DEAR BEL,
I’m male, in my mid-40s, with a responsible job and rewarding creative opportunities, but I’ve never had a relationship and remain a virgin.
I was a shy, lanky, arty, non-sporty spotty teenager, bullied, with no contact with girls. I hoped to meet someone at college, then work, but although I met nice girls, I had no confidence.
Eventually, I gave up trying to meet someone when it became clear I was never going to earn enough money even to rent my own place.
Bel recommends joining clubs and activities as a way of meeting people'
And, with the death of my father, I did not want to leave my mother in the lurch.
A few years ago, some bad health made me realise I should try, and I decided to give internet dating a go.
I’ve met some lovely women, but after a few years there’s not been a ‘click’. I do wonder if I’m somehow revealing my inexperience in a way I’m unaware of, because so far nothing’s progressed beyond a date or two. I can’t pretend to be what I’m not, I can only be myself.
In any case, I was aware that my living arrangements would be a bit of a letdown for women expecting some degree of independence at my age. But, thankfully, this hasn’t been the case with every lady I’ve met;
My real fear is that if I’m lucky enough to meet someone special, when it comes to sex, my complete lack of any real-life experience will prove to be an even bigger turn-off. I guess I’d like to hear that I’m worrying unnecessarily.
Some will doubtless say I should have visited a prostitute long ago, but risking an STD just for sex would be no substitute for true affection.
If someone doesn’t truly care for me as I am, what would be the point? There are other ways to direct your passions, and it’s not as if I don’t have friends.
As an optimist, I can’t accept it’s too late for me, but as a realist I wonder occasionally if I’m wasting my time and setting up false hopes.
Any advice you could give me, and to others in similar circumstances, would be very welcome.
ROB
More from Bel Mooney...
Two weeks after your email, I received one from ‘Colin’ with exactly the same problem. He doesn’t say whether he’s actually still a virgin, but he’s reached his 40s having had no luck at all with women, and: ‘I am at my wits’ end, almost in tears as I write this.’
Like you, he has tried dates, but they come to nothing and he describes his looks as ‘extremely average’.
You feel disadvantaged because you still live with your mother (and to be honest, many women will find that strange, even though your reasons are valid); Colin’s shifts means he works ‘long hours, often at night’.
Of course, the more worried and lacking in confidence and envious of the happiness of others you both are, the more convinced you become that (in Colin’s words) ‘there is no light at the end of the tunnel'
Well, the good news is — there is light, but the tunnel is not straight, which means it’s hard to see the glimmer at the end. Both of you have had a tough time, and I’m really sympathetic — because nowadays we really are brainwashed on all sides to think that sex is easily available and almost a right.
I could suggest you consult sex-advice websites, but I honestly believe they will make you feel even worse.
Your use of the phrase ‘any real-life experience’ makes me slightly concerned that you’ve been fantasising over porn (don’t be insulted if this isn’t true; plenty of men do) which is the very last thing that will help your hang-up over still being a virgin. Many lies are told about sex — and there are damaging myths about performance.
Honestly, when one day you meet a kind, loving woman, she might even like the fact that she is your first love. I think it would make many women feel even more tender;
I reckon that both you and Colin have to look critically at yourselves and be ready to do some work. This isn’t just about looks, but you could start there.
I recently read an article by a woman going on internet dates. Her descriptions were quite funny, but sad, too — because the men were often scruffy, self-absorbed to the point of utter tedium, with no idea how to get on with a woman. Why?
For that matter, why do you write ‘I can only be myself’ — when that isn’t the case? We can all be more than one person. Start thinking of yourself as one of those revolving disco-balls with many, many facets and realise that there is more than one side to sparkle in the light.
Next, I want you to read two good books: Love Begins At Forty by Cherry Gilchrist and Lara Owen (Hay House) and The Relate Guide To Finding Love by Barbara Bloomfield (Vermilion).
Do questionnaires. Be honest about how you’ve behaved in the past and be open-minded about change. Pick up tips!
You could do a lot worse than to buy Psychologies magazine, as well as Woman&Home and She (to name but three), to give you some insights into what interests women and how we think.
I haven’t mentioned your sexual history (or lack of it), not because I think it unimportant, but because I don’t consider it the most significant issue here.
Naturally, I wish you’d experienced the usual adolescent fumbles leading to inexpert sex — but not everybody does.
I also wish you didn’t still live with your mother. But since realistically neither situation is likely to change in the near future, the question is — what to do after the ‘research’ activities I suggest above?
Here’s where I return (as so often!) to the age-old advice of joining clubs, activities etc, as a way to meet new friends. Dating websites are all about the pressure of Meeting A Partner To Find Love.
But joining a dance class, the Ramblers’ Association, dog walking volunteers, French conversation or cookery and so on — such interests are about doing something new with like-minded people.
You sound like a slow-build kind of man — and so does Colin.
So perhaps you ought to forget the longing to ‘click’ with a lover and realise that gradually developing a deep, affectionate friendship can lead to love.
In turn, love and affection lead to cuddles, and cuddles have a natural outcome. So stop worrying and make some positive changes in your life.
A life sacrificed for an autistic son
DEAR BEL,
My best friend, whom I love like a sister, has made herself into a martyr for her 18-year-old autistic son. We met when her sons were four and two (the younger was later diagnosed with autism, Asperger’s and speech and language disorder).
She put her whole being into researching her son’s ailment and did a wonderful job.
He grew into a pleasant child, but the one problem was, he was never disciplined: the word ‘no’ would reduce him to hysterics and for a quiet life she always acquiesced.
He didn’t have a routine or boundaries — it was always ‘his choice’ and the object was always to ‘have fun’.
Now my friend has been diagnosed with Fibromyalgia syndrome, yet she persists in putting her son’s wants/needs before her own.
He still expects her to make his milkshakes in spite of her failing health.
I have tried to support her but feel she is actually doing them both a disservice — because no one else is going to allow his behaviour.
As for my friend, it seems to me that there is less and less of her each time I see her. She will brook no suggestions that he needs to try to be less dependent and has become a tyrant. I no longer feel I can be a party to this.
What will he do if/when his mother is no longer capable? I don’t want to lose her, but I feel stuck in the middle and have no idea which way to turn.
MEGAN
Your letter isn’t about raising an autistic child, nor even about the importance of setting down boundaries for all children — which is a subject I feel strongly about, believing that giving a child, any child, too many choices is harmful.
This is a letter about friendship and the lengths we will go to for the sake of a beloved friend.
Since the boy is now 18, it’s too late to change the dynamic; therefore, when you say ‘I no longer feel I can be a party to this’, you are raising the possibility of abandoning your friend to her fate. Which isn’t what you mean, is it?
For a friend suffering with Fibromyalgia who may get headaches (a common symptom), you could treat her to a facial with head massage;
Loving your friend, your vital job is to try to understand. For a start, her son’s behaviour is not at all uncommon in children and adults with autism.
She did copious research when he was diagnosed, and now I think it would be a good idea for you to find out more, too.
There is an Autism Helpline (0845 070 4004, 10am-4pm) which you could try, and take a look at autism.org.uk/socialskills and autism.org.uk/behaviourfaq (in fact, the whole website) for information about what she is dealing with.
Your lack of sympathy for her son won’t help, nor will using phrases such as ‘martyr’ and ‘tyrant’ — even inside your mind. Don’t look back at her child-rearing; look forward to how you can help.
I’d like to know where the older brother fits in and whether he offers support. Her new condition could well be triggered by the stress of the past 18 years, and she’s probably worried sick about her autistic son’s chances of an independent life.
Gently encourage her to talk. Make sure she knows her entitlements, such as disability living allowance. Since gentle exercise is good for her, maybe see if there is a pilates (or similar) class you can join together.
If she suffers from headaches (a common symptom), you could treat her to a facial with head massage, which is wonderfully relaxing. Investigate other complementary theories with her and suggest she looks carefully at her diet.
Do you see what I’m getting at? Don’t criticise her — or the son to whom she is devoted. Give her some tender, loving care — and buy him a cook-book for teens, which includes milkshake recipes, suggesting he becomes expert at making them for Mum.
...and finally
Put your lives on record
Many of you enjoyed the article (Mail, July 9) about my feelings on listening to a professional recording of my father talking about his life.
It triggered memories of parents and made some readers determined to contact the people at ‘Lives on Record’.
Others vowed to record their parents’ memories themselves. One man wrote sadly that he was penning an autobiography, ‘but my children aren’t very interested’.
Childhood: Bel Mooney and her father, Edward Mooney, Ainsdale Beach 1954;
He should realise that they will be one day and just get on with it. For those who fancy starting a similar project, I recommend a really useful, inspiring book called Your Life, Your Story, by Cherry Gilchrist.
She begins: ‘Writing your life story is a unique contribution to the world that only you can make’ and emphasises ‘creating precious narrative for family and friends’. In other words, do it for love and the joy of sharing.
Creating a memoir — either as a private person or as a professional writer — can be very cathartic.
Setting down personal memories and thoughts can help you make sense of life, and whoever you share your words with may find they’re helped, too.
This has been my experience in the year since my own memoir was published. It’s just out in paperback with a slight tweak to the title — A Small Dog Saved My Life.
My aim in sharing my personal story of love, loss, divorce, recovery — and dogs — was to try to be useful to others. And the letters I’ve received have moved me beyond words.
For example: ‘My husband left me after 27 years and your words of encouragement and wisdom give hope and comfort.’
There were so many like that (see the news section of my website belmooney.co.uk).
But one lady wrote after a terrible bereavement: ‘I just wanted to tell you how much your book has comforted me, even more so because it’s not about the specific grief that I am experiencing.’
Sometimes I’m asked how I can bear to make what’s private, public. I reply that’s what we writers do — it’s the story of our lives
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