Wanting to be Wanted

So … at my therapy session yesterday we talked about the years of being a woman in her prime that I gave up for my First Daughter and Son, that they might have as close to a "normal" childhood or, at least, a childhood that they didn't have to deal with their father the transsexual.

And what did I give up?

I was in better health in those days and it is reasonable to think that my transition would have been different. Perhaps I could have had hormone replacement therapy I wasn't diabetic then and wouldn't have had other health issues that would have held up my GCS.

I gave up a dynamic and powerful time in a woman's life; a time of being attractive, desirable and vibrant. I would not have been beautiful or glamorous, but much more attractive; someone who would have caught the eye of somebody who wanted to know me better.

I know I am a catch. I am not hard to look at for a woman of nearly 60. I am a sweet, sensitive, caring and kind person. I have a nurturing and empathetic spirit.

At 60, a woman with my qualities makes a great … Mom or Gramma.

I have a card on my door that asks, "How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?" My answer has been 36 and sometimes 43. And because I haven't been living my true self very long, the middle 30's isn't an unreasonable description of my spiritual and emotional age. The women I hang out with most of the time are in their 30's. Women in their 30's are who I am attracted to. But these wonderful people, that I love dearly, don't see me as a peer. They see me as a middle-aged Mom. A mom they love and cherish and respect, but a mom. Or an older sister-type of person.

The women, attracted to women, more my age see me as a woman and respect me as a friend, but when it comes to dating? They see me still as a man.

It would seem that the people I want to date either see me as a mom or as a man.

My dating pool resembles a mud puddle in the Arizona sun.