No, that’s not the new me. The new (just new, not improved) Rachel Dachel still looks and sounds the same as she always has. It’s funny; I still have the same laugh, the same walk, the same cadence to my speech. My clothes fit the same, my hair still loops, twirls and swirls in its same crazy curls. Every freckle on my face is exactly where I remember it being yesterday, last week, last month and for eternity.

I’m still left-handed. Well, yeah, I am pretty much ambidextrous, but just as I always have, I still favor my left hand and enjoy the struggle that is at times a manual can opener. I enjoy the same books, movies and music that I always have and I still drive the same car, go to the same office and have all of the same friends and family that I always have. So in essence, nothing has changed. But simultaneously, EVERYTHING has changed. I don’t know this new woman in my mirror.

While she may look, sound and behave exactly like me, she isn’t me. I know it doesn’t make sense to you because it makes absolutely no sense to me. I never in a million years would’ve thought that I’d wake up to find this stranger inhabiting my body and living my life right before my eyes. I never would’ve thought that it would be so foreign and traumatic. But it is.

You see, I got married at forty years old. I thought that marriage at forty meant that we were mature and more capable of making decisions from a logical and rational point of view. I thought it meant that we were blessed and fortunate to have found one another at a later point in life and that we would be more appreciative than our younger selves and counterparts of the joy and miracle of being in love and getting married.

I thought that after walking down the aisle and saying our vows I would breathe a sigh of relief and that the stress of caterers, florists, musicians and officiants would simply melt away and leave in their place those warm, glowing feelings of love and satisfaction. The knowledge that the government and the world now recognize us as a union, as a united front who will navigate and brave the world together hereafter was supposed to make me feel safe and more connected to my partner. And it does.

But nonetheless, I’m having an identity crisis. You see, before we got married, I agreed to take my husband’s last name. To some it may not seem like a big deal, but for me it was a major compromise; it was the entire reason that we didn’t get married sooner. It took me a long time to consent to take his last name. I attribute that in part to my independence, but largely to the fact that I, as the only female born in the family for three generations, had been quite celebrated when born into the name. And for forty years I have proudly, dutifully and lovingly carried the name that other women could only obtain through marriage. I was special; I was unique, an original.

In recent years, two little girls joined me in that exclusive club. My nieces and I bonded over the special sisterhood we shared that could be summed up in six simple letters. They delighted in the knowledge that I would one day pass down to them my monogrammed handkerchiefs and jewelry. They vowed that they would tell their daughters how I had climbed trees, jumped off of docks, bicycles and big wheels and even wrestled my brother and all of my cousins as the sole dash of sugar and spice in a sea of snakes, snails and puppy dog tails. I showed them every scar I EARNED in keeping up with the boys, and told the harrowing tales that accompanied each one. They laughed at my childhood photos that depicted me in ribbons and curls, soft satin sashes on flowing dresses—with Mercurochrome-soaked bandages on both knees. The perfect portraits of my struggle to fit in while being the only girl.

And somehow, I felt at peace with the fact that upon my death, they would take up the cause and carry on. But now, it feels as though that death is impending. I’ve checked for ravens and crows…thankfully none yet! But it still feels as though a part of me has died. Who knew? Who knew it would have this sort of effect on me? Perhaps if I were a giddy girl in her 20s it would be different? Maybe I’d be excitedly scribbling “Mrs.” followed by my first name and his last name—oh wait, that’s my last name now, huh?

Well there is no time for maybes and what ifs. I knew the job was dangerous when I took it so there is no point in being squeamish now. I’m saying goodbye to the old me and making my best effort to embrace the new me in her stead. It isn’t easy, but I know it is worth it. I’ll wish her well as I send her on her way, in what has turned out to be the bittersweet consequence of being married at forty.

Christine Eclavea Mercer

In 2010, I will turn 40. I spent my twenties educating myself, growing up, working, and traveling. I did much of it badly. At 27, it finally occurred to me that if I ever wished to procreate I should find myself attracted to nice men, instead of the bad boys of my youth.  Else I would be childless forever, or a single parent.  I did not find either of those options agreeable.

My standards certainly changed in my thirties.  Before that I imagined success the way children do, that one must be the CEO, the President, the Astronaut, the Prima Ballerina. I was taught to aim high like the Air Force.

Children and family were an idea in my twenties, the thing that kept me from getting to work on time because I was stuck behind the school bus, or giving me a headache on the screaming baby flight.  They were the thing my mother nagged about at every phone conversation – the reason I stopped calling.

In 1998 the most backward wonderful thing happened:  I lost my job.  It was a window opening for me.  I left my jackass (now ex) husband.  And moved to Atlanta to be with my grandmother, who had recently been diagnosed with cancer.  By the time I arrived for good it was 1999.

I won’t bore you with the whole of it.  That’s the meat.  That, and the fact that I declared myself a person who liked men who are nice, and have the ability to stay in one location for more than the number of months between deployments by the military, transfers by the FBI, or sudden relocation by more sinister organizations that shall not be named.

Voila, new town, new decade, new me.  Mostly.  My damn driving record and total inability to drive 55 followed me.

My grandmother welcomed me with kisses on both cheeks, a lunch of grapes, cheese and baguette, and a jar of Nivea Daily Nourishing Cream.  She swore by the stuff and had been tucking it into my suitcase for about five years by then.  It was her secret skin recipe that was not at all secret.  My mother had rejected it.  And she was determined to pass it on.

I found it a bit heavy, except in January when the central heat sucks every last drop of moisture from the air.  But I kept it.  I gave away the extra jars to friends when they commented on her fabulous skin.  I always had four or five laying around.  I couldn’t refuse them.  She wouldn’t allow me to.  And anyway, I am not my mother.

Due to her insistence that I take the Nivea, and my very slow progress in using it up, I have donated countless jars of it to battered women’s shelters over the years.  All because I could not say no to my grandmother.  And she insisted that her skin was fabulous because of the Nivea and the good genes.

Around the time I turned 35, which is when my body went crazy in general, I started to use the Nivea for more months out of the year, all winter long instead of only January.  And now, at 39, I start using it when the temperature drops below 70 degrees and continue until April or May.  I suppose that when I’m 85, if I live that long and the Nivea is still being made I’ll be using it all year long.

I’ve replaced most commercial beauty products with preservative-free handmade goods.  Even things I thought would be too weirdly hippie smelling and creepy to use in their more natural forms, like shampoo bars and deodorant sans aluminum have appeared among my toiletries.  The Nivea lingers.

I’m not usually sentimental.  But I’m almost 40.  So I allow myself some sentimentality now.  I never imagined living this long.  And it’s these sentimental ideas that bind families together.  I never appreciated them before.

Both of my parents are long since passed.  And my grandmother died this year.  She spent years telling me things followed by the words, because eventually I die.

I’ve started telling DD to pay attention to things about family history, because eventually I die.  I’ve been told this is premature.  But on my mothers timeline I’ve got less than a decade left. (A fluke probably, but still.)

So I’m declaring these things for the record, the Nivea, my stupid ass mistakes, the fact that I no longer give a a shit if I’m ever the CEO or married to one, that being successfully married means being still married, and successful career means employed with a roof over your head.  Because eventually I die.

It isn’t so macabre, just practical.  DD is not even creeped out by it.  I’m passing on the crazy Frog sensibility.  And the Nivea.

Thanks to Christine for sharing her blog post with Women at Forty. You can read her original post on her blog, Frog in North Georgia.

Photo: Christine Eclavea Mercer

Editor’s note: Tricia’s approaching 40 and she’s on a roll. Literally. No really, literally. She’s recently decided to follow her life long passion for writing and literature wherever it leads her. This week it’s taking her to a place of letting go of anger and a failed marriage and replacing it with forgiveness and love. All this as she approaches the age of reason…

As I count down the six weeks to my fortieth birthday, it occurs to me how my thinking has changed this year. I’ve let go of many ideas that were holding me back, keeping me cocooned in immaturity, and am approaching the rise to many others.

I’ve let go of anger toward my parents for not protecting me enough, for not being there for me when I needed guidance; instead, I now see those days when I battled it out on the streets, in the schools, and in my relationships in the Bronx as fertile ground for the strength I needed to overcome emotional, mental, and physical difficulties. I appreciate now the tools my mother gave me to survive when she was unable to teach me herself: books, and my love of the written word.

I am finally coming to that long dreamed of place in my life in which my passion for literature and writing are coming to the fore of my existence, earning me peace and contentment. To my father, I am grateful for the lesson that men are, as my mother has said, “a luxury, not a necessity,” and that I’d always had enough love. Early and consistent abuse from a relative taught me that I now have the ability to protect myself and others. It taught me, too, to look closely at my family’s dynamics, wherein I have gained revelations that feed my being.

In the past month of my journey to forty, I have let go, finally, of my failed marriage. I no longer lay blame at my ex-husband and his wife’s feet. Like so many other women in that realm, I have, over the years, gone through every phase of the healing process, only to find myself angry and bitter, tearing my soul out of its skin in the end. Now I know that really, there is nothing left to be angry about; I needed a life without that man in it, but the years I spent with him taught me some very valuable lessons about what is important to me in this life. It’s been so hard to get there, but I learned that I am an entity of and unto myself, that autonomy is the best of all worlds for me, and the freedom to be who I am is worth its weight in what I didn’t or couldn’t earn inside that marriage. I am grateful that his wife took him out of my way, lightening my emotional space so that I could exist there as I am—good AND bad.

Perhaps because I’d always idealized the age of forty, I am discovering what it truly means to grow into my elder consciousness as well as my aging spirit. No, I don’t look like I did twenty years ago, but that’s cool—beauty is different at this age. Beauty is how I feel, what I think, and how I put my thoughts into words that sustain me. My laughter is a song to me now, rather than a long, loud façade over my pain.

Forty is everything I imagined it to be, and many things I did not. Most of all, forty is the me I always wanted to be, with room to grow. Hello, forty. I’ve been waiting for you like a long lost love. We are me, and I am almost exactly who I want to be.

Is/was 40 your age of reason? Share your reflections on 40 in the comment section or on our Facebook Fan Page.

Tricia Amiel on Tricia: After ten years of teaching English, I’ve finally begun to live my dream of being a working writer.  Lucky me.  I have three children 19, 19, and 9…a little poetic.  Life is good. I’m also a freelance writer, editor, and proofreader available for work.  For additional information or to contact Tricia, email us at info@womenatforty.com.

A couple of weeks ago I had the pleasure of interviewing Jo. Jo lives in England and is a woman in her late 30’s married to a younger man, and she does NOT want to be labeled a cougar. Throughout her life Jo had always been drawn to younger men, and in 2005 she met a man – 10 years her junior – and within a year, they were married.  Here’s what she has to say about marriage, marriage to a younger man, and why she hates the term ‘Cougar’.

On why she decided to marry, and why this man:

“I met him in my mid thirties, long after the majority of my friends had settled down with their same-age partners. Before that, I hadn’t been prepared to settle down. In some ways, I felt that doing so would compromise my own identity. When I met my husband-to-be, he was a breath of fresh air. There were no expectations on me to behave and act a particular way, and no notions of what a ‘wife’ should be, which I suspect an older man may have had. We both wanted a committed relationship, but we both also wanted fun in our life together, and our life has been just that.”

On finding compatibility in marriage:

“Finding the right man to spend your life with is a matter of compatibility. Some women are going to be more compatible with guys their own age or older, while others are going to have a lifestyle and outlook that is more compatible with a younger guy. At this age, we surely know ourselves well enough to make that decision and go find the right guy based on that self-knowledge.”

The ups and downs of being with a younger man:

“Well, he looks fantastic, and his energy and enthusiasm are contagious. But of course, dating a younger guy isn’t always easy. Sometimes it’s very difficult not to step in when we see them making a mistake we made ourselves when we were their age. But just because they are younger doesn’t mean they are not an equal partner in the relationship – and as such, they need to grow and learn for themselves, and sometimes that means making their own mistakes. It’s important to not lose sight of that. They chose us as a partner, not as a mother – and it’s important for any relationship to respect our partner on equal terms. Also, younger men tend not to be as further along in their careers. That can result in a financial inequity that, as it would in other marriages, cause a certain degree of conflict.”

On the term ‘Cougar’:

“Regarding the ‘cougar’ term, I really dislike it. Who wants to be defined by the age of the man she dates? Aren’t we all grown up enough to be beyond that? It’s predatory and insinuates that women are out to merely play around with these guys, when the reality is that more and more of us are actually choosing a younger guy as a life partner. I hate the assumption that just because my husband is younger than I am that I somehow coerced him into being with me, or that I finance his lifestyle, when the reality couldn’t be further from the truth.”

On why she launched her website, Beyond Cougar:

In 2010, seeing the media hype surrounding older women with younger men, Jo decided it was time to put fingers to keyboard, and get writing! There was plenty of ‘cougar-esque’ material out there, aimed at women who were looking to empower themselves and their lives. However, very few women who were actually with younger men were joining in the conversation. So, in January 2010, Jo founded Beyond Cougar, where she shares her thoughts on the realities of relationships with younger men. Beyond Cougar is also focused on breaking down the existing cougar stereotype – after all, what modern woman wishes to be defined, purely on the age of the man they choose to date?

Jo is a marketing professional who also holds an MA in Creative Writing from Kingston University, London. You can read her thoughts on all things “Beyond Cougar” on her website, http://beyondcougar.wordpress.com.

Share your thoughts on the whole Cougar craze, Jo’s interview and whether you find the term Cougar derogatory or not, in the comment section or on our Facebook fan page.

On dating:

OK, so is there a thin line between just friends and dating line at 40? Did it move from when we were in our 20s or 30s? There is this older guy who I enjoy spending time with – dinner, movies, chatting on the phone, etc. He insists that we’re not dating, but he won’t let 24 hours go by without “checking” in. Before you even ask, yes he’s the only guy that I’m spending time with (other guy friends don’t get 10% face time – mostly chat/email or cell buddies) and he says that he could never handle more than one female friend at a time. So back to what started this – just what crosses the line between just friends and dating?

On what’s sexy:

Sexy is knowing what to wear that compliments your best features – the tailoring of the suit/swagger of the sport attire, the style of the shoe, the line of the haircut, the moisturizer to use on the skin and the scent to top it off. All this speaks to knowing yourself and what you have to offer…. without spending more time in the mirror than me!

On motherhood – Does the bell toll for me:

I am nearing forty..within a few years. I’m one week away from divorcing my husband.. and we never had kids. For the 8 years we were married I wanted kids only about 10% of the time. I think it was the person I was married to. Something was just not right. After I separated from my husband I met a wonderful older man who was already a father to two grown boys and wow, he not only set off my biological clock, it went off like a TIME BOMB. Unfortunately that relationship didn’t last and I am alone again. The decision to have children or not has not been an easy one for me. In my very early twenties before I was married I became pregnant out of wedlock and had an abortion. I think about that a lot now, to be truthful. There is a lot of sadness that comes to me at times when I see a pregnant woman – I often wonder what it is like. Then I hear the stories of the midnight feedings, diaper changes gone wrong, exploding poo, and spitup and I think, hmm. I am not sure I can do that. I believe that the path of my life is slowly being revealed to me page by page. Hopefully one day I will be able to face the uncertainty and make a decision. Until then I am enjoying being able to do what I want, when I want. My hope is that a wonderful man will enter my life, we will fall in love, and perhaps, have a family.

Share your thoughts on motherhood, what is and isn’t sexy, and dating in the comment section or on our Facebook fan page.

We asked about passion, and you said -  Passion is still alive…even if it doesn’t pop up every day. And you haven’t given up on finding and keeping passion alive in your relationships, it just takes a little more work at 40. There are careers, kids and bills to think about, and sometimes passion takes a back seat. Single women at 40 said chemistry and passion are still really important when dating and starting relationships, but unlike in our 20’s, it’s not the only important factor.

We asked about back-up plans, and you said – Whether it comes to having kids or your marriage, there is no back-up plan. Unlike Jennifer Lopez’ upcoming movie, those of you who are 40 and don’t have kids, seem to be ok with it. When it comes to your marriages and relationships, the master plan seems to be to make it work, i.e., there is no contingency plan for failure. We’ll see how/if that changes as we receive more responses.

We asked about women asking men out, dating in the age of social media and how you felt about the term “cougar” and you said – You’ve tried eharmony, match.com and reconnected with past flames through Facebook. Many of you have had limited success going those routes. What still works? Good old fashion friends hooking friends up. Several of our readers commented that they met their husbands/significant others after asking them out. A lot of us are still working up the nerve to ask men out, so maybe we’ll make that a challenge the next time we talk about tackling our fears. As for “cougar” talk – some of you could take it or leave it, others embraced it, but most women who responded don’t like the term one bit. Next week we’ll be featuring an interview with a woman who’s got a few things to say about being identified solely by the age of the man in her life.

Who said anything about a wedding? – So what happens when you meet Mr. Right and find yourself getting married –again- at 40? Rachel, a guest blogger and frequent contributor, wrote honestly and humorously about the topic last week, and her post resounded with many of you. In keeping with this week’s relationship theme, we thought we’d share it again.

Next week our Relationship 2.0 series continues with more of your thoughts about dating, men and managing relationship minefields at 40. We’d love to hear your thoughts – share them in the comment section, on our Facebook fan page or on Twitter @womenatforty.

Dictionary.com has several definitions for the word passion including:

• any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate.
• strong amorous feeling or desire; love; ardor.
• strong sexual desire; lust.
• an instance or experience of strong love or sexual desire.

So today’s question – well one of them anyway – is, as we get older, do we trade the kind of passion defined above for something else, and if so, what’s the trade-off?

In our 20’s and even 30’s, relationships can be especially emotionally charged with lots of drama and passion. There’s fighting, making up, the sense of needing or wanting to be with someone so strongly that being apart from that person can at times seem physically painful. But as we get older, do we still allow ourselves to feel that intensely about another person or relationship? As we become more mature, more practical, more grounded, do we throw passion out the window for something else?

Is there a way to keep passion as strong as the day you first met your partner and would more relationships stand the test of time if there was? Simply put, in our 40s, whether we’re meeting someone for the first time or we’re in a long term relationship, is passion as important as it used to be?

Share your thoughts on passion in relationships in our comment section, on our Facebook fan page, or email us at contribute@womenatforty.com.

Editor’s Note:

I knew I was truly fortunate when I found love again at 38 years old. After kissing more than my fair share of frogs and marrying a toad, I had resigned myself to the fact that there was no prince for me and that my happily ever after would not include a husband, 2.6 children who were conceived “old school style” and a white picket fence. I was perfectly alright with adoption and a condo, but I still really hoped to find a suitable mate who would one day become my husband.

Be careful what you wish for. I met a wonderful man in September 2008 and as unlikely as it sounds, just knew that we would one day be married from the very moment I met him. On our first date we took a photo together as a keepsake to show our future grandchildren. Sure, it sounds pretty corny and a bit absurd, but there was just something between us that we both felt but could not explain. Almost immediately friends and relatives began to inquire about our plans for the future and when we would marry, and we just smiled, chuckled and replied “we’re talking about it.”

Talking about it was working out just fine for me. It gave me the security of knowing I had a committed relationship with a loving man who wanted to build a life with me, without the anxiety of planning a glorified party where everyone would gawk at me as I stumbled down an aisle and hurled myself toward the object of my affection and obscenities would fly from my mouth as the church crumbled around me. We dated, exchanged keys, met one another’s families and began to build that life as a couple. Relatives would say “Where’s Corey?” before even greeting me if I dared to enter a family function without him. My favorite niece greeted him as “Uncle Corey” the first time she met him and asked if she could be in our wedding the second time.

Wedding? WEDDING?!?!Who said anything about a wedding? Sure, I had pictured myself marrying this wonderful man, but my visions were more along the lines of a date at city hall, a weekend in Vegas with a drive-thru ceremony or perhaps an isolated Caribbean beach at sunset. He knew that I was a bit gun-shy after the spectacular disaster that was my first marriage and still traumatized from the divorce. He also knew that I greatly dislike being the center of attention, so he never pressed the issue of marriage or a wedding. We just accepted that marriage was something on the horizon for us and I took it for granted that he wanted the same no fuss-no muss, low-key nuptials that I did.

I’m glad that I didn’t bet on that as a test of our compatibility. As it turns out, Corey wants a church wedding with flowers and attendants and a reception to follow. Who knew? After months of attempting to camouflage my wedding-related anxiety by simply not discussing it, we finally decided to sit down and make some decisions and move forward in our relationship. It was then that I had the revelation that as a never-before-married only child, Corey wanted to have a traditional wedding filled with family and close friends, complete with dark suit, wedding dress, bouquet and tiered cake. Really…Who knew??

Did he forget that I eloped the first time I got married? Had the terror I described of having to plan a wedding conveniently slipped his mind? Had he gone mad? No—none of the above. He simply loved and trusted me enough to be honest with me about what he truly wanted for himself, for our families and for me. I cannot fault him for that, not in a million years.

While I am definitely more interested in a marriage than a wedding, I am happy to agree to the latter in an effort to begin the former on the right foot. After all, isn’t marriage ultimately about compromise and partnership? Are my anxieties and neuroses more important than his hopes and desires? Definitely not. So, we’ve set a date and chosen a location; I’ll be 40 years old when we take our vows—two milestones in the same year. Now we have to choose colors and menus, flowers, attendants, etc. There’s also the matter of the dark suit and the wedding dress…I hope he shaves his legs.

Oscar winner Sandra Bullock, who married for the first time at 40, told Barbara Walters she waited because, she “just never met anyone that was bigger than me.”  Even Gloria Steinem, who once declared marriage demeaning, got married for the first time at 66.  So what are some of the ups and downs of marrying at 40 and beyond?

• You are who you’re going to be – While you’re never too old, or young, to learn new tricks, at 40 you’re pretty much the person you’re going to be.  You’re really clear on your likes and dislikes, and you definitely know a deal breaker when you see one. That’s both a pro and a con. Being clear about what you like, can make for for less unwanted surprises down the road. That same trait though, can make you inflexible and unwilling to change for the sake of a partner.

• Elle magazine Canada said it best – you’re secure with your insecurities. Gone are the days of pretending to be someone you’re not. At 40, you’re too busy being you to pretend to be anyone else.

• You might be particular about your stuff – too particular. If you’re fussy about your linen closet and your immaculately alphabetized book collection, you might find it difficult to share your space with someone new.

• You’ve already established your career and completed your education – Married couples cite moving up the corporate ladder and attending school as time eaters that keep them apart. But if you’ve already wrapped those thing up, you’ve got more time to spend with your partner.

• Kids. If you’ve both already had them – instant Brady Bunch…or not. Brady Bunch aside, blending families can be tough. And if you both still want children, having them at 40 is definitely doable.  But for some, just the thought of running around chasing toddlers in our 40′s is exhausting.

• If you marry much later in life, you might not get to be one of those couples who celebrate their 40th or 50th anniversary together – sadly, Gloria Steinem’s husband died only two years after they were married. But, with advances in medicine and with people now living longer and healthier than ever, you just might get to celebrate that golden anniversary after all.

Did you get married, or are you getting married at 40 or later?  Why did you wait, and is it what you expected? Share your thoughts in the comment section or on our Facebook fan page.

In a 1967 poll, two-thirds of women said that they’d consider marrying a man they didn’t love if the men had good earnings potential. Today, 87% of women say that it’s more important to have a man who communicates well, can be intimate and will share the housework.

And maybe there’s something to that – the notion that communication and partnership are greater determinants of the success and happiness in a marriage than earnings potential. Contrary to the popular notion that half of all marriages end in divorce and that divorce is on the rise, the divorce rate has actually been declining for the last 30 years, and is at its lowest level since 1970. The rate of divorce among Baby Boomers is lower than that of their parents and their children’s divorce rate is even lower.

Despite the growing numbers of marriages in which women earn more than men, the issue can still cause significant strain in a marriage. Some men still report feeling “guilty” and less like equal partners when they are not the breadwinners. While others say they feel as though they have less rights in the relationship than their wives do.

Experts caution against getting too excited about women’s greater economic power in marriage though, citing the fact that women still make 77 cents to a man’s dollar, and that cutting back during periods of pregnancy and childcare cause a lag in women’s pay over time.

Critics have long argued that the shift away from traditional marriage has been largely responsible for the rise in divorce rates. What’s your take on traditional marriage vs. the “new” marriage 2010 style? Share your thoughts in the comment section, or on our Facebook fan page.

Source: NPR