Will you still love me tomorrow?

I had had a lovely weekend. Hanging out with friends in the beautiful English countryside. Eating good food, sharing jokes and wisdom both bad and good. And now the weekend was drawing to a close I had a room in a house I wanted to live in to view on my return to town. Yet I became aware of a sense of disquiet as I pulled into the supermarket car-park to buy food for later that dogged me around the cooked chicken counter and followed me to the basket till and back out to my car again. Settling on my shoulder with a familiar discontented sigh like a dog with one of those lampshade things on that stop it scratching.

It struck me that I might be concerned about moving again, incurring more monthly costs, living at close quarters with people I didn’t know or that it might be just the impact of more change on my already sensitised nervous system.

All of these were possible causes, none of them seemed to hit the spot though and I rooted around in my psyche as I sat in the car, trying to find the source of my discomfort, letting things come to the surface and drift away until I landed upon a twitter exchange which had barely touched my consciousness at the time I saw it but was apparently triggering anxiety way beyond that which the content deserved.

What, I thought, was this about? What had triggered my anxiety in this way, what did I have to consider to sort my head out and let me get on with the day?

The answer surprised me with its simple existential quality. As a woman nearing my 60s I was scared of being replaced by a younger woman. It shocked me mostly because I wasn’t aware of it but that it was activating not only my anxiety but also my responses to other people’s relationship choices which were apparent in the twitter posts and replies. I was shocked by this because I didn’t want this reaction. I didn’t want the fear to start with but I am mature enough to know that being replaced is a possibility in any relationship and one we have to live with in order to trust enough to take the risk of allowing ourselves to love and be loved.

I don’t have an answer to this except to observe it and recognise its presence in my life. Intimate relationships necessarily involve the risk of hurt, let another close at our peril it seems. I know and have experienced being hurt and the author of hurt in another’s life, it has changed me, I am not the same, I guess that’s growth for you.

We risk, we fail, we try again, and perhaps have learned enough at least not to hurt others so much again. I hope so, but we won’t know unless we try will we?


  • HappyComeLucky

    It’s a thought that’s hard to beat into submission when it wants to be heard. My version isn’t about younger versions, it’s about a version who is both musical and has musical and film knowledge – probably literary knowledge too. I don’t have an answer except to remind both of us that we weren’t chosen on stats. There isn’t a comparison site for checking if you can get a better version/deal by switching. We are liked because we are the only us there is. We are liked because of who we are, including who we have been and who we are developing into.

    I hope you feel more peaceful. His.

  • silverdomuk

    An emotional and powerful post.

    M and I have only been together 15 years. She is 45, I am almost 57. We were 30 and 42 when we met, and I was insecure after a miserable 17 year relationship. It took me some time to understand that she loved and wanted me – that I wasn’t going to be replaced by a younger man.

    We all have our demons, and try hard to live with them, manage them. I think this is because they don’t ever truly leave us. Or maybe that’s just me. 🙂

    Wishing you well, as always.

    • eye

      I was surprised by my response to the tweet exchange, which was by the way, completely above board and consensual for all parties, I guess some demons just keep reasserting themselves though! I am still a work in progress it seems 🙂

  • Barrie Ashton

    all I can say eye is that I may not have known you for long on twitter but do know that as far as twitter friends go id never replace you cause I enjoy your company xx hard to believe your nearly 60 eye but even knowing that wouldn’t change how I feel about you xx

  • AW

    I think the last two paragraphs hit the nail on the head there. Society teaches us to be insecure about many things (doubly so for women) and one of them is sadly age.

    Either you’re told younger women are prettier or that you’re now in a fetish “Mature” category.

    It’s easy for me to say just ignore it, but the alternative is to close yourself off and I believe life is far too short and fragile for that.

    For what it’s worth, I think your both your writing and pictures are so highly erotic it’s brought me to orgasm several times!

    Never be anxious for new things

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