by Lucky Lucy | Mar 8, 2015 | break ups, Emotional, Ex, Life, Love, Marriage, Men, Relationships |
Over the past ten years I’ve noticed a trend that doesn’t seem to be diminishing and it’s played on my mind. I’ve tried to twist my perspective this way and that and I still haven’t come up with a definitive answer.
So today I thought I’d write about it and see if you had thoughts to share on the matter.
As a divorced woman in my 40s I’ve watched the relationships of numerous friends and acquaintances break-up. And it’s what has happened next that has me most perplexed.
Invariably the men move on to other relationships quickly while the women generally spend more time in recovery before even dipping their toe in the water again. Most men seem to barely draw breath before launching into something new. They can be emerging from a 10-year relationship or an intense affair and just a few weeks later they’re out there again, ready to repeat the experience. And they do. Within a very short space of time (often weeks or months) they’ll be ensconced in another relationship.
Most women on the other hand seem to take time for more self-reflection. They allow themselves the space to heal and are, often, not the least bit interested in trying on someone new until they’ve sorted through the mess of the old.
When I see this happening time and time again, I find it a little disconcerting.
Is it that men simply don’t need to process what went wrong? Do they truly have the capacity to just compartmentalise their past, stick it in a box and get on with it? Or are women just more inclined to navel-gaze and mull things over for extended periods of time?
As a woman, I can’t claim to know what goes on inside a man’s head when it comes to these things. However I can’t help but think it’s not a healthy pattern to simply go from one relationship into the next without giving yourself the space to think about what went wrong. I also wonder why many men appear to find this type of self-contemplation so hard to do.
Is it that men can’t be alone? Or are they conditioned through our culture and societal expectations that they must have a partner to be considered successful? And so their first thought is they must find someone new and simply forget what came before – they just have to ‘get on with it’ because there are ‘plenty more fish in the sea’.
Now, I’m not advocating that humans are meant to live without companionship. As a wise man once told me, ‘No one really wants to be alone and if they say otherwise they are lying.’ Relationships with other human beings with the accompaniments of companionship, acceptance and physical touch are a vital part of our existence. And like all human beings, I desire that for myself too.
But surely there is more room for the self-awareness that comes from being alone, outside a relationship. And why do most women seem more willing to have that experience and to grant themselves the space to do so?
Are women more adaptable? Can they more easily fill their own inner well? Have many men not been taught how to do this and instead look to have it filled by women?
One of my male friends would tell me it’s all about the male ‘lizard brain’ that is purely motivated by sex and not much else. But I know many women who also value sex highly as a vital way to connect with their partners, so it can’t all be about that.
Like I said at the start of this post, I don’t have an answer to all this. But I do question the behaviour when I see it time and time again. I also know that those emotions that have been shoveled under the carpet will eventually re-surface in a not-so-healthy way in a later relationship and the new partner will have to deal with the male’s unresolved issues from the past.
And, as a woman who’s been on the receiving end of that experience, I have to tell you it’s no fun.
by Lucky Lucy | Nov 27, 2013 | Forty, guest post, Life, Marriage, Self esteem, Women |
Karate Kate is fighting off middle age.
Guest post by Kate G.
The mid-life crisis has come of age.
The paunchy, balding bloke in a red convertible is a thing of the past. In its place is a far more wholesome pursuit to recapture youth and vibrancy.
I’ve labelled it Competitive Middle Ageing.
So what is it?
Competitive Middle Ageing involves preparing a list of goals to achieve before you hit 40.
You know, running a marathon, volunteering in a remote African village, climbing K2, walking Kokoda twice blindfolded while in a potato sack… that kind of thing.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not against people setting goals and achieving them. I think the whole “age is no barrier thing” is highly commendable.
Trouble is, as a mere 38-year-old woman, I’m exhausted just getting through the average week of family life. Juggling the demands of a job, a husband, pets, two preteen daughters and mind-bogglingly complex super statements has me all tuckered out.
Even more sadly, as my long suffering husband will attest, we’re flat out scheduling half an hour for sex, let alone a 50km ride before breakfast.
So, while I’ve watched on as friends have aced their first marathon, taken up fencing, and knocked off a personal best at their latest triathlon, I’ve been doing my best to keep my head down and my wardrobe free of lycra.
You never know, I might just warm to this Competitive Middle Ageing thing in time for my fiftieth.
In the meantime, don’t feel offended if I haven’t “liked” your latest dragon boat win on Facebook. I’m no tall poppy slasher – just someone hoping I won’t be invited to participate in your next event.
Kate G is a harassed 38-year-old mother, wife and communications officer who is hoping to catch a nanna nap sometime soon.
by Lucky Lucy | Mar 2, 2013 | Marriage, Relationships |
Have you ever found yourself saying ‘no’ out of habit?
In what feels like another lifetime ago, I was married to Daniel*. And, in the years after the marriage ended I realised he and I had developed a habit of saying no to what the other person wanted, just because…
Daniel wanted a dog. I said, “No, they’re too much hassle.”
But I’ve always loved dogs.
I said, “I want to plan an overseas holiday”. Daniel said, “I don’t need a holiday”.
But everyone loves holidays and he always enjoyed our trips away together.
We were stuck in what I call ‘a culture of no’ because neither of us were getting what we really wanted. So we just saying no all the time.
I wanted to travel and thought a dog was just another way to keep us stuck at home.
Daniel wanted to finish renovating our house, buy an investment property and plan for a secure financial future. So, the thought of spending all that money on a holiday elicited a big ‘no’ from him.
By the time we got to counseling and started talking about ways we could both get what we wanted, too much damage had been done and it was too late.
The culture of no had become a fixed and rather destructive pattern in our lives.
And it was the symptom of two people who were going in different directions and wanting different things.
We can get stuck in a culture of no in many areas of our lives.
We will say no to amazing and exciting opportunities just because we’re comfortable with how things are now (thank you very much!).
When we’ve done the same thing for years and someone suggests a different approach, we will reject it out of hand (even if it is less complex and will free up time for other things).
And we conveniently forget what was perfect for us six months or six years ago, might not be perfect for us now. After all, everyone changes with the passage of time and yes, we are actually on this planet to learn and grow as human beings. But saying no out of habit stops us learning and growing.
And this culture of no means we miss out on some really great stuff.
We miss out on transforming ourselves into someone even more fabulous.
So the next time you find yourself saying no, stop and ask yourself why you’re doing it. Ask yourself if you’re stuck in a culture of no in your relationships with your partner, your parents, your friends or even with yourself.
You might be surprised to discover all the wonderful things you’ve been blocking out of your life just because you’re used to saying no.
by Lucky Lucy | Oct 13, 2012 | Dress, Love, Marriage, Wedding |
I donated my wedding dress to Lifeline the other day. I’d been thinking about it for a while but I was never quite ready. It was symbol of my other life; that married life I ended almost seven years ago.
The dress has been hiding out in a suitcase, on top of a bookcase, in my study. And every now and then I’ve looked at that suitcase and thought, what am I going to do with that dress.
I don’t think there is a huge market for a wedding dress worn once in 1995. And I’ve always thought that some bride-to-be would think my own marriage bad luck would rub off on them if they wore my dress. I would definitely think that way if it was me.
But then one day I realised it was time to let it go. It was a symbol of a time that has now passed. And like all things we hold on to for a bit too long, maybe I needed to let it go so something new could come into my life.
Of course, I had to try it on again first.
When I took it out of the box it was just as perfect and beautiful as the first time I wore it. It was all ivory satin and tulle with gold patterns across the bodice. It was still a fairytale princess dress.
But the princess dress no longer fitted me. I’m probably two sizes bigger than I was back then so I couldn’t get the zip up. Still, I could imagine what it would like if I was just that little bit slimmer.
For a few moments I was my 22 year old self again and I remembered the romance and optimism and everything else I felt when I wore that dress for the first time.
I remembered my garter falling off as I got out of the wedding car just before I began my walk to the rotunda and my beloved.
I remembered my bridesmaid holding my skirt up so I could go to the toilet at the reception venue (there was just so much tulle and then a petticoat with more tulle still).
But most of all I remembered the hope that was attached to that dress and to every wedding – the hope for love and commitment forever.
Strangely though, none of these of feelings were melancholic. I didn’t feel sad or depressed. Instead I remembered all those things with joy.
And as I drove to Lifeline to donate my dress I felt uplifted and released and full of hope that my time for love is not yet done.
The Lifeline ladies were grateful for my donation and one said, ‘It must be hard to give it (the dress) up.’
I said, ‘No. It’s time.’
And as I drove home I thought again, ‘Yes. It is my time.’
Over the past ten years I’ve noticed a trend that doesn’t seem to be diminishing and it’s played on my mind. I’ve tried to twist my perspective this way and that and I still haven’t come up with a definitive answer.
