And so it is that a highly motivated, conscientious wife, mother and professional woman who’s worked half her lifetime to achieve a position of responsibility and respect is suddenly transformed into a 14-year-old with a crush on the captain of the football team.
WHY EMOTIONALLY DISCERNING WOMEN DON’T MARRY CHICK MAGNETS
Here we come to the central question in the lives of the highly sexual, emotionally intelligent woman. Should she marry Mr. Orgasm — knowing full well that if she does, she’ll likely be sharing him with countless nameless women (not literally nameless — they all have names, of course — she just won’t know what they are) who’ll come onto him or onto whom he’ll come?
Or should she marry the less charismatic, less sexually-charged man and have a good, steady marriage to a man who’ll be there for her and their children every day and every night, but who never could be (even when young) and who never will be a chick magnet?
If she wants a life of dependability and stability, and if she doesn’t want to share her husband with dozens or hundreds of other (potentially STD-infected) women during her marriage, she chooses exactly as you did, as any sane woman who wants a sane adulthood would and does.
The problem arises when an erotic snake like young Mr. Orgasm slithers into your life and, by his very presence, plus his skillful, manipulative playing on your weaknesses, reminds you of what you’ve been missing.
WHEN A PLAINTIVE SUITOR TURNS INTO A SUITED PLAINTIFF
One day, about six months from now — if you were to give in to your yearnings – you’ll have to tell your young lover that you must stay home with your husband and children one Sunday afternoon instead of going to your tryst with him. Within 24 hour after you’ve spurned him, Mr. Orgasm can change from the charmingly panting young lover to the scorned and humiliated former lover, sitting in the general counsel’s office signing an affidavit, claiming that you seduced and sexually harassed him.
Of course, there’ll be no merit to his complaint, but after you’ve paid your lawyer half your savings to clear your good name, you’ll have lost far too much that you’ll never be able to recover.
THE DESIRE FOR ONE LAST MOMENT OF SPLENDOR IN THE GRASS
I well understand your desire for one last hurrah before you go from a fit 50 who looks 40 to a fit 70 who looks 60.
Of course you want another Charisma T. Orgasm before the sun sets — as set it will — on your days of splendor in the grass.
I don’t aspire to be a wet blanket or a killjoy, but when I see a hardworking woman, a loving wife and mother, driving 120 mph and heading straight to Heartbreak Hotel, I have an obligation to urge her to apply her right foot to the brakes as hard as she possibly can. Then go home. Read Anna Karenina.
If you don’t have time for a magnificent 976-page Russian novel, (free download) see the 94-minute film (but only the version with Greta Garbo), also a powerful experience. Either way, you’ll come away with a renewed sense of gratitude for your husband and children.
You’ll always have a tug in your heart and a hot, wet, throbbing desire for your young mentee, and for all the men just like him in the decades ahead who’ll do their best – and their best will be mighty powerful – to lure you into bed with them.
Look in the mirror and practice saying, “I’m married and you’re married. If we weren’t, everything might be different, but we are and it isn’t.” Repeat it over and over until it’s ready to be deployed whenever this and future Mr. Orgasms give you their patented come-hither looks that have worked with hundreds of women before you, and will work with hundreds of women after you.
Then watch Anna Karenina again and again and again until you get the message: no good will come of this. It isn’t worth the fleeting pleasure for a lifetime of regret. It isn’t. If you’re filled with feelings of guilt now, you’ll be drowning in oceans of it as long as you live if you go forward with this affair, or any others during your marriage.
USE THE PERSPECTIVE OF THE BLIMP SHOT
Use the method that networks use to cover NFL games: the blimp shot. From up in the blimp, every Mr. Orgasm looks like an ant. Picture him as an ant. A fire ant, who will ruin your house. He’s an ant! He’ll provide a night of pleasure in exchange for a lifetime reservation at Heartbreak Hotel. You don’t want to live there.
As a highly-sexed woman, it’s your ineluctable fate to be both pursued by and drawn to these feckless, reckless men. I wish I could say it isn’t, but it is. Your duty to yourself – even more than to your husband, children and profession — is to remind yourself that the middle name of every one of these tempting, silver-tongued seducers is Trouble.
YOU ARE MORE THAN THE SUM OF YOUR EROGENOUS ZONES
Think back to those hunks of your 20s: the stress, the constant disrespect, and the insults you withstood when dealing with the Mr. Orgasms of the world. They forced you off the road. They are nasty pieces of work once you get to know them, so you drove off, bloodied but unbowed, and married a fine human being and not one of those wily wolves that prey on every highly-sexed woman they can sniff.
Let them sniff someone else. You’ll find that every one of them carries a double-edged sword, a sword that wounds you deeply in your heart and soul even as it arouses your erogenous zones. Remember this: you are more than the sum of your erogenous zones. You have other zones that Mr. Orgasm will damage, and on which he’ll wreak havoc with his own patented genius for conferring pain irresponsibly while feeling none himself.
If this description of Charisma T. Orgasm doesn’t reduce your desire for your young mentee, perhaps a few lines — 14 to be exact, since it’s a sonnet — by William Shakespeare may help. Emphasis is added for, well, emphasis:
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action; and till action, lust
Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
Enjoy’d no sooner but despised straight,
Past reason hunted, and no sooner had
Past reason hated, as a swallow’d bait
On purpose laid to make the taker mad;
Mad in pursuit and in possession so;
Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;
Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
IF TALKS WITH YOUR CLERGYMAN, PLUS READING WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, HENRY JAMES, LEO TOLSTOY & THIS ADVICE COLUMN DON’T WORK, HERE’S HOW TO FIND A GOOD THERAPIST
If, after talking with your clergyman, arranging a transfer for your youthful pursuer, reading A Portrait of a Lady, Anna Karenina, Shakespeare’s Sonnet 129 and thinking about this column, you feel the need to discuss the strain of living with a man you love with whom you can no longer enjoy traditional sexual intercourse, go here to find yourself a therapist.
If at first you feel uncomfortable, try another. It may take meeting with five or six before you find a therapist with whom you’re on the same wavelength. One session is usually enough for you to tell if you can work together. It isn’t that there are “rotten apples” in the field of psychotherapy: there are thousands of excellent apples with whom you can still be incompatible. Psychotherapy involves working closely as a team with another human being. If you don’t like your fellow team member, return to that website and find someone else. Keep trying until you find someone with whom you can spend between a few months and a few years. However long it takes, it’s worth it, regardless of what others say who’ve had bad luck and gave up after two or three unsatisfactory meetings.
Carly Simon finally concluded that she didn’t “have time for the pain.” You, too, would weary of the cruel, heartless narcissism of this and every other Mr. Charisma T. Orgasm, no matter how gorgeously appealing he is right this second.
To paraphrase Barry Goldwater’s campaign slogan of 1964, in your heart, you know I’m right.
If you don’t, watch Anna Karenina again, take two aspirin and email me in the morning.
Send your questions about personal, political or cultural matters, or anything else that’s on your mind to Belladonna Rogers at firstname.lastname@example.org . All correspondence with her is confidential, and all names, locations, places of employment and ages of the parties will be changed to protect the privacy of the readers who write to contribute questions.