Classy and sexless!

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This is the new-age dilemma. Some version of this conversation has been going on for days amongst my friends.

If you are my daddy or my kid, don’t read on from here. And if you do, well it’s your own fault. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

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I know this is an age-old dilemma for women but I think it gets worse as you age.  As a single woman, how can you have it all?  This is the catch-22….you like being single; you like sex; you want to be classy.  For whatever reason, these 3 can’t seem to co-exist.  Toss in online dating and the MANY conundrums associated with it and you have the modern day grown woman’s dilemma.

Now I get that I am a grown-ass woman and I can do whatever the heck I want to do…one of the great plusses to being single.  However, I also don’t want to take on the life of a nun either.  And being classy is a state of mind….so logic should say, “do what you want; you don’t answer to anyone.”  I think this may be a product of my southern upbringing.

My BFF and I have had this ongoing discussion for a while now because can we (women in general) separate sex from a relationship?  I’m not sure it’s possible.  The men I’ve discussed this with don’t seem to have this problem.  They have “boxes” for things and evidently they’re not related to one another at all.  This videoexplains it perfectly and it’s quite comical.

Another friend contends that we (me particularly) are placing too much pressure on men to be in a relationship too early.  In all fairness (to me), this is Amy’s position and she’s kind of a hippie anyway.  But the question remains, can older woman have a man-toy without then changing the rules on him and wanting a relationship of some sort?  And should class (or lack thereof) be tied to sex within a relationship as opposed to sex without a relationship?  And most importantly, why aren’t men having these issues?

I can’t make you more by making me LESS!

I love me a hard-working man…a manly man…a man that will climb out of the truck and whoop someone’s ass if necessary.  And I’ve rarely passed a passel of blue jean-clad, hard-hat wearing, up at dawn, men that I didn’t feel the testosterone barrier suck me in.  Something deep in my primitive brain says “that man can take care of me.”  And that’s where it starts ladies…right then and there…the hair twirling, the exaggerated sway of the hips, the licking of lips, the slight glance and innocent smile as you daintily skirt the construction zone that you can’t possibly navigate without the help of a big, strong man.  It’s a beautiful dance and one every southern girl worth her grits has mastered from an early age.

Whoa….yes, you could sop him up with a biscuit (the good ones your grandmother makes, not the canned ones) IN THAT MOMENT.  Been there, done that…several times…and loved every single moment of those early days.  And then the white collar/blue collar dance begins.  Some people can meld their lives into a beautiful shade of pale blue…but for most it’s an oil and water solution that no amount of simmering heat can mix together seamlessly.

Now before you get all up in arms and assume I’m saying that all construction workers are dumb, I AM NOT!  Far from it, skilled labor is an art that is quickly diminished in our society (that’s another post conversation) and a skill set few possess.  What I am saying is that the well-educated female brain harks back to its primitive brain and makes decisions only on that.  Which is fine for about 3 months and then you have to talk, go out in public, introduce him to your friends and family…all of which require long hours of talk….and  you have 2 choices at this point:  be who you are and risk it or start chipping away at yourself to make him appear “bigger and better” to you, to him, to them…

While I’m sure both men and women do this “downplay” of themselves, women surely hold the record.  I’ve yet to meet a woman that hasn’t stepped back from who she really is to make her partner feel more secure.  Maybe it’s the “I work so I can pay” or “I’m going to sell my house so we can start new in something we’ve both built” to a long myriad of excuses for the new partner that everyone knows IS less but you love anyway.  At least temporarily.

But the grip of someone dragging you beneath what you’ve worked, sweated, and clawed so hard for will eventually wear you down.  The “but he loves me” and “damn, he’s good in bed” only lasts through the glow of a honeymoon stage of the relationship before you inadvertently notice you’re slipping.  If you’re lucky, you will have friends that will support your new love but also won’t allow you to sink below who you really are….it’s usually in this period that you realize your two worlds don’t mesh.

AS I post, a gaggle of hard hats and safety vests pull up to the restaurant and I begin to fluff my hair….purely instinct I’m convinced.