13 hours ago
I'm sick of my single friends boring me with their raunchy love lives!
Time with old friends should be treasured – especially as one gets older.
So when I recently arranged to meet a friend from my college days for coffee, I was looking forward to catching up: we're the same age – late 40s – and both have teenage children. We've always had so much to bond over – sharing joys and worries about our kids, work and midlife.
That is, until she got divorced ten months ago.
Now I find myself subjected to tales – often highly explicit – about her latest liaison.
Last time we met, I sat gripping my oat milk Americano for dear life as she regaled me with stories about the two new flings she is 'balancing' – an older, wealthy man, and a 'hot' 29-year-old, neither of whom knows of the other's existence – and the 'incredible sex' she is enjoying with both.
This, of course, is far superior to the sex she had with her ex-husband.
In truth, I was utterly relieved when it was time for us to say our goodbyes.
So when I read Kate Mulvey, writing in Femail Magazine last month, huff that her married friends should ditch their husbands to listen to her tales of singledom and put 'girl time' first, I was incensed.
Kate complained that her girlfriends often cut short their meet-ups, answer the phone to their husbands during their dinners or – God forbid – let their husband join them for a quick drink at the end of a girls' night.
Well, Kate, I've done all these things, and find this kind of behaviour entirely normal. It's far more acceptable than – as you describe yourself doing – inviting friends to read the 'risqué texts' you've shared with your latest dalliance.
I've been married to my husband Cornel for 16 years and I love it; the closeness of our relationship, not to mention the camaraderie of raising two children.
We've moved countries together, faced health scares side-by-side, and continue to share life's ups and downs. As corny as it sounds, my husband is also my best friend.
So, no, I don't feel guilty if he interrupts my time with a friend by texting me. It might be something as simple as him asking if we need anything in the supermarket – or if I am having a good time. I think it would be rude to ignore him, so I reply.
Nor would I mind if he pitched up at the end of an evening to say hello. He knows all my friends after all – why shouldn't he? On the occasions I do go out at night, he'll sometimes pick me up and say hi to everyone at the end. He's gregarious, so I hope my friends don't mind. They've never indicated otherwise.
Kate also complained that her friends' husbands track their location on their phones. Well, we do this, too. What's the harm? It makes sense when we have two kids to taxi about to know where the other one is.
However, my newly divorced friend would describe my life as a 'prison'; an incarceration brought about by my own hand.
Now her marriage is behind her, she is suddenly full of feminist views about the confinements of being tied to a husband, the patriarchy and 'traditional gender roles'. (Notably, she said none of this when she was married.)
'Don't you get bored of married life?' she asked during one of our coffee dates, looking at me with pity.
'Er, no,' I replied.
'Sex? Non-existent?' she queried.
Yes, and that's fine with me. In fact, I'd rather a tame 'vanilla' sex life than the embarrassing raunch-fest she seems to be indulging in.
Last time we met, I tried to steer the conversation on to things other than sex – like gardening and the fact I've got some bamboo struggling to take in my garden. But I was quickly silenced when she pulled her phone out and insisted we swipe through men on Tinder.
Some of them looked young enough to be her son and, to be frank, it just got boring.
Herein lies the irony – my newly unattached friends harp on about loving their single, feminist freedom, yet all they talk about ad nauseam is men! And don't get me started on her orgasm monologues.
'It's just so much better when you're not married,' she repeatedly tells me.
It's all a bit, well, vulgar.
I see far more freedom in my life: I'm no longer judged on my looks and can relax make-up-free in my comfy clothes at home. (Indeed, the idea of a stranger seeing me naked makes me feel unwell.)
My energy can be reserved for myself, my husband and my family, rather than subjecting myself to the humiliations of the current dating climate of swiping right and left.
I find it so reductive, diminishing everything to sex and appearance. I'm all for a divorcee getting out there again and having fun. Good for you, ladies! But, really, I shouldn't have to hear about every twist, turn and thrust.
All this may sound like envy; that I am some sort of bitter midlife woman who wishes she could play the field, too.
I can assure you, it isn't. It's simply that there's nothing more dull than hearing about yet another 'hook-up', or the latest man's prowess in bed.
So to all my single friends: I'd love to meet up, but let's just talk about our kids, careers, or holidays. And, yes, my husband will probably call me, and may even come along. Nothing would make me happier. He is my best friend, after all...
