Not Looking For Love...
In All the Right Places

I knew I was promiscuous but it never occurred to me just how promiscuous until the day my doctor mistook me for a prostitute. I was at the St Mary's Clinic in West London, at the suggestion of a man I was dating. The night before, while I cuddled in his arms, he had asked how many men I'd been with in the past three months... not the usual bedtime chatter. It took me a few minutes to calculate. When I gave fifteen as my best estimate, he suggested that perhaps I should have a check up.

It didn't matter that I always practiced safe sex, including with him. He said he just thought it seemed sensible that a doctor give me a look over. His alarm at my tally was nothing compared to my fear that perhaps he had caught some disease and was too much of a coward to tell me. It didn't occur to me until later that I should have asked how many people he had been with in his equally exciting past life.

The next day it was the doctor's turn to drill me. "How many sexual partners do you have?" he asked.

I thought back on the fun week I'd just had. Besides Tim's sleepovers, there was the distinguished-looking film director I'd had martinis with in Soho on Friday after work; his replacement, the 38-year-old lawyer I met the next night for dinner; and that hot and muscled massage therapist who'd come back to my place after brunch on Sunday. "Four..." I said,"...this week."

"In a month, then?" pursued my inquisitor.

This time it took just a minute to do the math. I'd just had four guys in seven days, a typical week, so it seemed sensible to multiply by two – my kid free weeks. "Eight?"

"Are you working?" asked the doctor.

“I like men. Unlike prostitutes, however, I give it away for free. Men are my buddies, my friends, my handymen, my toys, depending on their various talents and whether I want them to stick around after the sex.”

I told him I was, and quite busy indeed. I work full-time as a marketing exec. I'm also a full-time mother of two teenagers, except for the two weekends a month when my ex has the kids. That's when I play... hard. I spend so much time dating (and often sleeping with) men, it might count as a second career. Except I'm no working girl.

I like men. Unlike prostitutes, however, I give it away for free. Men are my buddies, my friends, my handymen, my toys, depending on their various talents and whether I want them to stick around after the sex. That may sound unromantic, but after many years aiming for a monogamous relationship, at 45 I've learned that monogamy is just not for me, at least at this point in my life. But just as I'm not alone in bed, neither am I alone among women.

"I've definitely observed this sort of lifestyle choice becoming more common amongst middle-aged women," says London psychologist Dr Pam Spurr, author of Sensational Sex: The Revolutionary Guide to Sexual Pleasure and Fulfillment.

More and more women of a certain age are refusing to accept their fate as spinsters. Once considered over the hill by 40 and pathetic if not glued to a man's side, women are rejecting the standard option of a nighttime spent knitting in front of the television. They are going out on the prowl instead playing hostess to stray cats. Some may seek solace in the arms of a number of men, but I suspect most, like me, are finding there's just plain fun to be had.

Artwork by T.J. Kirsch.

"There's no doubt that modern women are more assertive and able to dictate what they want when it comes to relationships," says Dr Sarah Brewer, medical director of Amora, the Academy of Sex and Relationships, a sex theme park opening soon in the Trocadero. "Traditionally," she says, "women wanted monogamy and set their bulls-eye on a single Mr Right. Men, have always been comfortable having several relationships going at the same time. In these days of sexual equality, more and more women are going to follow their lead," she predicts.

Perhaps this is due to society becoming less judgmental about women's sexuality in recent years. "This new attitude," says Spurr, "is freeing increasing numbers of women to deliberately choose to negotiate a number of sexual-romantic relationships, rather than settle down with any one person."

Take me as a case in point. I'm currently seeing six guys. Roy is one. I wouldn't want to bring him home to meet my parents. His ferocious shaved head and the large diamond drilled into his tooth might spook them. A builder by trade, a massage therapist and a stripper on the side, at 48 he has the body of a man half his age. Better yet, when he's finished making love to me, he sorts out the small DIY jobs in my house too. Usually naked. The fact he has a string of other 'girlfriends' is immaterial. I'm not looking for lasting love. But when I want to go out dancing, he's the perfect partner and knows how to spin me around the dance floor. Later, it's the bed that moves.

Then there's Michael, the legal intern. He's great to look at. He makes me laugh in bed and out of it. We've been seeing each other for a couple of years on and off and have never argued, unlike most couples who have known each other a month. Perhaps he can't afford to take me to the Ivy, but when I need some free legal advice, I just have to pick up the phone.

“I've found the perfect man,
only he's six different people.”

Not all of my relationships are sexual. My experience taught me there's no point in trying to fit a man into a box that he doesn't belong in. Having popped out two lovely kids, I've fulfilled my biological destiny. I've got the house, the car, my own income. So I don't need a man to 'make me whole' or to serve as a sperm donor. I meet Larry for cocktails occasionally, and he's the one I ring when I want to go to a museum, the cinema. He has the rare ability to truly listen to a woman. I've spent more time sharing my thoughts with him than I did with my husband in the last years of our marriage.

I also see Paul, a 56 year old financial guru, Glyn a 38 year old theatre director, and Karume, a 27 year old African musician who hardly speaks English. I've found the perfect man, only he's six different people. So, when I read that being in a steady relationship is all about compromise, there's a strong part of me that thinks, 'Why should I have to?'

"This newfound rejection of monogamy is particularly appealing to women who've had an unhappy first marriage." says Spurr, "Their hopes of a lifelong union may be dashed, but they have gained confidence in successfully juggling single parenthood and careers. Now they want to have relationships on their terms."

I do have relationships on my own terms. My main criterion: Fun. I have never been happier, or busier. Yet people obsess over my lack of a steady relationship, including those who haven't had one of their own in years. "How long are you going to keep playing musical boyfriends?" asked my friend Jane recently. We were discussing her love life, or lack of it, and as usual the conversation turned toward my love life. It is, after all, more interesting because it's more active, even if it's not about love. "Wouldn't you like a boyfriend?"

I told her I have plenty. But of course she meant one man: Monogamy. I've found it easier to have (and keep) a stable of men rather than settle down with just one. My ten-year marriage ended when I realized my husband's heart belonged not to me or even to another woman, but to his career. As for Jane, she's an attractive, middle-aged woman, yet her last relationship ended more than a decade ago, when she was 30. Her lover, who was married, ultimately didn't want to leave his wife, despite confessions of misery and promises to break free.

Most people, particularly those who aren't in any relationships, don't want to hear the truth. The truth is: I have many dates. I have lots of sex. I don't want monogamy. My contentment puzzles and even threatens some people.This may be because women are socialized to crave monogamy. That is their life's bull's-eye. And then there are the walking wounded. Those people shattered after a failed relationship, the clingers. They're not good candidates for the men who come through the revolving door.

I got divorced five years ago at forty, and like so many middle-aged divorcees, I spent a lot of time trying to find a boyfriend, a replacement, instead of just having fun. Eventually, fun won out. But not at first. I tried internet dating, hanging out in singles bars and clubs, attending dinner parties, all with the aim of meeting someone special.

One shouldn't have to come out of the clouds in order to realize that finding 'the one' isn't easy... or necessarily worth it. Yet we persist in dreaming, despite the knowledge that with age comes baggage. So many middle-aged people are so weighed down by their baggage that just bringing two people together for a second date is often an accomplishment. Finding babysitters. Handling work pressures. Investing sufficient time to cultivate a relationship. Juggling your friends and dates and playing the diplomat when one doesn't like the other. And then there's the history of the ex, the details of which should rarely be shared.

"Having a set of aspirations and expectations frequently damages many potential relationships," Says Spurr, "when one person can't tick all the desired boxes."

"There are a number of positive benefits from this lifestyle choice for confident women," Spurr continues, "they feel in control of their lives, and know what they want - and more importantly what they don't want - from a relationship. Women who can relate to different men, for different reasons, and on different terms, no longer have to aspire to finding one man to provide every dimension to their need for intimacy."

I'm having so much fun that I wrote a book about my experiences in the hope that other women might take inspiration from my experience and perhaps find their own kind of happiness from doing the same. Not that I'm suggesting that juggling multiple partners is going to work for everyone but it certainly works for me, and I've received enough letters from other women leading a similar lifestyle to know that I'm not alone. And it's more than just fun. I've learned a lot, not just how to separate my sexual desire for my need for emotional fulfillment but about my own body and what I like and don't like. What's more, I've been told I've got a real grasp of the male psyche. Freed from the restraints of being in a monogamous relationship with me and knowing that they are not the only one, men find it easy to tell me what they really enjoy too. The most common phrase I hear is, 'Why aren't there more women like you around?' For many of my partners I'm their 'dream date' – the woman with whom they can share their fantasies without being judged and then go home knowing there's no responsibility to call me until the next time we both want to meet.

This option isn't for everyone, of course. There are drawbacks to rejecting monogamy in favor of variety, and Spurr warns they can serious. "Women with low self-esteem and poor relationship skills may find themselves getting used by unscrupulous men who see them as easy targets for sex." she says, "An already emotionally damaged woman seeking love may fall into a relationship with a men on easy terms that actually aren't what she wants, and many women don't have the confidence to stand up for what they really want"

The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker: An Erotic Memoir is the story of my sexual journey. My recent follow-up, The Not So Invisible Woman is the story of my current lifestyle as a non-monogomous woman. They are books I couldn't have written in my twenties. I wasn't emotionally mature enough. I had had more than my fair share of partners back then. I was dating lots of men because I had to. I longed for a regular, steady boyfriend but never found one. Instead I met lots of men that used to ring me up at 3 am, asking me to come round and party, usually after they'd had too many drinks and found too few women taking an interest. I was 28 pounds over my ideal weight and even by thirty still hadn't managed to get rid of my teenage acne. So instead of telling my late night caller, "I'm going back to sleep!" I typically used to ring up a cab. I didn't have a great deal of self-esteem back then. I didn't feel particularly attractive or confident.

Then, following my divorce I met a man who told me, "I don't know why you're with me. You could have anyone you wanted." And though it may sound like a cliché, I believed him. I lost weight, my spots disappeared and I became more aware of my sexiness when I saw men look at me in the streets. I threw out my flat shoes and bought high heels. Now I'm the one making the calls - and booking my partners well in advance.. My phone is turned off after 10 pm. I still get the late night booty calls, but don't answer them until the morning. I choose who I want to be with and who I don't. Until I find someone that makes me want to settle down, I'm enjoying the variety.

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