Looking for Mr. Right in a He'll Do World

I’m divorced; have been for a really long time. Many men in my demographic are not comfortable with and/or actively seeking a tall (yeah, men shrink as they age at a much faster rate than women), smart (I have a graduate degree), employed (part-time, but I still have commitments), independent (I don’t ask permission) woman of … limited means to meet men, much less date them and think toward tomorrow. No matter how old they get, men want cute little girls for whom they can provide everything and get whatever they want in return, which is pretty much the definition of sycophant. When you’re in your sixties, that cute little girl may be in her 20s-30s-40s, but that’s what men want. Women like me? To be honest, I’d like a cute little man in his 40s!!! but he’s looking for a cute little girl/boy in her/his 20s.

No longer does the term “age appropriate” apply -- not to toys, clothes, or lifestyle.

Another personal failing is that I read trashy romance novels (TRNs), so I have expectations. I do want a man who could change a diaper if he had to do so, or cook a meal, or clean the house, or do the laundry, and will take out the trash on collection day. I want a man who can do the grocery shopping, even if it includes a “feminine product,” which at this stage of the game is most likely Depends. I want a man who never asks me “What’s for dinner,” but welcomes me home with savory sauces bubbling merrily on the still-clean stove. I don’t mind doing dishes, but it’s kinda fun to have someone to talk to while you’re washing/drying/putting away the dinner detritus. Mia is a great listener, but she seldom has much to say: I want a man who not only listens, but engages in the conversation, too.

I want a man who wants me. Just me. Not pretentions or fantasies, but me, warts, weight issues, and all other pre-existing conditions. I need to be enough for him, not leave him wanting more, nor demanding more than I have to give. We all come with baggage, so I have to accept him and he has to accept me just the way we are. Just the way we snore. Just the way we’ve bored ourselves into comforting routines that we’ll adjust to accommodate another person, but probably not change altogether.

I was away this weekend, putting in long days with family and having a ball, but I booked a hotel so I could have some downtime, some quiet time, and I brought a TRN to read, instead of turning on the TV. It’s a collection of stories by 4 different authors and the first one starts quickly and involves a quirky character I think I’ll enjoy because we have qualities in common. She meets a man (remember Trashy Romance Novel) she compares to Prince Charming, and then totally captures the dating scene for single women:

“And this is what I know about princes--the prince is probably gay, I’d have to deal with his supercilious mother, the queen, I don’t admire men in tights, and if I want a horse I can buy myself a whole damned stable.” (Cathy Lamb, Whale Island)

The only change I have to make to that description of single woman society in the sixties is that instead of the supercilious mother, I have to deal with the saintly dead wife and/or the totally manipulative bitch ex-wife, neither of whom is a step up from a supercilious mother, believe me.

I thought about trying my hand at writing TRNs for the more mature woman, celebrating that she, too, can enjoy the challenge to find Mr. Right in a He'll Do world, but the results always ended with a funereal undertone. I lost my enthusiasm for the project and decided to stick with the happily ever after stories already on the market and live vicariously through the youth who read them.