You've seen me hundreds of times. You've seen me at the grocery store You've seen me at church. You've even passed right by me as you walked down the sidewalk and you never even nodded in my direction.
At some point in the past 48 years it seems I've become invisible. It wasn't always this way. In my younger years (I hope you'll forgive my immodesty) both younger men and older men most certainly used to take notice of me. If you put a gun to my head I would have to admit that I used to enjoy the attention. You never would have guessed it at the time because it would have been most unladylike to have let you see that side of me.
Yes, you probably even saw me today, but you paid no heed. However, stop for a second and take another look. Take another look at that nondescript woman behind the bake sale table selling her homemade apple pies to raise money for her son's hockey team. My outfit is certainly nothing you would see on the pages of a fashion magazine. You may not see any gray on my head, but that's more a tribute to my hairdresser than to anything else. The only ornamentation that you see is a simple gold cross that I've worn around my neck since my Confirmation Day over 35 years earlier.
Would you believe that just yesterday afternoon this simple, plain older woman lay naked beneath a hulking, sweating black man less than half her age? That her legs were wrapped tightly around his back as he drove into her over and over? How about that her fingernails had left claw marks across his broad muscular back? I bet you would be shocked to hear this supposedly quiet and demur church mouse whimpering into his ear to "Fuck me.....Oh, God....Fuck me hard".
It had started innocently enough as a tennis lesson. My soon-to-be-lover, Mark, was my instructor as he has been for the past year and a half. He had the patience of Job as I continuously hit ball after ball into the net or sent it flying well over the end line. What he didn't know was that the previous day, while picking my son up from hockey practice, I had caught a glimpse of my ex-husband. Or, to be more exact, my ex-husband and his girlfriend!
I sank down behind the wheel of my minivan and (thank god) he didn't see me. I had seen them, though. Bill's new girlfriend looked to be in her mid to late twenties. She was tall, with long legs and long flowing blonde hair. She seemed to be hanging on his every word and you could hear her laughter clear across the parking lot.
When my son came out to the van he never noticed a thing wrong. You see, I am all but invisible to him too. That night, alone in my room, I cried into my pillow harder than I had since I was a little girl. This man that I loved and had promised to be with for the rest of my life; this man who swore that he loved me; this man to whom I had given six children had moved on from me and clearly preferred someone much younger and prettier than me.
Mark finally put an end to my lesson and suggested that we grab something to drink from the juice bar. I sheepishly agreed and felt ashamed of myself for the way I had been acting all afternoon. Mark was so sweet as he talked to me about how my tennis game was really coming along. He told me several times that he loved my form. He told me that any twenty year old would kill to have legs like mine. I laughed his comments off. After all, I never in a hundred years would believe that someone his age could ever have the slightest interest in me. I may have laughed, but deep down I would have to admit that it sure did feel good to have this young man complimenting me. During the course of our conversation Mark mentioned that he sometimes worked on computers on the side to supplement his income.
I blurted out that I was having troubles with my computer, but that I didn't know who to bring it to that I could trust. Mark quickly said that mine was his last lesson of the day and that he would be happy to come over and take a look at it. I felt really embarrassed and told him no. I felt like such a fool, like I had forced him to offer his help. Mark placed his hand over mine and , while looking straight into my eyes, said "You are so beautiful when you blush".
My heart nearly stopped when I heard his words. In all of my 48 years I had never received such a beautiful compliment. Before I could regain my senses, Mark took my hand and helped me to my feet. He said, "Come on. Let's go take a look at it together." Then he added with a chuckle "It'll only cost you a home cooked meal".
