FOUR-EYED IN THE FIFTIES

“Boys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses” was conventional wisdom when I was in high school. I dutifully wore mine in class, but in the hallway hid my bland, grey-framed glasses in my schoolbag. When a new day dawned – an era of pink spackled frames, cat-eye ovals, and wire- rimmed aviators — I used my after-school job money to buy a sea-green plastic creation with contrasting lavender “wings.”

I wore my drama queen glasses in and out of class, and in the years to come became a proud wearer of glasses in myriad shapes and sizes, as well as a connoisseur of glasses accessories — black silk cords, red plastic lariats, hard and soft cases, cases lined in polka-dots and hearts. I therefore jumped at the chance, as a member of Vibrant Nation’s Vibrant Influencer Network, to review Dioptics’ chic, hardworking sunglasses that fit over prescription glasses comfortably and efficiently.

A CLASSIC CASE

Dioptics sent me a free-sample pair of Solar Shield® sunglasses in their Classic style. I liked that the Dioptics web site includes a size chart with diagrams. I requested “large” because I hoped they’d fit each of my several pairs of prescription glasses, as indeed they did.

The first thing to like about Dioptics’ products (besides their very reasonable price) is how stylish they are. The second thing you notice is how the scratch-resistant lenses are crystal-clear. On the first day of my Dioptics evaluation, I passed the glasses to my neighbor Alicia during our early morning walk. Like me, Alicia is a senior gal with a killer myopia, and astigmatism thrown in for good measure. “The lenses are amazingly clear,” she agreed. “They’re nothing like those clunky things the eye doctor gives you!”

She was referring to the serviceable but bulky one-piece plastic shields the eye doc dispenses just before you stumble out of the office with still-dilated pupils into the blare of an afternoon sun. The Solar Shield® designs are molded into designer shapes and fitted with lenses that block 100% UVA/UVB. They even allow peripheral vision through a tricky little side panel.

MAYBE NOT ALL THE TIME

When I drive, will I use these in lieu of my prescription sunglasses? I’m sure I won’t — that is, when I’m going the distance. But when I’m running errands, jumping into and out of stores, I’d like to be free of the need to take off a sun pair and put on a clear pair. The Dioptics could make it a one-step instead of a two step process.

I have high hopes for Dioptics at the beach. I have a hard time reading in bright sunlight because I use clear magnifiers, and these are the first fit-over sunglasses I’ve found that can shield the sun without reducing the quality of the printed page. I tried the sun test on my balcony, but without the misery of sand burrowing into my waistband it’s just not the same. I look forward to some beach reads and the security that faux-glamour eyewear imparts.

Granny endured this with what seemed like good humor, and I was way into adulthood before I wondered why she didn’t clobber the first child who attempted such ignominy.

THE FIRM ARMS GENE-IE PASSED ME BY

Bat-wings are genetically programmed, and I  seem to belong to the same gene pool as the zaftic model for Rubens’ Andromeda paintings. My best friend’s genes are more upper arm friendly. At her niece’s recent wedding, she wrapped her slender 62-year-old body in a green strapless gown, displaying smooth, well-toned arms that would not shame a 30 year old. She’s a regular at her gym, but still….

I’m better off than Granny was at my age, having spent years doing weights, push-ups  and Pilates. Nevertheless, I detect an incipient jiggle, and I’m facing a crepey-limbs future with all the aplomb of a homesteader watching a strip mall rise where her garden used to be.

Arm flab says decrepitude in a way no other body feature does. Droopy breasts — there’s an app for that (see: brassieres), and droopy cheeks and eyelids can be plumped with Juvederm. Arm flab won’t be quick-fixed. With arm flab, it’s going to be long sleeves forever — or submitting to brachioplasty, a surgical procedure that modifies upper arm wiggle. Unfortunately, the operation can leave a nasty scar that might rival the bat-wing itself.

THE SURGICAL SOLUTION (OUCH)

Brachioplasty can be a good idea after significant weight loss, or if loose skin keeps causing rashes as it brushes relentlessly against your torso. Otherwise, unless you are a person of unlimited wealth and a lunatic desire to cosmetically alter your entire body, you’d be wise to leave your arms alone.  Bat wings are a heartbreak, but it’s hard to imagine they’d be a deal-breaker in the dating game, that a potential partner would say, “she’s smart, fun, a marvelous conversationalist, and great in bed, but I can’t deal with the flab on the underside of her arms.”

NOW FOR THE BAD NEWS

You WILL have bat-wing arms – if not now, by the time you’re 65. Here’s more bad news: it doesn’t matter if you’re razor-thin or chubby, female or male; age-related arm flab is an equal opportunity affliction.

The good news is that if you’re willing to work hard you can minimize the problem. You might try the excellent exercise regime of the First Lady, whose toned arms are an inspiration to mid-life women everywhere, even those who disavow her husband’s policies. NOTE: These exercises will not work miracles. If you already have a dangle of skin flab, no exercise will make it disappear completely.

As for limiting oneself to long sleeves only — blouses, dresses, sweaters, t-shirts, coats, jackets, bathrobes, beach robes — I’m a coward, but you don’t have to be. Life is good. Get out there! Reach up, up, up, and let the breeze gently rustle those skin folds! Bat-Wing Power!

Note: A version of this blog post first appeared in the Huffington Post. See:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/sienna-jae-fein/bat-wings_b_2654326.html

This assessment seems unnecessarily harsh, but there is reason not to ignore it at its core. What if women – senior women especially — are looking not merely for love, but for security? What if after decades of shelter in marriages that ended with death or divorce, we are confused and fearful about how to maneuver the financial part of our suddenly-single lives?

SO…HOW MUCH PFIZER HAVE YOU GOT?

Men have told me that it’s common for women to bring up finances before they’ve finished their first date lattes. Some women are not shy about asking brand new acquaintances to enumerate their holdings in stocks and bonds. Others take a more subtle approach – they suggest dinner at an upscale restaurant. If the guy balks, the relationship is doomed before it begins.

I have no sympathy for women whose reason to partner up is entirely financial. On the other hand, I know that money fears can unbalance a senior gal who has lost her partner, especially one who entirely managed the family assets. In such a case, wanting to tie up with someone solvent is predictably in the forefront of her mind.

If a widow or divorcee has been single long enough to file an income tax return, she’ll have been exposed to the disparity between filing married and filing single. For marrieds, joint returns are the sweet spot. “A single person never pays less than a couple with the same amount of income as the single person,” writes Dr. Bella DePaulo, author of   Singled Out: How Singles Are Stereotyped, Stigmatized, and Ignored, and Still Live Happily Ever After.

Much of the fight against marital status discrimination is led by young or midlife women in the work force, like Dr. DePaulo. Many of them are single by choice, with salaries high enough to cause them serious distress when it comes to paying taxes and managing IRAs and Social Security. According to the website www.Onely.org, a single person earning $80,000 per year could easily spend a million dollars more than his or her married peer over the course of a lifetime – and this is based on only a few of the most discriminatory laws!

SINGLE BY CHOICE? FOR SENIOR GALS, NOT SO MUCH

Sixty-plus women are in a different category. Most of us who were born in the 1940′s and 1950′s, when marriage was an imperative, are not committed singles. For us, being abruptly single is socially startling, like realizing that you don’t have a date for the prom. We chose to be married, and were enveloped in those marriage structures for large chunks of our lives. Some of us are still active in the workforce, and some of us are living on retirement income. Some of us were involved in family finance, but many of us didn’t want to be — or had husbands / partners who held the money reins tightly.

“Single” is the other term for “widowed” and “divorced.” This status will bring us sometimes shocking penalties, but I’m guessing that on this day, the very day our “single” returns are due to the IRS, too few of us have yet grasped the extent to which marriage status discrimination has affected our bottom line. We need to pay better attention to the effect of singles penalties.

JUST-LOVE WILL ALWAYS OUTCLASS JUST-MONEY

At our age, if we’re really looking to un-single ourselves, there’s no shame in being curious about a potential partner’s income level. Later-in-life partnerships are about sharing, ideally on an equal basis. What’s shameful is demanding to know a man’s financial worth when you’ve only just learned his name. Singles penalties are deplorable, but no more so than tying up with a man whose best feature is his stock  portfolio.

Bad Date blogs are popular, and they are multiplying fast. I want my own blog to be an antidote to these bad date chronicles because I have a relentlessly positive attitude about dating. Some dates are underwhelming, some encounters are disappointing, but no date is a complete waste of time. Bad Date bloggers disagree; they have a different, coarser message: it’s a jungle out there, and you’ll be dating a series of apes.

I’M OKAY, BUT YOU — UH, NO

Not all dating bloggers hold themselves blameless when a date fails, but too many of them do. Moments after the front door closes on an imperfect evening, their keyboards are hammering out the unwavering message:  I’m fine, but the other person is an idiot.

Churlish writing about dating disappointment is cathartic for Bad Date bloggers, most of whom are 30-somethings, but it’s discouraging for us older gals. We don’t have a lot of time. What if the first dozen men we meet are unsuitable (or as the bloggers would have it, complete jerks)?  What if it takes too long — years — to find a suitable partner? What if it’s true that the dating pool is full of nothing but losers, scammers, liars, and cheapskates, and we’re forced to settle for someone we can only just barely stand?

TIME FOR A WIDER PERSPECTIVE

After age 60 it takes a special kind of courage to jump into the dating game. Now that we’ve made up our minds to find a match, it’s going to be harmful to dwell on grim predictions. There are both slugs and sharks in the pool, but the men we’ll meet are not the sum of their faults. It’s not only they who must show up with good manners, intelligent conversation, and a pleasant appearance. We’ve got to meet their standards, too.

Most readers of this blog have loved and lost life partners though death or divorce. The memory of a loving relationship can be impetus to launch a quest for someone new. The best candidate for a new relationship, they say, is someone who has experienced a happy one in the past. Why? Because the expectation is one of happiness, which will always work better than a grim pairing of damaged souls.

A 60+ man will bring plenty of baggage to a new relationship, but if you dismiss every man who has quirks you’ll be alone for the rest of your life. You can’t turn a cheapskate into a big spender – learn to do without expensive gifts. You can’t make a gourmand of a picky eater – eat more simply and eat at home more often. If the almost-perfect man doesn’t share your love for cats, you’ll have to weigh the effect of losing him or the cat, and although cats are indeed marvelous creatures, I hope you’ll choose the man.

IT TAKES TIME AND PLENTY OF IT

Some things take more time than we’d like, especially at our age, but a date is just a date, not a mandate to find a permanent partner. Plenty of men who are wonderful dates would be the dreariest of husbands. Composure is important. And staying open to new adventures. Patience is everything when you’re dating senior men.

You’re not into that kind of long-term character contouring. You crave a ready match and you’re working from a compatibility list (loves dogs, plays chess, financially independent). Now, how willing are you to modify or even disregard that list?

CUTENESS AS RELIEF FROM THE GRUELING SEARCH

I’m not talking about stuff like “always puts down the toilet seat” or “admires my off-key singing.” The lists I oppose are  dead-serious inventories: things you insist on and things you won’t stand for.

Lists don’t facilitate the love quest; they imperil it. Right now, all over America, love-seekers are huddled over their Starbucks lattes, wondering how to extricate themselves from time-wasting chats with new acquaintances who don’t pass the test. “This woman looked totally hot on line,” I imagine one man thinking, “but 10 pounds over my weight limit is 10 pounds too many.” Women’s brains, too, are sifting silently through lists. Metallica fan: Check. No kids at home: Check. Likes to ski: No. Ivy League: No.

How will anyone who is ruled by a list ever find a satisfactory partner? Recently a friend ended an intensely-committed-forever relationship, his fourth this year. When I expressed my sympathies he actually responded, “I should have known not to get involved with her when I saw how far I’d strayed from my list.”

Technically speaking, none of us is list-less. A woman who had an unfaithful husband is hoping for a man who’s inclined to fidelity. The man whose wife squandered the family fortune wants fiscal prudence next time. Widows and widowers often look for people who embody the best traits of their lost spouses.

KEEPING MYSTERY IN THE MATCH

The most realistic lists are unconscious, residing in the depths of memory, and what draws one person to another is ultimately unquantifiable, even mysterious. We can wish for a partner who is gorgeous, agile, and well-heeled, but life rarely delivers up the ideal. How is it not stupendous to find someone who combines average good looks, modest financial assets and flawed physique with a penchant for loving you madly? Less-than-perfect will more than suffice for the openhearted.

“This might be it,” my friend chuckled. “Last night she locked him out of the house and threw his suits, shirts, underwear, and shaving stuff out of their bedroom window.” We guffawed. Old people acting like — well, the rest of us. How gross is that?

Now I know that senior love affairs are every bit as physically intense and emotionally draining as those of the young.

Older couples’ brawls, not unlike those of their younger counterparts, are usually triggered by minor annoyances. Something that would ordinarily be written off is magnified (she stayed too long at the office; he threw his dirty socks on the floor). Underneath lie the substantive reasons, the ones that are rarely acknowledged.

AGING AND RAGING

All couples battle, and sometimes someone packs up and heads for the door. Here’s where it gets more complicated for senior couples than it is for younger pairs. Google “breakup” and you’ll find a ton of advice for 20- and 30-somethings, all of which adds up to “get over him/her and get ready for your next love.”

This is good advice for someone who’s looking to live out another six or seven decades. But time will be less generous to 50-plus couples. What if a serious fight leads to a permanent break? If you’re over 60 you could be alone for the rest of your life. This is especially true if you’re a woman.

According to a Harvard Health Publications special report on sexuality and aging, “a woman’s chances of finding a new mate in her age bracket dwindles yearly,” and because there are only 7 men for every 10 women by the time we reach 65, women are in for a scramble if they want to find a partner. Numbers aren’t the whole story, of course, and men face barriers too, including things like performance anxiety or widower’s  guilt about starting a new relationship.

THE INEVITABILITY OF ANGER

The answer isn’t “Don’t fight.” It’s more like, “Keep fights reasonable and get over them fast.” Reasonable means:

• no name calling
• no cheap-shot accusations of sexual ineptitude
• no invidious comparison to persons dated earlier then discarded for cause

Some time ago, before we learned better, I had an unreasonable fight with PASHA. He stormed out, and for a while I stayed with some “good riddance” feelings. Because our relationship thrives on a silly humor which, if heard by outsiders would brand us as geezers even older than we actually are, his phoned plea for reconciliation ended with a quip. “Match.com won’t take me — they dropped their over-the-hill category,” he said wryly, underscoring our shared understanding that “get over it and get ready for your next love” sounds ridiculous at our age.

QUARRELING AS RECREATION

If you’re in a teen-type hormonal tizzy, a measured and careful way of fighting will seem lackluster in the extreme. Those who are young — and those who imagine they are — are known to instigate down-and-dirty mêlées purely for the pleasure of making up with equal vigor.  ”Don’t go to bed mad; stay up and fight,” Phyllis Diller famously said, and her comment certainly implies some physical intensity — both in the fight’s duration and in its much more fun and juicier denouement. I admit that this recreational style works well for some. It’s a time-honored ploy.

PASHA and I are honoring time with our own ploy — we stay away from pushing the hot buttons. It never leaves our minds, this miracle of finding new love after suffering the deaths of our beloved life partners. Knowing that for us time is compacted, we don’t want to waste a minute playing “gotcha” in a game of trivial complaints.

Note: This is an adaptation of an article written earlier by Sienna; it appeared in The Huffington Post. 

GIRLS JUST WANNA…

I’m representing the senior dating point of view on a panel titled Erotica Out In The Open.  Dozens of conference attendees are hugging the door, and more are waiting inside. Ten years ago, these women might have been exchanging tips on raising toddlers or coping with sexual harassment. Today they are talking about their vibrators.

“I keep a bunch of different kinds in my bedside table.”

“For couples, it’s better to have a range of speed settings.”

“I hate that one. It’s WAY too noisy.”

“…And then the battery died” (guffaws).

TALKING ABOUT TOYS: THE NEW FREEDOM

Sex toys are not new; they’re found in 30,000-year-old cave drawings. What’s new is chattering blithely about them in public. In the dark ages before the Internet, pleasure seekers had to slink furtively into a real store and choose from the items on display — or coax the owner to bring out the really edgy stuff. Now the Web is awash in thousands of gadgets in every conceivable color, size, shape, speed, and price range.

Men and women of all ages use sex toys, but for the young, owning a vibrator may be as necessary as owning a smart phone. Young people are SO device-dependent. The idea of limiting sex to mere human interaction may seem to them as archaic as listening to music on a boombox.

At BlogHer12, a woman who looked to be about 25 volunteered that she preferred machine-aided clitoral stimulation. “It’s faster,” she said cheerfully. I smiled, though secretly I was alarmed that I may have missed a sea change in sex practices – speed as a measure of sexual satisfaction.

LOVING THE BLOGHER12 VIBE.

It was a kick to be surrounded by women brimming with creativity and eager to learn more about their writing craft. Sharing the stage with three writers who blog almost exclusively about sex, I worried no one would want to hear my old-gal message, but the audience was generous, and responsive in equal measure to me and to my engaging co-panelists, Twanna Hines, Arielle Loren, and Lauren Marie Fleming.

When Erotica Out in the Open was over we were swarmed by women who wanted to know more about what it’s like to talk about sex on line. A sales rep handed me a packet of lube. Someone suggested I join the comedy circuit with a standup routine about dating senior men. And sure enough, there was more talk of gadgets.

I looked for a mature face, someone who might remember that once upon a time there was no such thing as a pink silicone Clitoral Hummer. A tall woman in her 50s approached.  “What do YOU think about vibrators?” I asked boldly.

“I’m addicted,” she grinned. “I used to think I loved shopping for SHOES, but….”

PREHISTORY AND THE SEX THING — WHO KNEW?

Our ancestors huddled in caves, fled from sabre-toothed tigers, ate roasted lizard, and died at 35. Female sexual satisfaction was not much on their minds.

The first man to elicit an orgasm from a female partner may have had a eureka! moment much like that of the guy who ate the first oyster or lit the first campfire. But I’m betting he didn’t know what a momentous discovery he’d made.

HE:  “What the #*%!^?*!? is the matter with you?”

SHE: “I just felt incredibly, fantastically good there for a few moments…”

HE:  ”Well, put a sock in it next time. Your shrieking interrupts my concentration.”

THE EVOLUTION OF THE ORGASM

Civilization has passed through many millennia, all of them sympathetic to male supremacy. Now, in the Age of Information Glut, every sentient man knows women are not only capable of orgasms, but insist on them. Staring out from magazines, newspapers, and screens of every size and resolution are the faces of super-confident hotties whose message is plainly, “If you don’t get me off, pal, you’re gone.”

Now that everyone knows what a clitoris is, there is equal opportunity for all. Prior to the groundbreaking discovery that clitoral stimulation was THE big factor in orgasm, men could imagine that the erect male member was the whole of the ecstasy package. These days accidental orgasm is passé, an embarrassment, a sign that a man is not doing his job.

BUT ON THE DOWNSIDE….

Female self-affirmation has unleashed a tidal wave of performance anxiety. Men who once feared mere death now live in terror of erectile dysfunction.  It’s not just grandpas who are using Viagra. Studies suggest that younger men too experience E.D.  For those with no physical ailment, the cause is most often fear of comparison, fear of not — er– measuring up.

Old guys’ E.D. is more physical than emotional.  University of Chicago researchers say about one-third of American men 50-65 suffer from E.D. and from ages 65 to 85 the figure jumps to 44 percent. Older men aren’t reporting the kind of performance anxiety that comes from fear of comparison, partly because they’ve had time to hone their skills in long-term marriages or in multiple relationships over time.  And unless they’re wooing women young enough to be their daughters or granddaughters, they can count on the understanding of women partners mature enough to have been through the same wars.

WHAT OLD GUYS FEAR THE MOST   

For old guys it’s not performance anxiety. It’s fear of the Last Erection. When a man of 60 experiences a temporary limp-out he’s positive that this is the moment he’s dreaded for the last decade. OMG my last erection was THE last.

This sort of flawed thinking can introduce anxiousness into otherwise vigorous and spontaneous lovemaking.  If only the order were reversed – first the ejaculation, then the foreplay!  Getting rid of the Big If right away, senior men could relax and focus more happily on the ecstasy-inducing moves the modern woman requires.

We don’t want it that way, of course. Women have had enough of being the afterthought. But ironically, we senior gals can benefit from Big If stress, because guys who are bummed about not having the rock-hard erections they had in their 20s will simply try harder to please, which means they won’t be settling for the accidental orgasm — and neither will you.

IN LA-LA LAND, NOT HA-HA LAND

The worst thing about people who don’t have a sense of humor is that they don’t know they don’t have one. If I had said to this man, “you’re humorless,” he might have said, “Why, that’s ridiculous! I like a joke as well as the next man.” He did indeed respond well to jokes — as long as the humor was not at all subtle, made no ethnic or national references, and hadn’t a syllable of profanity. His life was a series of strivings interrupted by the occasional knock-knock joke.

Senior men and women know about heartache, and they know that without comic relief life’s vicissitudes can be soul-crushing. Humor is high on their lists of desirable traits in a partner. Ninety five percent of mature men and women posting online dating profiles say they require a sense of humor. The other 5% are curmudgeons who just want someone to cook, keep the house clean, or pay the bills.

GRIN AND BEAR IT

Looking for an old guy who will make you laugh is great, but you’d be wise to recognize the ups and downs of old guy wit.  A lengthy repertoire of jokes is not necessarily what you need. Telling jokes – or laughing at them — is not what having a sense of humor is about. What it IS about is viewing life through a lens of lightheartedness.

The man you want is one who can find fun in the moment, who can make you laugh at your wrinkles, who will convince you that “bad hair day” is a term reserved for the digestive idiosyncrasies of cats. In turn, you appreciate his gift of upbeat banter and you show it (good humor is catching).

The best relationships thrive on inside jokes, and the goofier these are the more they bind a couple and make them weak with happiness, though an outsider listening to their repartee would surely think them a pair of idiots.

“I GOT A MILLION OF ‘EM”

Hold out for someone optimistic and cheery. Well, not TOO cheery. Buoyancy, confidence, good will, and just a little silliness are what you’re looking for. Spending days and nights with a serial joke teller, a devotee of slapstick, or someone who makes light of absolutely everything is not going to do it for you.  Too much jocularity is just as bad as too much sex.

Wait! Is there such a thing as too much sex?!?

THREE WOMEN, THREE REACTIONS

My neighbor of long ago – I’ll call her Jean – used to describe her marriage as ideal. That was before she came home two days early from a business trip and found her husband handcuffed to the bedpost with a leather-clad dominatrix looming over him. Twenty years and many thousands of dollars worth of therapy sessions later, Jean and her husband are still together, and were seen last year at their daughter’s wedding, holding hands and beaming with shared pride.

“Lisa”, my colleague and wife of a city magazine editor, was enjoying herself at an office party when she spotted her husband’s secretary emerging disheveled from a storage closet. Moments later the closet door re-opened and her husband slithered guiltily from inside. Since that moment in 1993, Lisa has not spoken except through an attorney to the man who is now her former husband.

“Mimi” has told me that when her live-in lover fails to appear as planned, she goes out to search for him, driving up and down the streets of her small town. She usually finds his car parked in front of one of several now-familiar apartments. She leaves notes on his windshield telling him in colorful language that his infidelities are making her suicidal.  She knows he’ll be home in a few hours and they’ll engage in furious quarrelling followed by extra-passionate love-making. Mimi is 62; her lover is 67.

A NUMERICAL SCALE OF BLAME?

What is it about infidelity that causes such a variety of reactions? Is it simply the fact of that infidelity, or is it the circumstances that surround it? Is there a 1-to-10 scale of blame and pain? Is catching your partner in a one-night stand a mere three on the pain scale, while learning he’s involved in a serious, long term relationship is maybe a nine?  Is his secret visit to a prostitute more forgivable than a sloppy flirtation witnessed by a roomful your friends?

We are all products of our culture and upbringing, which accounts in part for why some women give straying partners the boot and others take a “boys will be boys” position. In a special category are those women who find their unfaithful partners all the more attractive (“If other women want him, he must be worth more than I thought!”). When sex after discovery of a lover’s indiscretion is all that exhilarating, these women are their cheating partners’ enablers.

Forgiving a cheater is a hot-button topic for women of any age, but for older women it has a special poignancy. No matter how strong our bodies, our egos and spirits are frail. The little voice inside says, “at my age, this is it.” Finding a lover/spouse in one’s sixth or seventh decade is a coup. It may seem as though abandoning it will close all doors, even those that are merely ajar. Without the wider opportunities and longer timeline available to women decades younger, older women are likely to stick and stay. But how to forgive?

FORGIVENESS AS THERAPY

Forgiveness may seem like swallowing too much of one’s pride, and some women disappear instead into self-pity — or revenge. But forgiveness is not condoning bad behavior, or even reconciling with someone who has done something so hurtful. Forgiveness is not for the cheater; it’s for the cheated-on. It’s not letting him go free; it’s freeing yourself of debilitating, long-term physical and mental upset.

Whether you’re a forgiver or a hanger-on, there’s one thing we all probably agree on. Hopping into bed with the perpetrator is not forgiveness in its healthiest form.