February Modern Women Writing Prompt

Many Faces of Love

Love is mercurial, changing through seasons of age and belief. It’s hard to define, but impossible to live without.

I was recently visiting my 88-year old mom, and we were watching some romantic comedy on Netflix. During a lovemaking scene, I turned to her and said, “Those were the days! I sure miss that sometimes; don’t you?”

I was a “good girl” in my teens and twenties — conservatively religious, quiet, modest — but I more than heeded the advice of Billy Joel’s “Come out Virginia” in my 30s when I left Christianity and my marriage fell apart.

I used to say I entered my teen years around the age of 30. Previously, there were always books (the Bible, writings by saints and monks) prescribing what I could and could not do with my life and my body. The concept of love was sacred, with sexual love always bordering on sinful. When this tradition no longer made sense to me, I realized that I would have to figure out my own beliefs about what was right or wrong. I did it with a vengeance akin to crazy adolescence when you feel invincible.

Love for the Flesh

It started with the naked body. My husband claimed that he saw no problem with nude paintings or photography. I used to think the photography was “sinful.” So I found a photographer who did figure studies and went for a shoot.

I loved it! I felt a sense of power embracing my young, flexible body. The photos were artistic, and my favorite was one of me arched in a backbend over a structure draped in dark blue velvet. I had my head turned away from the camera. If I could find it, I’d add it to this article. It was beautiful.

I framed it and, to my husband’s chagrin, I hung it on a living room wall (the marriage was on the way out anyway after I left the church, though it took a couple years after that for me to request the divorce). I guess nude photography was ok to him as long as it wasn’t his wife.

On New Year’s Eve that year, we had two couples over for dinner. Two of the men — my husband and one of our guests — had been Annapolis Naval Academy grads. Over dessert, the third man (I’ll call him Wayne), much easier-going, turned to me and asked, “Hey Jody, is that you in the photo?”

I didn’t have to say. I hesitated, then smiled and murmured, “Mm hmm.”

Wayne smiled back. “Really?”

I said, “Yup, that’s me.”

“Very nice,” he replied. Meanwhile, the other man nearly slid under the table, apologizing over and over to my husband, “I’m so sorry! I looked at your wife!” Wayne and I nearly peed our pants from laughter. Why would I hang it on the wall if I didn’t think people would look at it? There was that judgment I once put on myself about sin and the naked self rather than accepting and loving oneself and one’s body.

I don’t have the same love for my body that I did as a young woman. I miss putting on makeup without having it puddle up in the many lines around my mouth and eyes. At the same time, I thank my body all the time for allowing me to walk for miles at a time, to dance, to swim, to exist! So far, the accumulating physical pains of senior years have been minor, and I remain energetic and both physically and mentally capable. I love that.

I even revisited figure studies just a couple weeks short of my 50th birthday. Brave, yes! My gorgeous daughter asked if I would do a nude photo shoot with her, and I agreed. I can hardly believe this was 17 years ago. Our time in the studio was an amazing celebration of our love for one another, feeling safe to be fully who we were, comfortable with one another. Her request was a gift, and I cherish those photos.

Love, and Sex

Around my 30th birthday, I began confusing sex for love. After my first husband and I separated, I dated — or at least slept with — more men than I can remember. I’m so lucky I didn’t come down was a sex-related disease.

In the last years of that marriage, sex felt more like a punishment than a pleasure because I no longer loved my husband, but didn’t know how to say “no.” After parting, with no traditions telling me it was sinful to have sex outside of marriage, my body was begging for the joy of passionate pleasure and the release it could bring.

The joy of sex, though it became tempered with some sense and remarriage, lasted nearly three decades, and I am grateful for the experiences it brought me, as well as how it helped me consider the nature of love. It included some heartbreak, especially with one man who I felt sure was my “soulmate” (I don’t believe in those anymore). But I don’t regret a thing.

Sexless for four years now, with a fading body, I doubt I will ever enjoy that pleasure again (which makes me all the more grateful for that time when I couldn’t get enough!)

The loss of sex makes me ponder other ways to gain a deep satisfaction I once attributed to the sensation of a body loving another. I know some people enjoy sex well into their 60s, 70s, 80s. But, at least for me, it requires not only deep emotional attraction, but also physical desire. The latter has alluded me in my mid-60s.

Love of Friends

When I was a young adult, I preferred male friends. I felt that women were always in competition with me, and I trusted men more. Ironic that this has reversed in my senior years, and I now seek out the company of women. I do have two male friends, one in Florida and one in Paris, with whom I will go for a glass of wine or an occasional outing. But these are far from the early years when there was always that spark of potential intimacy.

One of my longest friendships — over 30 years — is with a former lover who I rarely see now due to distance. Years seem to fly by between the chance we may have to catch a lunch together, but the connection remains. I wonder if we will ever see one another in person again. We continue to share photos and humor over FaceBook. We’ve become pals.

I’m an introvert, so I don’t have a large collection of friends. I’d venture to say that I have one close friend in Florida and two in Paris. And I love them. These are women that I can tell anything to, and they to me, without judgment.

Beyond that, especially in Paris, I have large circles of more casual female friends with whom I can always grab a coffee or glass of wine, walk the Seine, enjoy the latest special exhibit at the d’Orsay. Research tells us how important this is for maintaining good health into senior years.

Love of children? I regret the times in which I had terrible fights with my children or when they were in need and I did not know how to help them. At the same time, I’ve seen myself as something of a lioness, defending them against anyone who would criticize them. I may not have always known how to show it, but I adore my kids, and I am proud of them. I like to think we have become friends.

Love and Marriage

I think that marital love has been the most difficult for me. In general, I think so many men are intimidated by highly intelligent, successful women. My first husband came from a second generation Polish family in which the mom gave her life to her many children and was subservient to her husband. So maybe I wasn’t all that intelligent to not see that coming. But I had never been any good at dating. So I married a misogynist, ending with years of nightmarish repercussions.

Second — sweet man, but again, I think the highly capable woman thing eventually evolved into a passive-aggressive situation that I just could not live with. I will say he was such a better father to my children. But once they flew the coup, things went downhill.

Companionship with a spouse these days is so different from what it was in those youthful decades. Perhaps that’s because we are constantly changing, and the changes often take us on different paths.

In the past, something like diverging interests was plenty to make divorce seem the reasonable option to me. Now, not so much. In this phase of our lives, we’ve allowed our care and respect for one another to take precedence in our daily lives. That was not how I viewed marital love as a young person, but it makes sense to me now.

My husband and I have what most would consider a very untraditional relationship, as I live half-time in France, and at this point, he does not. I know other women in France who have similar relationships, but it sure is not typical in our circle of acquaintances in Florida.

I often feel the judgment in Florida, and I am glad that I am at a point where I really don’t care what other people think about my life decisions. They can judge me all they want while I am enjoying myself with friends in Paris! As long as my husband and I have worked it out, it is so none of their business.

In many ways, this unusual and mature relationship is very positive, though the path is sometimes strewn with tough challenges. Though our passions in life have diverged, we share common values and beliefs. And those other things that we both enjoy — opera and symphonies, plays, museums, an occasional comedy club, some travel — we enjoy together.

And Now

I think of myself as a “young senior,” with many years to come. I have always experienced very beautiful expressions of love and had enough decades of life to recognize that love has many aspects. I have had great love for animals, for family and friends, for my work with refugees, countries I have lived in, and hobbies like dance and painting.

Love with great sex is unforgettable — I still find myself recalling the best of it.

Then there is love for self. I don’t know about men, but for women, this has always been a struggle, and I believe it is, at least in part, due to the media and societal messages that constantly make us feel that we are not enough. That’s probably why so many of us loved America Ferrera’s speech in the Barbie movie. We could so relate!

Love of self is always a work in progress. For me, it’s always been the physical, going in and out of a weight that I have felt is “attractive.” Now in my 60s, there are some things I just can’t change about appearance, so the only thing to do is accept and embrace the fact that I am alive and well. And that is A LOT. I have always embraced my intellect and creativity. And I am comfortable and happy with my personality that does not require me to always be surrounded by friends, parties, and social engagements.

For me, like life, love is a process. Taken together, I know that I love being alive. Even when things are difficult, I remind myself that I am thrilled to still live and breathe. Perhaps that is my ultimate love affair.