“Do you believe in unconditional love?” Sara asked me as we sat in her hot tub the other night, a welcome respite in between the storms.
“Sure, for my kid.”
“But, what about for Sean, or Rob? Can you have unconditional love for your partner?”
“You should have it, right?”
“Should isn’t can.”
I could tell Sara had an agenda. “OK, what brought this up?”
“Remember I was telling you about that gal Candy I know?”
“Yeah, the waitress.”
“Well, yeah. sort of. Candy works as a waitress but she makes her living stripping. She heads to Vegas about every six weeks, does a weekend of pole and lap dancing and heads home with a wad of cash.”
Well, gee, I wonder why?
She has no trouble meeting men and having sex with them, but it pretty much stops there.
Many men love looking at strippers, escorts and porn stars, and many might want to screw them like crazy. But how many guys (and to be fair, women) want to bring them home to meet the folks and live happily-ever-after with them — especially if they continue to strip? (let’s forget about Jesse James for now).
Wasn’t it Charlie Sheen who said, “I don’t pay hookers for sex; I pay them to leave”?
I’m sure there are many happily partnered people in the sex business. I have a feeling they don’t ask, “How was work today, honey?” But like in “Pretty Woman” (which I hated, BTW), the fantasy is that the hooker becomes a respectable lady when her “prince” rescues her. It isn’t that she continues to turn tricks at the Motel NoTell.
I know it’s usually women who marry hoping men will change, but in this case, I’d imagine most guys would want the little lady to stop parading around naked or having sex with other men for money.
But maybe not. Maybe that’s where unconditional love comes in — can you accept someone for who and what he/she is and does?
Including bumping uglies with other people for pay?
- Would you date/marry a stripper, hooker or porn star?
- Would you ask him/her to stop?
- Why wouldn’t you date/marry a stripper, hooker or porn star?
Photo © Tomasz Wojnarowicz – Fotolia.com
“I’m sad,” Mia said as we sat on her couch sipping some zin.
“Of course you are; you just went through a horrible breakup. It’s going to take time.”
“I know. It’s only been a month. But …”
“Mia, no ‘buts’ about it. Give yourself time to grieve.”
“But, I’m so horny.”
Who said menopausal women lose their libido?
“Well, then call on one of your old FWB standbys.”
“No, I can’t do that.”
“Well, then let’s find you a new one, a young guy. Nothing helps you get over an ex than having a fantastic orgasm with someone new,” I said as I grabbed my laptop and starting typing in “match.com.”
In truth, I don’t think Mia ever could “do” casual sex. But, I indulged her.
“OK, well then it’s your fingers or your Rabbit.”
“But I really, really want to feel and smell a man, you know?”
I do know. That’s the bummer about being single — all the cuddly parts are missing. It’s forced celibacy, which kind of sucks. So along comes the FWB, NSA, hookup, booty-call mentality. You get the cuddles and then some — one hopes — without having to commit, which comes in awfully handy when all you’re trying to do is get over someone while taking care of some basic needs, too.
We all know men can do it, but can women? As “Sex and the City’s” Carrie Bradshaw asked, “In an age where women enjoy the same money and successes as men, why shouldn’t women be able to enjoy sex like a man?”
I think we should, but not every woman can. Blame it on that damned oxytocin of ours! And if that wasn’t bad enough, we can’t quite shake the judgment and name-calling — can you say slut and cougar — by others and ourselves.
But we’ve all had moments when we wanted to surrender to our desire, when all that mattered was the sensual experience, when we just wanted to feel good. It wasn’t about fulfilling some deeper emotional thing or finding meaningfulness or connection. We just wanted to be f@*ked — in a good way.
- Can women have “sex like a men”?
- Or are we forever slaves to the need for connection?
Sara and I sat happily in our own little worlds at a table at the Depot, two cups of coffee and two wide-open newspapers between us — the adult version of parallel playing — when our shared solitude was interrupted by two fortysomething women at the table next to us.
“I’m just not happy,” the blonde said.
“You haven’t been happy for a long time,” her brunette friend said.
“But, the kids. I keep thinking about the kids. I don’t want to ruin their lives.”
“I know. But, I don’t know if I’ve given it my all. How do you know when enough is enough?”
Sara and I looked at each other, trying not to appear as if we were listening, which of course we were. But the blonde’s question is one every person contemplating a break up or divorce asks him/herself — when do you know it’s over? At what point do you say this marriage or relationship cannot be saved?
I wanted to keep my marriage together, even though I was still stinging from Rob’s affair. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy and I wasn’t happy, but I — like the blonde — thought of my kid; I didn’t want to hurt him. But I know the exact moment when I knew it was over — when Rob lied when he no longer had to.
A while ago the Huffington Post asked people to share when they knew their marriage was over. Some divorce stories are funny, some are sad, some seem as if they might have been hasty. But, who knows what goes on behind those white picket fences?
I remember reading something Joyce Maynard once wrote when someone asked her when do you know it’s over. She wrote:
A person who is profoundly unhappy in a marriage is also depriving his or her partner of the experience of being wholly loved and accepted, rather than endured. A person who silently cries out … “I can’t live this way” — and then does live this way, despite her cries — is also quietly teaching her children to ignore their own inner voices, and failing to convey to them what may be the most important lessons we can teach them: To be true to one’s self, and celebrate the extraordinary gift of being alive. To live one’s life to the fullest. To be the best person we can be.
OK, I agree: We must be true to ourselves. And to our partners, too. But, instead of living “this way, despite her cries,” I always wonder if we are doing all that could be done. What could she have been doing instead of crying? There are many truths — how do you know which is the right one?
- When did you know it was over?
- Do you still look back and say, yes, I did the right thing?
- Have you been true to yourself?
photo © Aaron Kohr – Fotolia.com