Wow - the last post here was August 2009. Now it's 7 months later and I'm finally back. What to report?

Well, clearly I haven't been writing every day and have been spending my energies elsewhere. Research, right? Yes. Research. So what research was so distracting?

Well, there was this relationship, right? I met a very interesting man for whom I have a lot of affection still. The relationship was interesting also, to say the least. He is a much younger man, and that fact created some interesting effects and offered some interesting lessons.

On one hand, I felt much younger than I had in years. My relationship with this man, we'll call him Charlie (you know, protect the innocent and all that), allowed me to feel that youthful, vibrant energy I had so long traded for "maturity." I was suddenly allowed to play and follow those freewheeling impulsed to simply act in joy and abandon. I has given me permission to explore the boundaries of my personality and to choose to act or not act on those impulses. I can dance when I want to and laugh at the most inappropriate things when that laughter pushes its way through. I no longer feel the need to filter everything so much through the "I'm 50" screen.

But this relationship also created the shadow side of youthful expression. I suddenly felt my physical presence was not youthful enough to keep up the facade. I felt somewhat an impostor in his world. Now I'm not sure that would be so if he had been more mature - he himself lives in a youthful world, surrounded by those much younger than he in much of his life situations. But I was suddenly comparing my physical appearance to that of girls much younger.

I found myself peering into mirrors looking for wrinkles and telltale signs of age. Now I have always looked young for my age, so this was a new concern. I've been blessed with good genes and have lived a fairly healthy life style for the last 25 years, so my physical aging has been slow. But now, I found myself comparing my face to those of 25-year-olds. Regardless how young a 50 year old woman looks, she will never look 25. I suddenly noticed my hands and how the veins stand out a little more than they used to. I'd wonder, when I bent my arm a certain way, if that small group of wrinkles near my elbow was obvious and gave away my open secret. These small observations occurred regularly, weighing down the joy I feel at the body I've created through a healthy diet and regular time at the gym.

There were times I felt like a circus act (he'd say occasionally "can you believe she's 50?"), and times I felt like I was invisible as he showered attention on the young women we were around. Clearly, in retrospect, wrapping so much time and energy into this relationship wasn't the sanest idea. But the lessons I learned...

So now I'm back, refocusing my energies where they should be - on my writing and my teaching and being who I really am. So watch for more here - I can't promise 100 in 100 days as I did before, but regular stops here can be anticipated. Till the next installment...