Old and Sexy

A few months ago, I saw a wonderful movie, Calle Malaga. It’s the story of a woman, Maria Ángeles, played by luminous Spanish actress Carmen Maura, re-finding her identity and power, along with her own desire and the potential for love in the form of her slyly sexy co-star Abslam, played by Ahmed Boulane.

Sounds like a pretty ordinary 21st century woman’s empowerment plot, right?

Except that Carmen Maura is 80, and Ahmed Boulane is 69.

It’s a marvelous film. It captures so accurately and delicately, yet with humor and sadness, too, this journey of a woman in her third act pushing back against the forces (including her own daughter) that work to limit her and take her out of life’s mainstream into a “sensible” old age: giving up her beloved home, living in a nice-enough residencia, becoming sexless and easily managed.

I especially resonated with the love affair between Maria Ángeles and Abslam; it’s deeply physical, affectionate and sexy. I really enjoyed seeing them both portrayed as fully sexual beings. It was delicious.

I’m not sure this movie could have been made in the US; it seems to me that the American culture equates sexuality almost entirely with youth, slenderness and a certain kind of conventional beauty. And in fact, American companies make over $100 billion dollars a year selling beauty and personal care, and over $135 billion on weight loss. It makes sense, sadly: most people want to be and be seen as sexy, and US culture (and to a lesser extent, other western cultures) tell them that they can only achieve that if they can be - or at least look - young and slender.

Fortunately for those of us who will never again see the youthful side of 50, this is all complete and utter bullshit.

One of the joys of my second and forever marriage is that my husband believes, and has believed for 17 years, that I’m the sexiest woman he has ever seen, met or known.

This, as you might imagine, has supported me in having developed a much deeper sense of myself as a sexual being. It’s fair to say that I see myself now, at almost 75, as being sexier than at any previous point in my life.

(And don’t worry, I think he’s super-sexy, too - I’ve always called him my ‘demon lover.’)

…that sexuality has nothing to do with what our bodies look like, with the tautness of our skin, with our athleticism or our photogenic-ness.

The foundation of sexuality is openness, generosity, love, acceptance, humor, ability to give and receive pleasure. Trust. Care. Being able to be fully in the present moment with your partner. And the physical joys of sex - the delight of tactical sensations, the sweetness of warmth and closeness, the glorious orgasms - those are available to us without regard to age, gender, physical ability, shape, or size.

I’ve come to believe that the desexualization of older people is one of the most insidious and limiting aspects of ageism (which has been called “the last socially acceptable prejudice”).

Many recent studies have found that people young and old have a variety of misconceptions about older people’s sexuality: that it’s bad for our health (the opposite is true for most people); that we are uninterested in having sex; that older sex is “creepy” or “unnatural”; that older people only want to have sex with younger people; that it’s not normal for older people to have sexual desire.

And sadly, it’s not just young people who have these negative unfounded beliefs; studies also show that many older people internalize these ageist beliefs, which can lead to a lack of sexual engagement or pleasure, and feelings of shame associated with one’s own sexuality.

One caveat: I know that some people - of any age - are not very interested in sex, and I know that some older people don’t see sex and sexuality as having much of a role, or perhaps any role, in their lives. I’m not trying to make you change your mind about that if it’s true for you.

And for the rest of us, I encourage you (as I often do) to change your mindset. If you find yourself thinking limiting or negative things about your sexuality as an older person, or about the overall idea of elders being sexual, I encourage you to speak to yourself differently:

What could you say to yourself - about your own sexuality or about ‘older and sexy’ in general - that would be more realistic, more hopeful, more useful?

How can you ‘talk back’ to yourself when you find yourself thinking, “Oh, but I couldn’t…”, or “Well, I’m not…”. or “It’s too late/I’m too old to…”?

What do you think? I’d love to hear your experiences and point of view on this hot (in many ways) topic…

And you might want to watch Calle Malaga.