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Twenty years after hearing the “women reach their sexual peak at 35” chestnut in high school, I am sheepishly confessing: I want to bang just about everyone.
In short, we are all approaching 35, and we are all as horny as teens.
) make arrangements with a younger party: “Hey, I love my [wife/girlfriend/whatever] but I really need to get some sleep this month, godspeed.” I personally think that we suddenly teenagery adults should have the sex equivalent of a pen pal, where you would be matched up with someone who also wants to have sex X number of times a day and likes to do Y. We don’t talk about female desire very honestly in our culture.
(You’d think this would sort of be Ok Cupid, but the ironic invisibility of over-30s women on dating sites is a subject for another time.)The thing about this kind of hunger, though, is that at some level it’s not fulfillable. For centuries, women’s sexual appetites have been designated either monstrous and terrifying (see: the Wife of Bath, vagina dentata) or essentially nonexistent (close your eyes and think of England).
Women like pink because it was their job to gather berries!
Women like brawny men because who else is going to nut-punch a velociraptor!
But I also don’t find a lot of models for what my friends and I are experiencing, because so many of our ideas about female sexuality come from this tainted well.
We’re left to muddle it out on our own, which prompts the cognitive dissonance we all experienced as we rocketed into our overclocked thirties: this Mars and Venus bullshit is REAL?!The thing no one mentions is that, like your poor sex-starved high school boyfriend, thirtysomething you might find herself in a relationship with someone whose libido has not just spiked high enough to escape earth’s orbit and fly into the sun. You wonder if your partner (if you have a partner) is having an affair, and that’s why he or she isn’t up for boning 24/7.One friend and I joke about starting a sex-swapping app, where the exhausted partners of thirtysomething women can (consensually! You watch trashy TV shows because the characters are sexy and might take off some clothes (see: the entire CW lineup—Misha Collins, CALL ME). You think about having an affair yourself, and maybe you do.The virgin/whore dichotomy has been around for centuries, but “cougars” are a recent phenomenon, often discussed with a distinct mix of revulsion and drooling lust.In the cougar, the 35-year-old at her sexual peak is at least visible, but through the patriarchal gaze, she’s no kind of role model.The boys in my sex ed class had plenty of (often problematic) models for what male sexuality might look like after they survived adolescence.