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Flirting into the Fifth Decade and Beyond

Feeling the pleasure of having bagged another book for her bulging collection of “must reads,” Cindy walked out of the bookstore and passed the construction crew repairing the sidewalk. As she headed to her car she looked over her shoulder, the middle-aged gray haired man who had been directing the crew when she entered the store was now right behind her. “Don’t worry,” he smiled “I’m not following you.” Not missing a beat, Cindy quipped “Oh, it’s been a long time since I was followed!” “Yeah” he grinned knowingly, “I’m just happy my hair is all one color again.” A pleasant crackle of playful, flirtatious energy passed between them carried by wit and intelligence, not youthful perfection or prurient intent. 

 

Sitting with great discomfort having nothing to do with the chair, Melinda began to explain why she had come to see the dating coach. “It undoubtedly added to the causes of my divorce,” Melinda began, “but I realize that I have not flexed my flirting muscle in a long time and have no idea whether it’s still there.” The coach reassuringly explained, “We’ve done the research and can teach you quite specifically how to signal your availability and interest without coming off as a wanna-be-twenty-something. What’s most important is your own recognition and enjoyment of your strengths. Those are the things you will feel empowered to flaunt.”

 

A woman’s sex appeal has little to do with her age and everything to do with her comfort with herself.

 

After years of marriage, Stuart still paused to watch his wife come out of the shower. That small appreciative glance spoke volumes. In turn, there were regular moments, often in public, when she would reach toward him with a touch that conveyed, “I’m attracted to this man,” which not only reminded him of that but made a flirty, loving statement to others about how she holds him.

 

Being at home in one’s body and enjoying the play of sexual charge ought ripen with time.

 

Our first role models for the play of sexual energy are our parents. Mine regularly allowed us to witness aspects of their delight in each other. It made quite an impression on me to watch my father push back his chair after dinner each evening and invite my mom to sit on his lap while we kids did the dishes. Last month at my Dad’s 90th birthday, my Mother asked my father to dance. He accepted. In front of all of us they danced as if no one else were in the room but them, Mom singing along with Anne Murray:

         Could I have this dance for the rest of my life?

         Would you be my partner every night?

         When we’re together, it feels so right.

         Could I have this dance for the rest of my life?

 

Nothing could have been more touching and innately sexy, at any age