The need for affection and love

Back in the day, when I was in my twenties, married women who were the age that I am now often struggled with the idea that they could make a life of their own. It's not that they couldn't entertain themselves perfectly well, or find meaningful ways to engage with the world and support good causes. Rather, what they would have loved was for their husbands to come along with them in the new chapter of their lives, post-family raising; perhaps to travel the world, or simply to enjoy life in their own neighbourhood, spending some quality time together having fun. It doesn't have to be grand. My brother and his wife travel about Australia in a caravan (trailer) and have a blast.

As Anna Murdoch discovered when she tried to insist Rupert change, some things are entirely impossible. He was never going to quietly shift into a semi-retirement era of his life. Lonely, she turned to study and writing (hmmm, ring any bells??) and then later they divorced. Still beautiful and full of life, she found another man.

There are other options, of course. I had conversations with a woman in her late 50s at that time, when I was in my 20s, and she told me what a struggle it had been to accept an invitation to a cocktail party on her own. Eventually tired of declining social invitations, since her husband was so often unable to attend, she took the bold step of seeing her life in another way and started attending these occasions on her own. She would have adored for her husband to attend with her, but she reached this point where she realized that he wasn't going to come her way and thus, she didn't leave him, but she did create a life of meaning for herself in other personal and commercial pursuits. She took the next best step.

There is no doubt about the fact that I am an old-fashioned gal who very much wanted a close marriage and to raise a loving family. A little introverted, not really a party gal, for many years I was relatively happy to put much of my energies into raising a family. I did very little under my own steam, often explaining that I couldn't do this or that because of some family or wifely duty or other. For example, the next door neighbour, when we lived in the States, invited me to walk with her after dinner, but I couldn't conceive of leaving the family each evening to do the dishes on their own. (Don't skip over the last sentence. This is what many women do - little sacrifices for the happiness and convenience of others. It can quickly get out of control, so if you do this, remember to respect your own needs. Learn from me, that's the secondary reason for this blog!)

But, something happens to a woman in her 50s,  at the time that her intense mothering duties come to an end. She wants to attach herself again to her husband, or I do, and to reach more deeply into the union; to have some fun and lightness in the marriage. Still, I recognize, like Anna, that my husband is unlikely to change his ways, not in the near future and maybe not at all. I'm just starting to realize that I may have to partake some activities and fun on my own. I've booked myself into a meditation retreat later in the year and that's a huge step for me.

There's the additional factor that I am kinky. I have been shown what heaven it is to melt into the bimbo, empty-headed sexual space, and I suffer when I am not led there, or supervised there on a regular basis. Ideally, that space is far more than a sexual space. It is also a spiritually enriching experience for me; an opportunity for me to feel at home in my own skin, accepted for all that I am. But, even if I can't be entirely accepted for all that I am - my husband would never have expressed himself in this way to me, if I hadn't confessed of my kinkiness to him - I experience great succor from the sexual/sensual experience itself.

We had words recently and it is in these moments that people might reveal themselves. 'Unless you get that BDSM stuff...' There it was; a put down of my kink. This hurts more than I can say and I pull away again from having my needs met. I am happy to say that he does fulfil my needs on occasion and enjoys doing so, but it is the curse of someone who has needs out of the mainstream when their partner who can live without it speaks like that.

I had written this post up to this point when I went to my weekly group meditation. At the 50 minute point, maybe the 55 or 56 minute point, something happened; a consolidation I am sure of the reading that I have done this past week.

'I love myself' I said in my head.

I allowed the statement to be thought several more times since I have never had that happen before in a meditation and nor do I run around thinking that thought at all. This was a new thing.

Now, I have used another strategy off and on for the past few years. When I am sorely lacking in love, or feeel that way in any case, I hold one hand in the other, or allow fingertips of one hand to touch the other, and I tell myself, 'You are your own best friend. I won't ever leave you.' But, I love myself, that's a completely new thought. I definitely want to work some more with that.

Once upon a time, a good and kind correspondent of mine asked me what would be enough; how much love would be enough? It's a good question, and maybe the fact that this 'I love myself'  thought is entirely new in my late 50s speaks to this notion: How much love is indeed enough?

A month or so ago one of my sons met a girl. He didn't really want a 'relationship' with her but she got under his skin and that's what they currently have. She's been around to the house many times and last night my son asked if I had some beef casserole and brown rice for her. 'Of course,' I said. He whispered, 'She is eating crap right now.' As I passed over the bowl of food she began to tear up. 'Is it the steam?' I asked. She shook her head and moved away. My son whispered, 'She's overwhelmed at the kindness.' 'Darling, you are very welcome here,' I said. My heart wept for her.

She's had an awful start in life, a most unpleasant family life and she's trying hard to make it on her own. My son got up at the crack of dawn to take her to work because she has an injured back at the moment and he didn't want her lifting the heavy crates of milk. Apparently, the boss couldn't care less. It was at that moment I realized that my son is a carer. He likes to take care of people and it was no surprise that she wanted him as a boyfriend, sorely in need of love and care as she is.

I have zero doubt that our early experiences shape our needs and that some of us are left needing more shows of affection and love than others. At the same time, some of us are left needing to care for others more. That feels entirely right to them.

There are theories that abound about the love addict (chronic craving for romantic love) and the love avoidant (I want to care for you but don't smother me). This is important research and should be taken seriously. However, I think there is the simple scenario of some people needing to feel affection in and on their bodies due to their childhoods, and those that are particularly good about understanding this and providing it. I think of a 'Latin Lover' when I say this, someone who comes up behind his spouse/partner regularly and squeezes her, telling her that she is beautiful. It doesn't take all that much to keep such a person happy.