Start Dating someone half my age

Dating someone half my age

I'd just returned to my new apartment after a weeklong trek with my older son. And Charles, for the first time in my memory, apologized like he meant it; he knew he'd made an irretrievable mistake, and owned it. Almost instantly, I recognized the same sense of emotional safety with Charles that I'd found with the cashier. It had never occurred to me because I didn't know any other way…until the cashier. So on that morning in late July, newly returned from my trek and on the verge of signing divorce papers, my soon-to-be-ex sleeping with someone else, my single life looming on the immediate horizon; I woke up in my new bed, in my new apartment, made tea, and read the heartfelt, non-blaming, unconditionally-accepting, loving letter Charles had emailed that morning. In the days that followed I fell madly in love with him. The moment he fostered the emotional intimacy and safety we'd been missing, I had a quantum-shift into a trust so epic, so life-altering that (among other things) it ignited a mystical, almost spiritual eroticism. (I learned later that I experienced what researchers refer to as a shift from "anxious" into "secure" attachment.) For the next few weeks, it possessed me: the intense desire and affection for my husband. He cooled things off with her—fewer calls, deferring plans, withholding what we were doing for a very short time—while we had a series of the most pivotal, emotionally intimate, breakthrough conversations of our lives.

How, over tea, we'd had the kind of three-hour conversation that leaves you breathless During this rising fire, it dawned on me that I trusted him—in a categorically different way than I trusted my husband. He would never dismiss or coerce me, or act as if he knew more or better than I. And all of a sudden it didn't even matter if anything ever came of this. As I identify the new phase of our connection—from potential romance to sweet, easy rapport—I'm humbled by his kindness, his affection, his empathy. We care about and accept each other to be ourselves, just as we are. Even if I'm 44 and he's 22—maybe especially because of that. He turns to me as I grab my bags to head out, and says, "I really love that glitter you've got on. "I grin, then glance once more into my cashier's eyes, and realize he wants to tell me the same thing.

I might as well have been handing over my heart to him, rather than a wad of cash. But there's no putting back into a marriage something what was never there to begin with. I dip my head and offer a tiny prayer of gratitude. The almost imperceptible nod, the raised appreciative eyebrows, the knowing glance at the guy who just spoke.

Because by now, this transition is one I'm both ready and hungry for. But for whatever reason, and by now I know it has everything to do with his hyper-developed, early-onset integrity, he's refrained.

FALL 2016Nine-months later and my world has turned over.

It's New Year's Eve and glitter sprinkles the space between my brow and lids.

I have two teen boys at home and I'm retiring from a 22-year marriage with their father. Hell, I haven't worn makeup since I was a teenager! The first unrestricted crush I've allowed myself since I was 20 years old. One year ago tonight, well before I'd ever noticed this sexy young cashier, my soon-to-be-ex-husband and I were preparing for his major surgery.

Staring at him in what was probably unconcealed shock, vertigo hit.