Rekindling the fire

Can you remember your (sex)life before menopause - that incessant desire and heat running through your veins.

No one ever warned me that one day my body would literally turn the tap off - a mere flicker of that desire left behind like a sad single cake crumb on a platter. If I'd known, I would have been on many a missed shagfest! I really really want to tell you that with love and good communication the flame can be reignited, but, if I'm honest, for me, that sadly was not the case.

Then along came breast cancer - a chaotic battle where I fought armed with chemotherapy, radiotherapy and my sense of humour. If menopause stripped me of my youthful desires, the effects of treatment threw me into a sexual desert where I not only felt robbed of my sexuality but of the very essence of my femininity. 

I dragged myself along to many a "sexual energy workshop" for post cancer treatment women - the best experience was when one of the nurses came out with a basket of vibrators and lined them up on a table. She was SO serious that I'm afraid I just lost my filtre and set the whole group off giggling. To make it worse, when she put up her female anatomy power point, a rebel vibrator started buzzing and bobbing about on the display table which set us all off giggling again.

If cancer wasn't enough, I then found myself thrust into the abyss of singledom. Everything else began to feel like the warm up act. There I was, a 50something Bridget Jones, immersed in a sea of self pity, chocolate mousse and Netflix marathons. And, as for desire, only dust left.

It was about this time that Spring started blooming and my friends were encouraging me to get out more, go to the hairdressers, join a gym, think about a club of some sort, etc, etc, etc. Then it came - Susie, you need to get on a dating site. You need to get out, meet some people. No, not for me, I said, besides, dating me would be like going on a night out with Mother Teresa (she'd probably be more fun!). I felt about as sexy/desirable as a bantam's toenail.

I remember walking home that evening, the cherry blossom was out, the sun was shining the birds were singing - and guess what popped into my head - that line up of vibrators in the sexual energy workshop a couple of years back.

There started my research - on line I went, in search of my lost desire, feverishly researching into the wee hours for the greatest inventions in vibrators on the market today. God knows I needed the sexual desert warrior's version of the atomic bomb!

I fell upon an article about Michael Lenke, a Bavarian inventor, who decided he wanted to bridge the "orgasm gap" between men and women - why this man has not yet received the Noble Peace Prize is beyond me. And, wait for this, his WIFE agreed to be the tester ( hands up who would have volunteered?!) of his prototype which I understand was made from an old bicycle dynamo and an aquarium pump. 

The end result was the "Womanizer" and, this was one chap's description of his wife's reaction,  

    "I had to pry it from her hands to get her to stop. I think if you put it on a stick and dangled it in front of her, she could win the Boston marathon."

This had me up the high street in Bordeaux the very next morning and walking into the first sex shop I fell upon. Without hesitation, I acquired my new best friend, the Womaniser, and honestly, this thing really works.

To cut a long story short, I emerged a few days later from my house, like Venus from her clam - rosy cheeked, desire bubbling from every pore. I was going back to the sex shop as my Womaniser wouldn't recharge. I shyly fronted up to the counter and asked if someone could help me to get it working.

I may have sounded lightly desperate.

I may have had tears in my eyes.

The thirty minute wait seemed interminable - I was gently informed that " Madame, le moteur est grillé " ( the motor has burnt out). I felt like someone had died until I was told that as it was only 10 days since purchasing, it was under guarantee - I left, with new toy in bag and warnings from the vendor to allow my toy to have some occasional time out.

I wasn't even embarrassed - my desire was rekindled and it felt like Christmas.

Happy International Women's Day -  let's normalise and celebrate post50 women's sexuality!!!!!

EDIT : have recently discovered that my Womanizer did not appreciate being used in the bath. 

Will now need toy number 3.