Category Archives: Sex at a “Certain Age”

Sadder, yes. Wiser, maybe.

A woman I know, owner of her own business, single mother of two, and a kind, cheerful, truly good person, has just had her heart broken. And it makes me really angry.

“Lynn”, who hadn’t dated anyone for five years, met the man in question online. Normally, this could be a red flag in itself, but one of her clients vetted him through her own company, and Lynn proceeded to get to know “Ted” over the course of nine months, discovering a lot in common, making plans, and developing a deep connection.

Ted apparently worked for a shipping company and was posted overseas. The couple FaceTimed daily from his location, which seems to be legitimate. It all fell apart a week ago when he was due to return to the US and visit her, at which point he suddenly stopped returning calls and text messages.

Is Ted married? One would think so: someone away from home who thought an innocent flirtation would help pass the time? Or is he a sociopath who constructed an elaborate web of lies, replete with fake background images? It doesn’t matter.

I’m sad that this lovely woman is hurt, embarrassed, and feels humiliated. She says, “At 50, I should know better.” I tried to assure her that trusting someone and assuming the best doesn’t make you a fool, it makes you normal. How would we navigate life if we were always suspicious and cynical? Easier said than done, though, right?

I told Lynn a bit of my own story: an ex-husband who lied, stole, cheated, and stole some more, all without one bit of regret. Luckily, one divorce and four years later at age 58, I finally connected with the right person. Being trustworthy is, in my opinion, the single most attractive characteristic a partner can have. The rest is gravy.

Photo by Pixabay on


In the midst of gloom, doom and general mayhem, I read something yesterday that provided a glimmer of humor.

Apparently observed amidst the panicky consumers laying siege to groceries, pharmacies and big box stores: a man stocking up on 16 boxes of condoms and a large tub of coconut oil.

When the apocalypse comes?

silhouette photo of man leaning on heart shaped tree

Photo by Rakicevic Nenad on

Realistic Fantasies

It’s a subtle change.

One minute, our dream partner is rich/brilliant/gorgeous/could make a porn star blush. A few decades later, and our idea of what’s hot has undergone a seismic shift.

Must be nature’s way of ensuring we don’t all throw ourselves under a bus after age 40.

SEXY THEN                                      SEXY NOW

A full head of hair                           Any hair

All night sex                                     All night sleep

Hot car                                              Hot chauffeur

Six-pack abs                                     Puts six pack in recycling bin

Good listener                                   Selective hearing

Valuable possessions                     Values

Nice smile                                        Has most of his original teeth

Great in bed                                    Makes the bed

Smart                                                Wise

Erotic talk                                        Knows when to shut up

Heavy breathing                            Still breathing


Here’s to the imperfectly perfect people we love! xx, Alisa



The Apocalypse on $10,000 a Day

A couple of nights ago, we watched the 2012 movie Seeking a Friend for the End of the World. The premise: an asteroid is hurtling towards Earth and will wipe out everyone in 3 weeks.


What would you do? Here’s my exit strategy.

Liquidate savings, leaving just a little in case the forecast is, you know, wrong.

Fly (first class of course) to a remote tropical island with a 5-star resort. Pack tons of books, many bottles of limited edition Islay whiskey, and sunscreen. (My end-of-life scenario doesn’t include suffering from painful sunburn.)

Check into our suite, having reserved all the rooms on the floor so as not to endure  fighting couples or screaming children.

Every day:

  • Walk on the beach. No sense meeting my Maker with flabby thighs.
  • Have a 3-hour massage, with one hour spent on neck and shoulders.
  • Drink steadily but only to maintain pleasant buzz, not hangover.
  • Have dessert at lunch and dinner. Who’s judging?
  • Have sex. OK, maybe not EVERY day.

Binge-watch all 19 seasons of Midsomer Murders. Mysteries are soothing because  bad guys always get caught. Unlike life.

Be friendly but don’t waste a minute with anyone who is boring or mean.

Consume plenty of fresh papaya, mango and strawberries. End-of-days plan should  not include constipation.

See glorious sunsets.

Gorge on cheese and chocolate. Cholesterol be damned.

Snuggle up with my sweetie every night. Drift off remembering every nice thing that’s ever happened to me.

There are worse ways to go.

Photo source: Pixabay

Sex in the Middle Ages

You know how it’s ok to make fun of your own family but you get defensive when someone else does it? Middle-aged sex definitely has its issues but in my opinion only those of “a certain age” have the right to make jokes. I get really peeved when I see some movie where the old duffer in a bathing suit is played for laughs. Hey, we already know we have cellulite and a flabby butt.

For instance, there’s that post-menopausal “dry as the Sahara” moment, when your head says “Go” and your body says, “Are you kidding me?!” That’s what lubricants—or, as I call them, “sexy juice”—are for. Embrace the sexy juice—it makes the impossible, possible.

Or the contortionist problem: He wants to get exotic. Then his knee gives out. Or maybe his hip. There goes the moment. It’s hard to sustain the fantasy of Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy when you’re thinking you might have to call 911.

Nevertheless, people our age deserve to have sex, do we not? Why? Well, besides being fun, having sex helps maintain a connection with our partner, burns calories, pumps blood to our hearts and helps us sleep better. (And if you’re not in a relationship, that’s no reason to abandon sex – your body needs it, and you can buy a vibrator online if you’re as leery of walking into a sex shop as I am.)

Over time it’s all too easy to take our spouses and partners for granted, becoming friends and ”roommates” and leaving sex in the rear view mirror with memories of “when we were younger”.

True, most of us looked better back in the day. But remember, he looks at least as crappy as you do, and he’s just as insecure. (Then again, he’s a man and probably delusional.) That’s why God invented darkness.

I’m also a fan of “middle of the night” sex when you’re half asleep and way less inclined to be judgmental.

In the other Middle Ages, people believed in the concept of “first sleep” and “second sleep”. When you woke up from deep sleep you’d spend an hour or so writing, praying, having sex or even visiting neighbors before going back to bed. I bet it was really fun when Mrs. Bricklayer next door dropped by to borrow a cup of mead at 2 a.m.

Over time, the second sleep idea fell out of favor. Instead, somebody came up with the idiotic goal of 8 hours’ continuous sleep, which is completely unrealistic once you’ve hit menopause. Or if hubby snores.

Bottom line: when it comes to sex, in the immortal words of Nike, “Just do it”.  It may not be pretty but it’s worth the effort.