Welcome Back, Dear Readers, & Happy New Year!
The 1970s and 1980s –
In 1969 I left my small Pennsylvania hometown to attend an equally small, private, all-women college across the state and never looked back. It was a fabulous, liberating experience to be on my own, making my own decisions, with an opportunity to break out of my shell, to explore who I really was, and what I really thought and believed in.
My college years, the late 60’s and early 70’s were the years of “free love,” drugs, anti-war protests, and saw the emergence of an eclectic mix of music genres from The Beatles, to heavy metal to hard rock, to R&B, Soul and Jazz. The times were passionate, obsessive! It seemed everyone was having sex – freely and without inhibition. Not since the 1920’s had our world seen such a dramatic change in morals, social habits and values, and personal life styles.
My core values instilled by my parents remained true and steady, but those years in college were challenging, full of temptation and fueled by serious pressure from guys exploring their own newly found freedoms.
I fell hard in love for the first time during my sophomore year. He was gorgeous, he rode a motorcycle, he belonged to a fraternity, he was smart and well liked, and he totally respected me. It was the perfect first love – romantic, passionate, sensual and yes intimate. There were many – then unrealized- simple acts of intimacy in this romance of mine – a single rose, peeling an orange for me one Sunday morning, tucking an extremely tiny seashell into an envelope which I never found until many years later. Our romance ended with the school year, and I went off to London for a junior year abroad. There were other relationships after that throughout my college career, but the memory of those first time love intimacies live deep in my heart.
After college, I moved to NYC. Why? Absolutely no clue. Though I did know I wanted to continue my metamorphosis, and I knew I wanted to pursue a career related to writing or publishing. With the help of a college professor I did land a job in publishing that first summer, working for a crazy, overly dramatic editor of a small independent publishing company. Though short lived (ah, another story) that job literally was the beginning of my career that led me to the here and now! Also, I was still working on losing the image of a small-town girl, to transform who I was! I changed my hair from mousey brown to blonde. I had lost a ton of weight. I embraced NYC with a passion that was lost on my friends and family in Western PA.
I love this post on Facebook of the adorable, and very sexy young woman posing seductively beside her car in NYC. The caption says, “tell your kids that your grandma sported miniskirts, hot pants, and Gogo boots and never wore a bra!” THAT was the 70’s. And right along with thousands of other young women, that image was my role model.
I did what we all did in New York City (and maybe elsewhere) in the 70’s. Life itself – especially for young people in this time frame – was passionate. Work all day, meet friends and new people after work in local bars (no internet or social media remember?), stay for happy hour that served cocktails and snacks, party at night, stay out til 3 or 4 am, go home, get up and start all over again. So long as you stayed within your own comfort zone, the world was safer then. For me and others like me, there was a naivete that came from being in our mid 20’s, fearless, and believing anything was possible. Afterall, it was New York City!
That summer of 1975, I met my first long term love, the man who would steal my heart and ultimately break it. It was a whirlwind, very intense sexual relationship which escalated very quickly. He was handsome, extremely smart, socially connected via a rather wealthy influential family, and driven for success. He had lofty goals and global aspirations, was pragmatic and logical. A man who never let his soft side come through the armor, except occasionally with me. But his Achilles heel was parental issues — a domineering, controlling mother whose criticism and opinion clouded his own, and the ghost of his deceased father whose dying words haunted him. Extremely passionate – even Shakespearean — to say the least! For 3 years we were inseparable. I met his family, he met mine. We found an apartment and moved in together. In the beginning I thought I could soften him, bring out the traits I believed, infact I knew, were “in there”. But, even then I knew deep down inside, something was missing. Our entire relationship lacked intimacy. I truly can’t remember any special moments. No meaningful gifts. No simple gestures of affection. Every emotion, every move was calculated. Even then, and though I tried, I knew it would never be enough for me. I was after all, a 50’s child, the product of my parents’ kind of love. I wanted the same for myself. I wanted marriage and a family. I eventually realized his inability to commit, despite the intensity and drama of our love life, was a recipe for failure. Our passion alone could not sustain us, and so, heartbroken, I broke it off.
And here’s the sad but true reality. It was the late 70’s. No cell phones! No email! No Internet! No Facebook! No way to find someone you lost contact with even if you wanted to reunite. Did he move? Did he leave town? Did he change his name? Did he get married? Sometime later and few times over the years, when I thought about reconnecting, I was never able to find this man again. It was if he fell off the face of the earth. Not a romantic Hallmark ending, but definitely a passionate tale!
The 1980‘s- After the fallout from the Vietnam War, there was a real sense of optimism, fun and enthusiasm for the future. Madonna, Duran Duran, and MTV videos helped to define the culture. Romance and romantic movies which had probably not been as popular since the 1950’s made a comeback — Moonstruck, Princess Bride, Pretty In Pink, Harry & Sally…these and more took the screen and revitalized our belief in true romance! The idea of “family” was resurging, but there was a lot of emphasis on just having fun, enjoying laughter and embracing individuality. It was a time of dreaming big because anything was possible.
About 6 months after my previous relationship ended, I met my husband at a fancy house party on the upper East Side where I was someone else’s date! It didn’t take long for me to see in this adorable guy the traits that were missing in that former relationship. By then I knew what I wanted and needed in a relationship, and could recognize exactly the kind of man that could make me happy. He was funny, smart, unassuming, and we had the same family values. We embraced the same dreams and hopes for what our life together would look like. We married 6 months after we met, and our daughter was born 2 years after that in 1981.
My husband was a shipping executive – a career path and industry that took people like us on a roller-coaster ride! We embraced every minute of it, relishing a whirlwind of romantic escapades and travel to Europe, South America and Scandinavia. Fortunes were gained and lost on Wall Street, world travel was the way to do business, financial deals of all kinds made millionaires and lost as many! We lived the high life for quite a while, though things were shaking up repeatedly. LIFE ITSELF was Passionate! It all eventually crashed. Not just for us, but for many and in many industries. And yes, that’s another story!
1990’s and beyond – The irony is that the man I married was extremely generous and definitely a romantic – perhaps to a fault. There were hundreds of romantic gestures over the years of our 33 year marriage – some grand, some more understated. He never forgot a birthday, never forgot an anniversary. And there were acts of passion, great passion – privately and personal. But missing (especially as the years went by) were the small acts of intimacy that no one else but he and I would know about ….that no one else would notice. Those actions where you feel totally safe. That feeling you get from the comfort and unselfish sharing of your personal thoughts. From just holding hands, opening a door, holding a chair, taking out the garbage. They weren’t there, those personal acts of intimacy, because sadly he needed more public gratification. This is an important lesson, dear readers. 50’s, 60’s, 70’s 80’s to today – it doesn’t matter what year or decade, from now til forever – intimacy – true intimacy is key to a lasting relationship. Intimacy is between you and your love – no one else needs to share that moment.
To be continued — oh, yes..there’s more