Intimate life of a woman at 20, 30, and 40+ years old. Another great article from Elena Shpundra! The life of an entire generation in one article… Since I was already 20, 30, and even 40 years old, who, if not me, should try to reveal this burning topic? After all, sex is one of the most paradoxical areas of our lives. On the one hand, we all do it; we all want it, but on the other hand, in this area, there are still a lot of fantasies, shame, and taboos.
Intimate life of a woman: So, 20 years is the age when fantasies, shame, and taboos are in full bloom. They are superimposed on physical maturation, irrepressible youthful curiosity, poor knowledge of oneself, life, and people, and, accordingly, the inability to cope with different situations. A cool cocktail that can be described by the metaphor of a beautiful, new car rushing at full speed with a driving school student behind the wheel. Only this car is not equipped with a spare set of pedals, and there is no instructor nearby to insure you. So yes, at 20, sexual life is full of accidents and even catastrophes. Sometimes with a fatal outcome.
Girls are torn and thrown from one extreme to another—either promiscuous sex, sex with unsuitable partners, or elevating virginity to the rank of a cult and worshiping it like a sacred cow. These are all extremes. Is it possible to do without them? I don’t know, maybe in a couple of generations. When we learn to love ourselves, teach our children this, and expand the boundaries of our ideas about the world. I am from the generation of underloved girls. At 20, in sex we were looking not so much for sex, satisfying curiosity, or taming hormones. No. In sex, we were looking for love.
She wasn’t at home, and we often didn’t have fathers either, but it is in the relationship with him that a girl forms her first experience of a relationship with a man.
But there were infantile, critical, or simply unnoticing mothers. Unnoticing because they were tired of struggling with life alone, of dragging themselves along, and also of the child. Here they had to manage to run from one job to another and also clean the house, cook, and get themselves in order so that the child would be shod and dressed—no time for spiritual life. So we looked for love in other people’s beds. And also for some confirmation of our attractiveness and feminine value.
When a girl is criticized or ignored, how can she understand what she is like—whether she is beautiful, whether she is slim, what kind of woman she is?
Sex gave a kind of confirmation of attractiveness—if a man wants and sleeps with me, then I definitely look good. And I also need to get married. Firstly, society dictates, and secondly, it is a great way to escape from the “cold” parental home and create, as I dreamed, a “warm” one of my own.
But where would a warm home come from? We had nothing to give except our bodies. And we met the same unloved boys, who also had a cold emptiness of unlovedness inside and a thirst to fill it with something or someone. Other bodies? Yes, why not? Changing girls like gloves, the guys also received, as it seemed to them, confirmation of love.
Some of these couples were lucky—having met as two insecure ice cubes, they were able to establish normal heat exchange with each other. Some were not. With a cold heart, broken dreams, and withered bodies, they moved on to the next age.
Intimate life of a woman: 30 years old. The same shame, but less fantasies and some life experience.
And even if you are not driving a new and beautiful car but some economy-class car, you can already drive it. At least you know exactly what speed you should not accelerate to. We are becoming more selective in choosing partners. We definitely know how or are already learning to say “no” to men and situations that we do not like.
We begin to understand that s+x is not a way to get love or anything at all, and most importantly, we begin to take responsibility for our orgasms. We do not wait for a man to guess and do something himself. We learn to say or show what we want and what needs to be done.
Those who didn’t manage to do so at age 20 still have to get married.
And society still puts pressure on us, and our relatives ask questions. But we are no longer ready “at any cost.”. We can still try with the inertia of twenty-year-old speed. But we stop. Because we understand that we do not want to lose ourselves, we have already lost enough at 20. Those who managed to get married at 18-20 and are already divorced at 30, are just starting to have fun to make up for their unlived youth. They became serious women too early, with a household, a husband, and a child.
For them, by the age of 30, their duty to society has been fulfilled, and they themselves are both young enough to commit madness and at the same time mature enough to stop in time.
There can be both random sex and messy sex, but unlike 20-year-olds, a woman at 30 already clearly understands that she wants adventures; she begins to appropriate the right to get these adventures and, most importantly, she does not allow these adventures to destroy herself and her life. For me, 30 is the age of the first realizations and understandings, the feeling of self-worth not in relation to a man or the amount of sex, but as an individual who can learn everything she wants, including love.
And this is also the age of final separation from parents . Not physical; that happens much earlier. But emotional and psychological, when you separate your life from parental expectations, take away their remote control, which most often has two buttons, “guilt” and “resentment,” and say, “Mom, I have the right to my life and my mistakes.”
Intimate life of a woman: 40 years old. Shame and fantasies are left far behind.
They simply cannot keep up with the speed of my beautiful and stylish retro car. If we continue the analogy with cars and driving. And let stronger and more powerful sports cars rush past. I confidently drive my retro car, enjoying it, the speed, and the landscapes outside the window.
Yes, 40 is the age of enjoying life. Sex. Communication. The world. I know what good sex is for me, how to get it, and I don’t feel any shame or remorse for enjoying it. You don’t substitute concepts, you don’t play games, you’ve not only learned to love yourself, but you also understand that “healthy” love is in exchange. You love and you are loved.
You will not suffer or be tormented by unrequited love; you will not love a scumbag, an alcoholic or some other destructive type whom you could have loved at 20 or even at 30. Because you understand that feelings are valuable, a person is valuable, and time is valuable.
If someone at 20 achieved what I achieved at 40, I’m happy.
I will honk my horn in greeting and let your sports car go ahead. If someone has not yet reached the magical point of enlightenment even at 40, do not despair—everyone has their own speed, their own route, and their own means of transportation. Who said that riding a bicycle is worse and longer than riding a sports car or a retro car? Live, and love, and ride with pleasure!
