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Authors: Chris Evans

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BOOK: Call the Midlife
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In the locker room of the posh gym I attend there is a daily soap opera of who’s got what wrong with them, why and how. It’s like a competition. One maturing man listening reluctantly and faux-sympathetically to another man’s woes, biding his time till he can retaliate with his own ailment, or attempt to trump all comers. Derek’s floating kneecap took some beating for a while.

But why are we going to the gym in the first place?

Simple.

We want to do all we can to remain attractive and feel sexy. Just in case.

Anyone who claims otherwise is lying, pure and simple. Sure, it makes us feel good. Sure, it gets all our endorphins racing around. But it’s actually because somewhere in the deepest recesses of our dormant libido there’s a voice whispering, ‘Psst, come on, don’t give up – there’s life in the old dog yet.’

But the thing is, sex in midlife needs a preservation order slapping
on it. They say that one of the many traits we humans share with monkeys is that we are the only two species who have sex primarily for pleasure. I’m not so sure: I suspect the monkeys may be on their own. As the years tick by, I’m only ever more convinced that we humans have agenda-fuelled intercourse.

By our age, we’ve all had sex when we’re not really in the mood, just as we’ve all been denied sex when we are in the mood. That’s what cups of tea and crosswords are for.

But the overarching issue, for the vast majority of us, is that sex is an ever-diminishing factor in our lives the older, saggier, baggier, and generally LESS BOTHERED we become.

The problem is that sometimes, as we become less bothered about something, we become more conscious of the fact it never existed in the first place.

Whereas when we first have sex with someone new, it just flows, it just happens, it just is. And isn’t it wonderful? New sex is scary and exciting and naughty. New sex is like magic, it can make us feel older when we’re young and younger when we’re older. It liberates us from many of our inhibitions.

As our relationships develop, sex evolves into serving different purposes. To procreate, to help us tell each other we’re still in love where words aren’t enough, to heal wounds or to build bridges, or as a naughty treat. Sex also informs trust. But whichever way we look at it, all the time sex begins to take on all these different meanings, one thing is constantly happening – the sex brakes are gently being squeezed more and more.

The biggest brake for women being childbirth. And who can blame them? Their bodies have just created another human being. The shutters on the shop window are battened down, the factory’s in full swing: why are we whimpering males at all surprised when whispers of ‘Any chance of a quickie?’ are met with the death stare to end all death stares? Considering what their bodies and psyches have just been through, frankly, I’m surprised women ever let us near them again.

Here’s my dilemma, though.

Why do a lot of us blokes carp on when our partners put up the ‘closed for business’ sign? This is the thing that befuddles me. We live in a perfectly full world, too full to even begin to tap the potential of opportunities and possibilities out there. Yet we obsess and fret about something as temporarily irrelevant, unreasonable and unavailable as sex when it’s no longer on the table, at least for the time being.

Basic human need?

No, I’m not having that.

I think the real reason a lot of men get hot under the collar about a sudden or gradual dearth of skin-on-skin with their partner is because it represents a sea-change in the domestic world order.

Similar to when our mums and partners used to think we were hilarious, the kings of comedy and now just say things like,

‘Oh don’t be so stupid.’

‘Take no notice of him, he’s trying to be funny.’

We haven’t changed our act but the audience has moved on.

Our craving for sex isn’t a genuine physical need, it’s a cry for help, for attention and recognition that we might still be part of the scenario in some small but significant way. Nothing at all to do with Dr Saveloy and his meat injection. Yet still we delude ourselves, some poor souls to the extent that they risk everything by going in search of a shag elsewhere.

BIG mistake of course.

To paraphrase Paul Newman: why sneak out for a cheeseburger when there’s a prime rib waiting at home?

Having an affair is another example of perfectly sane human beings going perfectly insane of their own accord.

Even if you can cope with the stress of spinning all the plates and remembering in which order each one might come crashing to the ground, what if you get found out? You stand to lose everything: your house, your life, your family, your wife, everything you’ve ever worked for and everything that IS YOU.

This is stupidity on a colossal scale, yet people convince themselves it’s their only viable option. What about the guy who has completely given up on any intimacy with his wife but can’t bear to
confront the situation and goes for the permanent mistress route instead? Thus perpetuating constant unhappiness at home masked by serial infidelity playing away.

He spends every waking moment deluding himself that he’s having his cake and eating it, while so conflicted inside that he’s only ever one misdial away from a coronary. I’ve seen trapped flies apply more sensible logic.

Sure, there will be fleeting moments where he feels safe and warm and secure. But only like a heroin addict, hoping the initial hit’s going to last forever and no one’s going to get hurt in the crossfire.

And what about the guy I know whose wife came out of the other side of mummydom to triumphantly reclaim her womanhood, hitting the gym and ending up hotter than the devil’s griddle pan. But STILL denying access all areas in the bedroom department? She’d never looked more alluring but this time she was doing it all just for her, or for the world in general, but definitely not for her old man at home.

Not that she imposed a complete ban; the odd intimate moments were permissible. But that’s almost worse. Sometimes it’s more bearable to leave the switch in the off position than flick it on every now and again to confirm what you’re missing.

This is how he eventually handled the situation. Once he and his ego had gotten over the sex desert hurdle, his life changed dramatically for the better. He stopped worrying about it, reclaimed the erstwhile contaminated and obsessed head space, and applied himself instead to passions other than those of the flesh.

One of which was a quest to physically identify each one of Britain’s fifty-nine species of butterfly. At the last count he’d been and tracked down at least twenty-three.

In the meantime the company he owns has doubled in size and value, he’s the fittest he’s ever been, and he now assures me that whenever he and his wife do get it on, she couldn’t be any more accommodating.

Once again the Chinese have it.

LESS IS MORE.

Top Ten Positive Things Men Do in Place of Having to Deal with the Meaning of Life:

10

Sail.

9

DIY.

8

Grow vegetables.

7

Tinker in shed.

6

Tinker in garage.

5

Run.

4

Golf.

3

Fish.

2

Cycle.

1

Watch any/all of the above on television.

The Sex Therapist

Off I skipped off on my merry way to Harley Street to spend a very pleasant and enlightening afternoon in the company of a relationship and sex therapist by the name of Michelle Bassam.

‘Oh no,’ I thought immediately. ‘Please God, don’t let me say bosom instead of Bassam.’

We were meeting to talk turkey about sex. Bosoms are big when it comes to sex. Big bouncing bosoms were suddenly all I could think about. Don’t mention the war! What war?

Aaarrrggghhh.

Michelle’s surgery is located in one of the huge period terraces that line the most famous physician’s street in the world. Only Britain has such streets, something we should be forever proud of.

I am asked to wait in reception until the smiling sun that is Michelle fairly bowls out to meet me. I’ve never talked to a stranger about sex before, not sober at least. I won’t deny I am more than a little excited – in fact I can’t wait.

Michelle is tanned and glowing, a blonde bundle of ‘So tell me, what would you like to know?’ Dressed head to toe in white, trousers
and a vest, she invites me to sit opposite her, but at a slight angle, her left to my right, all for a reason I’m not sure of. The pair of soft, welcoming, sumptuous, brown leather armchairs perfect for the candid conversation we were about to embark upon.

So who comes to see her?

Actually more men than women, although it’s quite close and getting closer since
Fifty Shades of Grey
.

‘Oh yes,
Fifty Shades
has had a marked effect on awaking a previously sexually dormant section of female demographic. Masses of women have suddenly woken up to what they might be missing out on or forgotten was possible. It doesn’t take much. All that fun and the naughtiness.’

Michelle tells me that this is not a new phenomenon.

‘The kind of stuff Jackie Collins used to spoon-feed previous generations was fantastic for people’s sex lives. Once we know something’s there, we’re all keen to tune in. As a result of
Fifty Shades
thousands of UK women are now crying out for sex like never before.’

Is it the same for men?

‘Sadly no, not really. Most men I see are caught in a ménage à trois – but a counter-sexual one, the trois being themselves, their partner and their work. As a result they often end up physically and mentally alienated from their spouse. What used to be a joyous joint hobby has now become an awkward taboo. Sex, that is.’

My goodness, there’s a whole book here, let alone a brief chapter.

Being a man, I am of course aware that we are mad and silly and self-centred and needy. Furthermore, I know it’s because we have a deep-down quandary as to why we’re here at all. Which is why millions of us sit for hours, sometimes days, on the banks of rivers trying to catch fish that we’ll never eat. Or take up golf. Who in their right mind would walk around a big plot of land for four hours trying to get a 1.68 inch-diameter white orb into a hole for no reason in particular?

And if that’s not sad enough, when we’re not doing this, or perhaps when we return home from doing exactly this, we plonk ourselves
in front of the telly to watch other men do the same (only better) for another four or five hours. During which time we might leaf through the sports section of a newspaper or car magazine for good measure.

It doesn’t take a doctor of philosophy to realize this is probably not what we were put on the planet for.

‘It’s for the same reason lots of men throw themselves into their work. And as they do so, everything else can get left behind. It’s the “he’s there, but he’s not there” thing. Physical presence misrepresenting mindful presence more and more in many households.’

There is a direct link between this modernity and what leads to affairs.

‘Sex at home or with a partner often needs to be managed because of everything else that’s going on, whereas sex within affairs is a much more automatic and less demanding prospect.’

And do we actually need sex?

‘I think we do, or at least some form of it. Sex is so much more than just the physical action of a man being with a woman. It’s about experiencing regular intimacy between two people that have been together for a long time and what that means.

‘It makes us feel wanted and loved and special and free. It can take the pressure of doubt away. Almost like the clouds parting after a rapturous thunderstorm when the sun bursts out, to reassure us that everything’s going to be all right.’

Release and relief is another way of putting it.

‘Things happen between two people during sex that don’t happen at any other time in any other way. Things that are uniquely powerful and meaningful. It’s like being recharged with the surety and peace of mind that your partner still loves you and desires you but more than ever. The very elixir most of us pine for and thrive on, a tacit truckload of love that can make a man feel like he can conquer the world and woman dance for the rest of her life.’

But isn’t that the problem? Short-term high, long-term low?

‘It’s only a short-term high if you don’t keep it up. But look at it like going to the gym. If you don’t stick to your regime, things are
going to go pear-shaped – and much quicker than you’d like.

‘Sex should not have to wait until you climb into bed. It should be waiting in the wings, on call 24/7. This serves as a useful tool to help couples feel closer and less alone as they battle the trials and tribulations of everyday life.

‘The odd cheeky text here of what might be on the menu later. Or even a postscript to what might have already taken place the night before. Any little sparkle can lighten the heaviest mood. “Our little secret, no one knows apart from us,” things like that.’

And the best thing?

‘It’s totally legal and entirely free. Usually. What’s not to like?’

All right, Michelle, how about protecting the sex life we may already have or reigniting what we used to have – give us some tips please.

‘Ooh, a mission statement, I love it, let’s go.’ She’s beaming like a Cheshire cat.

‘Partner’s timetables are hugely important. You want your man or woman, you need to book a time. Not clinically, so as to take away any spontaneity, but it’s an important and obvious factor that many people forget or don’t want to admit.

‘Date days are excellent for this. Weekends away without the kids. Silencing the bloomin’ mobile. Make some time, ditch the distractions and give yourself a chance to feel what it is each other is in need of. And there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to packing something saucy for the suitcase. It’s not rocket science, but there is a recipe so you do have to have at least some of the right ingredients.’

BOOK: Call the Midlife
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