From men to mid life crises, from Botox to Brazilians, from infertility to infidelity, every week Jacqui Leigh gives her personal take on being a fortysomething woman
Have I missed something?
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It hit me like a sledgehammer. The realisation that I’m already completely fed up with hearing about Wills and Kate. If I never see another picture of them it’ll be too soon. Suddenly my whole life stretches me out in a series of mind numbing pictorials of Kate’s sensible fashion choices, her clenched smile, that skinny frame and her husband’s metamorphosis into Prince Charles.
I’m so bored! And it will only end when I die.
Is it me? Have I missed something?
I’ve had a weird week, having discovered that my new love Daniel has been lying to me. I kind of knew it all along. I think I told you that his house, really didn’t feel like a shared house and then there was the box of toys under the bed. So that was kind of a clue. I more or less guessed that there was something going on but to be honest, I like him so much, or maybe I like sex with him so much, that part of me hasn’t wanted to know.
Well, this week, as we were smooching at his front door when we looked round and saw a small frail woman being helped out of a car by another woman.
Imagine my surprise when he literally pushed me away from him and went over to help. For a moment I thought, how sweet, how kind, how weird. Then I realised he was helping her into his house.
As I stood back to let them pass me, he muttered, 'This is Helga'. Helga, I thought to myself. Funny, Daniel forgot to mention you.
So that’s it. My twenty nine year old boyfriend is living at home with his mother. She’s Swedish, she’s in her mid fifties and she has ME. Not something I know very much about but you can bet I’ve Googled it now. Apart from her occasional trips to her family in Sweden, little Daniel is her primary carer.
I’m sorry if I sound unsympathetic but I hate being lied to. Daniel is too young for me and while I’ve spent the last few weeks floating on a rapturous loved up cloud of happiness I suppose it’s too much to seriously expect that this relationship is meant to last, right? So why should I be so upset that he hasn’t told me the truth? I’m not really entitled to it.
Anyway I can guess why. He’s worried that knowing about his mother would send most women running a mile. It also explains I guess why he might be drawn to an older women, like me. It’s either because we fortysomethings are less likely to demand commitment since clearly he’s got his hands full. Either that or after caring for his mum for all these years, he’s looking for a mother figure in me. I’m thinking too much but suddenly I feel a whole lot less desirable...
I’m not angry with him. To be honest I’m in awe of people like him. But I just wish he’d told me.
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