the likely reality: on either side of her husband's wheelchair.
June 2, 2009Women complain about how hard it is being a stay-at-home mom. After getting divorced, I discovered I could clean the entire house in a few hours -- accomplishing way more than my wife ever did -- and have all afternoon to do nothing. Men work long hours to support their families, only to be told they aren't doing enough around the house. I think being a mom is important and value stay-at-home moms, but let's talk turkey about who really has the hard job, okay?
--Stay-Late-At-Work Dad
It used to be that a stay-at-home mom's work was never done -- and for good reason. Chicken for dinner? Grab your coat, grab the ax, and chase your bird around the yard, taking care not to slip and end up face down in chicken poo again. Finally catch the thing, chop its head off, and see yet again that chickens can indeed run with their heads cut off -- all the way to the next farm. Chase, catch, drain, scald, pluck, and hoist the 50-pound cast-iron kettle over the fire. And then there's today: 1. Poke plastic wrap with fork. 2. Place in microwave. 3. Push button.
Since I describe myself as "BARREN!" I sought informed opinions about the difficulty of the mom portion of the stay-at-homer's chore chart. "People in general seem convinced that stay-at-home moms get a raw deal and work much harder than breadwinner dads," said Glenn Sacks, executive director of Fathers & Families. "Having been a stay-at-home dad with two kids during the years when they need the most intensive care, I can tell you that this is nonsense." And no, he didn't just jam a bottle in the baby's mouth and turn on the ballgame. "Even though I'm a guy," Sacks said, "I actually figured out how to get my daughter in the car and get her to her doctor appointment."
Stay-at-home moms, on the other hand, aren't saying "If only I had a nice cushy job like ditch-digging..." What those I spoke with find hardest is only having the company of a 3-year-old all day, a companion whose intellectual interests are limited to answering questions like "How many fingers is this?" and "What does the cow say?" (Mommy somehow avoids throwing herself on the floor and screaming, "The cow says, 'I went to Yale for this?! I went to Yale for this?!'"). And while the parent in the workplace can step out for a smoke, the stay-at-homer can't even go to the bathroom by herself. Wouldn'tcha know it, in the 36 seconds it takes her to rush through her business, the baby will scale the counter, find a butcher knife, and see what happens when he sticks it into those holes where Mommy plugs the lamp.
Women love their children, but an increasing number seem to hate being mothers like never before. It doesn't help that many are perfectionistic in a way men generally aren't, like with a housecleaning regime right out of Joan Crawford's crazy scene in the bathroom in "Mommie Dearest." They'll beg their husband to pitch in, and when he does, screech that he's doing it "wrong." Well, ladies, if you absolutely, positively must have it your way, there's a single best person to accomplish that. Meanwhile, the housekeeping clash is only part of the problem. And modern conveniences aren't the solution; they might even be making things worse, freeing up mothers to fret over little Madison's every move -- in between spending hours rubbing her down with antibacterial wipes.
There's this idea that parents can't give their kids too much attention, but psychologist Judith Rich Harris examined a vast body of research and found the parental micromanagement approach to child development was based on myth, not data. It's in peer groups that children acquire the social skills they need to manage in society -- as they have throughout human history. This suggests it's in parents' and children's best interest to form co-op play groups of three to five families, with one parent (plus a helper) taking all the kids each weekday. Moreover, Boston College research psychologist Peter Gray found that children make great strides in social and emotional growth from "age-mixed play" -- and he doesn't mean two toddlers and their 38-year-old mother engaged in whatever edumacational exercises they're saying are sure to fast-track the kiddies to Harvard Med.
Clearly, the essential question isn't whether it's moms or dads who really have the hard job, but why anyone would go into parenting without fully investigating whether they've got the partner and the financial and emotional wherewithal to raise another human being. As for those who don't have what it takes, childhood tragedies can be averted with helpful tools like the childproof cap -- the one that comes in a little plastic packet labeled Durex or Trojan.