you're either fuckable, or you're invisible

I've thought long and hard about this post, so here goes.

It's been seven years that I've been widowed. I'm 55; I'm in reasonably good health. Over the years I've lost 200 lbs, so I'm now a basic size XL. Animals and children flock to me, so I know I have a good aura about me. People smile at me all the time for no reason, so there's no reason to think I'm hideous. I've been married twice for 25 years, also dated before that, so I am at the very least acceptable looking, even if I don't wear makeup, and dress very basic for comfort first and foremost.

And yet, tonight, my heart is just really heavy. I have quit OLD, dumpster fire that it is, and felt relief, and yet, still want monogamous, loving male compaionship. I'm still attracted to men, despite knowing how abusive, lazy, and just all-around crappy they can be, unhygenic, poorly dressed, under-educated, under-employed, etc.

Decades ago before the internet, I had my first period at age 9, and freaked the fuck right out. I had known from single digits that I very much wanted to be married and happy, and also knew I never wanted kids. Back then in the 70s, in rural north Louisiana, counseling just wasn't a thing, either at school or privately; from what I remember, a person had to be actively psychotic to get any treatment, and just going to therapy to sort out issues wasn't heard of. Looking back, I've had body image issues from single digits, and starting that early actively messed me up. It took me well into my 30s to stop actively hating my body, close to 40s to begin to accept it. I used to shit-talk my body to hell, especially when some man online would compliment me and not stop. It was a very clumsy, awkward way to assert control, and push away what I saw as fake attention just to get sex.

I was terrified of pregnancy and birth, then having a child about which I knew nothing at all. I was dismayed how many stories I was picking up about men who knocked women up and then vanished, or who stuck around in name only, but who were essentially other children, effectively doubling (at least, if not tripling or more) a woman's workload at home. I was terrified of domestic abuse, and I knew that although my parents loved each other, what goes on behind closed doors with other people is something that just can't be known. So many pressing questions, next to zero answers. I grew up reading Cosmo and Glamour, and internalizing how women should look and behave, all pick-me stuff that never sat right with me, but nothing else was out there. I realize now I was a feminist from the get-go, but reading material was scarce on the ground back then.

I also saw all the attention that conventionally pretty girls were getting, starting even around fourth grade, from a coach who would never now be hired. He tried to give me the same kind of attention, but I hated it when he touched me, and jerked away. He then withdrew all his attention, and never spoke to me again unless it was to tell me I was doing something wrong. I can still taste that resentment today, that this adult, this person in authority, a teacher, couldn't give me normal attention as a child, as a student, but wanted to try to groom me to accept touch, and if I wasn't cooperative, he'd just ignore me like I didn't exist? I had enough ego strength to know he was wonky anyway, but I remember it because it was the first inkling I got that if a woman doesn't go along with a male agenda, she's nothing.

I've always tried to be true to myself, and that meant I always kept my voice, was loud when I thought it was merited, a tomboy because that was genuinely who I was. I was outspoken, opinionated, not a terribly feminine dresser. I argued especially when I knew I was right, and did not back down. And overall, I didn't particularly care if people thought me unlikeable for doing that. Early on, I somehow got the bright idea to re-frame and flip the script, and I came to the silent conclusion that if no one batted an eye when men did it, it was acceptable. And if anyone complained when a woman did it, forget them and their stereotypes. It was very, very freeing.

But I also knew, early on, that I had no tools to deal with unwanted, excess male attention, so I started putting on weight. I don't think it was an entirely conscious decision, since I was a child, and gaining was just natural. I grew up in the 70s and 80s in the Deep South; there was zero knowledge of nutrition. Diets were all restrictive, and we knew next to nothing about working out. There was just a lot of ignorance back then, partly in my family about food, nutrition, and movement; partly in the society as a whole. I just knew that the more weight I put on, the more I was left and let alone. In a way that bothered me, but I was less bothered than I was relieved. I then had freedom to go and do exactly as I pleased, and overall got minimal fat hate that I learned pretty quickly to shut down with a razor-sharp tongue and an extremely well-developed vocabulary.

And then everything crashed: around September of 2003, I was over 400 lbs, had extreme thirst and sores that wouldn't heal, and I knew I was a type 2 diabetic before I was even diagnosed. Bottom line, I felt I had to do damage to myself to get away from most unwanted male attention, but shortening my life wasn't worth it. That night, I started changing my lifestyle and, touch wood, in 20 years I've never had any complications. I used that fear to change my life for the better. I worked through a lot of my hatred for PE and the awfulness of early gym teachers who expected instant competency or again, students were ignored if they were clumsy or uncoordinated. I learned to do what I liked, what I could do, what gave me joy, and that turned out to be solo sports, anything like swimming, walking, hiking, archery where I can get in my own head, feel my body move, and let the world fade away.

I've realized though, that now that I'm ready to date, and am looking pretty good, men simply don't look at older women, and by that, thanks to porn, that usually means women over 30, much less someone like me over 50.

However, I have a few theories about that, and I think that we queens can use these realizations as vetting strategy. Older women are simply useless to men. Given that most men are on the power/control axis, and feel entitled to women's attention, time, resources, etc., older women are particularly useless, because we're done giving away our power. We overall know our power, our worth, and any and all willy-nilly male attention just isn't the flattery we used to think it was in pickme days.

We aren't, on the whole, people pleasers. We dress for ourselves. We have our own money, our own housing. We don't NEED men... we'd just like their companionship, on the condition that they're kind, empathetic human beings who are loyal and worthwhile to be around. I've also realized that while men may say, I don't date older, she's lost her looks, that's as far as it goes. They don't look any deeper, or they can't see any deeper than looks. They don't see the mind, or character, or experiences, or insights that make nearly all adult women really cool people because we've done the work. We've leveled ourselves up over and over and over. Men, on the other hand, just don't seem to be there at all. And because men don't have an in to control or manipulate us, they dismiss us. We don't present ourselves as useful to them, so they just keep on moving along.

So from one who's invisible, yeah, I'm frustrated by it on one hand... but having been out of the dating game for decades, I honestly don't know how a man could approach me without me freaking out. I'll never be cool with any stranger approaching cold out in public, that's for sure. In some of the groups I'm in, I'm marginally more open but it's still iffy, depending on his looks, his approach, and if he even comprehends the need to put me at ease.

Let me add as well, that once you've had that awakening, that most males are L/NVMs, who are just out for themselves, who can be with women they really don't like just so they have a regular supply of sex and service, that awakening changes everything. It's not an accomplishment to get picked, at all whatsoever. The accomplishment is our ability to see actions, to detect patterns of behavior, to have the self-esteem and gumption to leave and save our dignity if a man turns out to be passive, or a user, or any type of low/no value. Looking back, I really wonder how many men were really into me, or were they more into what I could do for them? It is not a comfortable thought, but live and learn.

Tonight, I'm feeling particularly undesirable, and I own it. I know it's just a feeling, and it'll pass as it always does. I'll recenter myself, do what brings joy, and just keep moving on. I feel like I'm ready for another relationship, but I also know I can't just snap my fingers and make it so, and there's no settling for less, having been loved well and truly. If I never meet someone, I'm perfectly okay and content living on my own for the rest of my life, and would insist on a LAT relationship anyway. All this to say, queens, I'm convinced more than ever that when a man just doesn't try, he not only doesn't look hard enough, he doesn't see. And I want someone who looks at me with love and appreciation, and sees all the wonders of me and in me as well. Cheers.