I wanna be having sex at 70

I was sitting in a cafe the other day with a friend, and at the table behind us were four sixty-or-seventy-something women, chatting and laughing over coffee and cake. We had been caught up in our own conversation and hadn’t been paying them much attention, but when they started talking about Fifty Shades of Grey, we couldn’t help overhearing them, and then actively trying to eavesdrop.

One of the ladies was talking about how it was atrociously written but that she couldn’t put it down. One of them was saying that she felt really sorry for the main girl in it, that she couldn’t understand the whole S&M vibe and what was attractive about it. One of them said that she was really disappointed that her husband had been away on a trip for the week that she was reading it because she had felt very ‘keen’. And the last said that her husband had been most disappointed because it hadn’t made her any ‘keener’ at all!

In short, their conversations about the book were like those of most women, regardless of age. I’ve heard friends my age say all of the above things in reference to the books. Nothing unusual about any of it.

And yet, my friend and I were giggling away. I think I was giggling out of a moronic primary school notion of ‘Tee-hee! They’re talking about sex!’. Which is childish and silly, but oh well. I soon realised that my friend, however, was laughing because they were ‘old’ and talking about sex. And when I realised this, I called her on it: “But don’t you want to be having sex when you’re 70?”

“Well yeah, I suppose,” she said, “but it’s gross! I definitely don’t want to think about 70 year olds doing it and have that image in my head!”

Why is the concept of older women and sex funny? Or even, to a degree, middle age women and sex? I want to put it out there that it’s not funny or gross or weird.

In fact, it is what I am aiming for! I want to be in a decades-long relationship with the love of my life that is still going strong emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, and yes, physically, at age 70. I hope to be doing it loud and proud in my seventies and beyond. I hope that my partner and I are getting down and dirty at whatever age because we love each other so massively much. And maybe my boobs won’t be as perky (maybe he’ll have his own boobs by then anyway), and maybe our bottoms will be sagging and our gardens-of-wonder grey. But I bloody well hope that by then, we will both have acquired enough wisdom that it won’t matter one little bit. We will see each other for who we Really are. We’ll just be glad we still have each other and will want to celebrate that fact anyway we know how…

categories: Love
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