‘Overlap’. It’s not an attractive word, with intimations of too many teeth spoiling a smile or shoddily-lain linoleum. It’s certainly not a word that one would associate with such a fragrant presence as that of Felicity Kendal, the nation’s superannuated sweetheart.

Yet in an interview with the Sunday Times earlier this year, the demure thespian – 72 and still sexy – spoke thus of her long and interesting romantic record: ‘I didn’t have affairs – I just went from one to the next, with a bit of overlapping.’

Maybe I’m a touch touchy about this because my laughably-named ‘private life’ has been one long Overlap. I’ve probably slept with far fewer people than most women of 60 (especially considering I’ve spent forty-three years in the world of journalism, a milieu so sexually generous before the daytime drinking ban that we made your average Aerosmith tour look like a Women’s Institute AGM), but that’s because I got married as a teenager to the first man I had sex with.

I’ve hardly been some sort of bed-hopping fly-by-night. But nevertheless I have persistently Overlapped

My first marriage lasted five years, my second ten and I’ve been with my third husband for almost a quarter of a century so I’ve hardly been some sort of bed-hopping fly-by-night. But nevertheless I have persistently Overlapped my suitors, at one point uttering the unspeakably vulgar line ‘Why would anyone get out of the bath until they’ve turned the heating on?’

Having left my first husband for my second when I was 24, then my second husband for a girl when I was 35, then that girl for her own younger brother six months later – Overlapping all the way – I feel I’ve certainly packed in enough romantic permutations to last me a lifetime.

The first Overlap was a cloak-and-dagger affair during which I took the train to London from my suburban bungalow once a week to my lover’s flat in Chelsea. My husband, a traditional man, would not have appreciated this one bit and so I fled before we were detected.

My second husband was worldly enough to *allow* me to have a love affair with a girl but not worldly enough to understand that love laughs at allowances

My second husband was worldly enough to *allow* me to have a love affair with a girl but not worldly enough to understand that love laughs at allowances. My love affair with a girl imploded under the pressure of too much oestrogen and the unsettling presence of her younger brother – now my third husband – who made me realise quite quickly that just because one enjoys a holiday on Lesbos, one doesn’t necessarily want to move there for life.

It’s a widespread phenomenon; at the other end of the celebrity spectrum from the semi-sainted Kendall we have Katie Price, who has stated that when she feels a relationship is coming to an end she ‘always has a new man on the back burner’. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve read unsolicited advice from insolent agony aunts advising her to ‘take time for yourself’ because ‘jumping straight into a new relationship is never the answer.’

But you just can’t win with these professional sticky-beaks; should a famous female go for ‘too long’ without male companionship and she’ll find herself splashed over the celebrity magazines as ‘a recluse’ who has ‘given up on men’. Personally, I believe that those who advise us to leave a gap between courses are probably just *hangry*, and want us all to suffer with them. Like those friends who declare they aren’t eating carbs and then stare resentfully at your cheesy chips till they’re gone.

Overlapping has always been common among women with the wherewithal not to need society’s approval; look at Liz Taylor, who Overlapped so much she ended up lapping herself and reuniting with Richard Burton, or indeed Kendal herself, whose current ‘boyfriend’ is the husband she left for Tom Stoppard more than two decades ago.

I asked around amongst my friends for examples of Overlapping. L remembers: ‘When I was young, I Overlapped with three brothers – one of them knew about all of them, another knew about one, the other knew about nothing. In fact, I Overlapped to the extent that I recall one going out of the basement flat door while another was walking up the stoop to the main front door.’

Why do Overlappers irk people? It can’t be sexual morality, as we often have less sex partners than other types, who may well fit in interludes of frantic promiscuity between real relationships. There may be a sort of overly-fastidious morality at play which sees Overlapping as a prolonged version of ‘double-parking’ – having sex with two people in the same day – which shamelessly contradicts the idea of woman as some sort of chaste vessel with only one careful owner.

It indicates that a woman can have her cake, eat it and then order a muffin too, which contradicts the boring old lie about men being polygamous and women monogamous – which only ever existed because for most of history women haven’t been able to pay their own way in life and depended upon the *protection* (a nice way of saying the ownership) of men.

But of course it’s not just women who Overlap. D says ‘I left my wife for another woman, had a change of heart and went back with her for one Overlapping night before deciding the initial decision was the right one and resuming the other Overlap – only to discover six weeks later that my by then ex-wife was pregnant with my eldest son.’

P confesses ‘I dated three Sarahs at once – mayhem! I’d come back from lunch and there would be a note on my desk – ‘Sarah phoned – please call her back.’’ J can literally go one better: ‘When I was at university four different girls I was Overlapping with asked me which train I was getting back from my hometown after Christmas. Only after telling the fourth did I realise it might be embarrassing – so I bravely caught an earlier one.’

Though I am endlessly delighted by my own company, I don’t care to have it imposed upon me, but rather to choose it when I please.

I don’t feel in the least regretful about my serial Overlapping, and I’m not sorry that I failed to do the agony-aunt-approved penance in the slough of solitude. Though I am endlessly delighted by my own company, I don’t care to have it imposed upon me, but rather to choose it when I please.

I love being in relationships and I’m good at it, being both amusing and affectionate. I love having a partner-in-crime and a not-quite-captive audience. I like having sex on tap; I’ve never been to a singles bar, not even when I was a hot young thing, and the idea of resorting to such a random raffle so late in life and being a swinging sexagenarian feels me with equal parts amusement and amazement.

Though seeming to be a particularly duplicitous brand of promiscuity, I believe that Overlapping can actually stem from an over-romantic desire to find the mythical One – what the Cathy & Claire problem pages of my girlhood used to call ‘frantically seeking happiness from bed to bed’. And if there is any reason to condemn it, this is the one I’d choose. Because one thing it’s never too soon to learn about relationships is that no matter how often you bolt or how far you run, you inevitably take yourself with you.

Forget finding The One who’s going to make everything perfect; as long as you’re dissatisfied with The One in the mirror, you’ll be dissatisfied with your primary romantic relationship. And no lover, Overlapping or not, can ever fix this.

Julie Burchill

Julie Burchill’s hobbies include luncheon, philanthropy and spite. She has published more than a dozen books, the latest of which is WELCOME TO THE WOKE TRIALS: HOW #IDENTITY KILLED PROGRESSIVE POLITICS, Academica Books, on Amazon in hardback and Kindle. She has lived in Brighton/Hove for more than a quarter of a century – and still feels like she’s on holiday.

The post When you’re the leaver, do you leap? Or do you like to ‘Overlap’? appeared first on Silver Magazine.

I don’t think mine is a particularly unusual story, although I do also know that lots of people won’t feel the same way as me, and some of my friends would be tutting very loudly. Marriage – whether you’re religious or not – is at the very least a series of promises you make to the person you love. And whether it’s a matter of honour, or the beady eyes of the Lord ensuring you stick to the deal, breaking those promises is a breach of trust, a shattering of those bonds. So you might wonder why I cheat on my husband.

The promises we make to each other in our youth, when we are idealistic, unfettered… full of lust and with all our time ahead, not times behind us – well, perhaps those promises sometimes need revisiting. People sometimes renew their vows, don’t they? I wonder if the promises they make to each other the second time around are different. They ought to be, I think. Because the people we are at 25 are very different to the people we are at 55.

Then one day you find yourself looking out of the window and wondering well… is that it?

My story begins, realistically, in a place where I think a lot of us find ourselves. Been together for years, got through the kids, the working together. The adventures of home making and empire building. The overcoming of hard times, the celebration and joy of successes. The supporting each other through sickness and health. The deep love and connection – which incidentally is very much still there – but then one day you find yourself looking out of the window and wondering well… is that it?

I’m going to keep saying this because there will be people who doubt it. I love my husband.

I love him very, very much and I couldn’t imagine for a minute being without him. We are at the same time both entirely compatible but ultimately very different people, and it has been that similarity and those differences that has kept us interested in each other and excited to spend time together for such a long time.

But excitement is missing in one very fundamental area of our lives. And that’s the bedroom. Or the kitchen table. Or the dark alley down the side of the house. Or the sofa in front of a muted film…

As we’ve got older, getting involved in spanking and admonishment has felt, well, a bit Victoria Wood

Please, don’t start thinking wow, they should try pepping things up a bit, we can all get a bit bored, boring and bland in that department after years. You need to know we’ve tried a lot of stuff. We’ve always had a fairly robust interest in the play of power and pain, but honestly that takes some time and commitment to set up, and as we’ve got older, getting involved in spanking and admonishment has felt, well, a bit Victoria Wood.

We’ve had a go at role play

I look ridiculous dressed as a WPC, I can tell you that for nothing. We have tried fantasies and fun, food and fellatio (I nearly put fisting there for the sake of alliteration but we haven’t actually tried that. Neither of us are too keen). We’ve had a bash at lots of stuff. And all of these things have had varying levels of success. Some have been enormously sexy. Some have been hilarious. But honest to god, at the end of the day this is a man I have been with for decades and really, generating much enthusiasm – for either of us – is hard work. And I know he feels the same. In fact, of the two of us, he is the one far less worried about this. He just isn’t interested in sex.

So we don’t tend to bother. We are close, we cuddle. We hug and are physically affectionate. We prefer each other’s company to anyone else’s. I adore him, and still love things like the way his hair curls in different ways on either side of his head, or how soft his voice is. I long for him when he’s not there.

Read more: Help! I’m trapped in a sexless marriage

But as for sex?

On the one hand it’s easy just to not bother, but on the other, I really miss it. I miss the visceral excitement. I found that as the years passed and he just didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to want to make the effort, it became more and more difficult for me to gee us up. I felt unattractive. I lost confidence. Actually, I started to wonder if we should even be together any more.

I had a sudden flash, like a bump on the head. I needed more. I needed to get out, find myself

He doesn’t know this – but I was a fag paper away from leaving him last year. I’d been having one of those days where I looked in the mirror and felt pretty smug about what I saw. I’m slim, I dress well. I have good hair and I’m funny – dammit I’m sexy, especially on a good day like this. And I was thinking it was a shame it was all going to waste. Call it a midlife crisis if you like, but I had a sudden flash, like a bump on the head. I needed more. I needed to get out, find myself.

So I went through all these hare-brained plans about leaving and what I would do. And I felt really gutted. And then really confused. I rang my friend.

“I want to feel sexy and exciting and get fucked and not just be at home all the time,” I gabbled. “What do I do? If I don’t do something I’m going to die like this, with my bits all full of cobwebs.”

My friend, in her infinite wisdom – and immediately game for a partner in crime (she is single) – said pragmatically that what I needed was a night out. Let my hair down, have a few drinks. So off we went – hair down and morals loose.

I met a man that night

A younger man – not by years, but young enough to be exciting and sexy. And we just did that absolutely textbook thing of flirting for a bit over martinis, and then booking a room upstairs. Literally! I felt like I was in an Erica Jong book! We had exciting, meaningless sex that was really very good indeed, and that was it.

For the first time in my entire life I understood the difference between love and sex

So here I am where I’m going to remind you how much I love my husband. And to tell you gasping and disapproving lot how once I’d done this I didn’t feel bad or guilty at all – I just felt relieved, like I’d scratched an itch. Maybe I should have felt bad – but for the first time in my entire life I understood the difference between love and sex. What I’d just had was sex – and it made my tail wag and made me jump for joy – but it wasn’t love. I didn’t care if I never saw this chap again (he was super keen, ironically). But more than anything, once I’d showered, and checked there was nothing for me to get busted over, I couldn’t wait to get home to my beloved husband.

Does that sound awful? I suppose it does. I would have rather stuck pins in my eyes than hurt him, and that was my primary consideration. Not about being busted – I wasn’t ashamed of what I’d done. But to break his heart? That would be something I would never, ever want to do.

He barely stirred when I got on home. I snuggled up behind him and slept like a log, curled around him.

And this was the start of a behaviour I would repeat. Not often, and not close to home, not on my doorstep. Not as an ongoing affair, ever; I made a promise to myself right at the start – no affairs of the heart, only sex. And I swear it’s the reason my husband and I are still together. He seems relieved that I’ve given up strapping on the tackle and trying to whip up excitement in the bedroom – and so every now and again I indulge myself elsewhere.

I joined a dating app

I’m very discreet, and if I’m honest I prefer to hook up with other men who are also married, as they don’t tend to want anything out of the arrangement except sex either. The meetings and choices don’t always go well. Sometimes I walk away empty-handed, as it were. But the occasional excitement and adventure means I don’t spend time at home feeling wistful and wondering if I should leave.

I have often wondered if my husband might be doing the same thing and how I would feel

I have often wondered if my husband might be doing the same thing and how I would feel if that were the case. The honest answer is that I don’t know – to either of those posers. I’d like to imagine I’d feel it was all fair and as long as we still loved each other and our marriage triumphed, then great. But I suspect I’d be jealous. I think I’d just rather not know.

Anyway – removing this lopsided desire and its incumbent pressure from our marriage is working fine for now. Long may it continue, as long as no one gets hurt.

[Name supplied]

Sam Harrington-Lowe

Sam is Silver’s founder and editor-in-chief. She’s largely responsible for organising all the things, but still finds time to do the odd bit of writing. Not enough though. Send help.

The post Why I cheat on my husband appeared first on Silver Magazine.

But are we as people entirely to blame, or does digital play a part? Has online dating made cheating easier, and harder to turn down? Tabatha Fabray pulls back the bed covers to investigate…

A US study from the Institute for Family Studies (IFS) discovered that couples who are over 55 reported more cases of infidelity than their younger counterparts. A fairly shocking 20% of people over the age of 55 say that their relationship is adulterous, and the study found that those in their 50s and 60s were most likely of all the age groups to cheat. So why is this?

The study found that those in their 50s and 60s were most likely of all the age groups to cheat

There’s no question that the rise of new technologies such as smartphones and social media have made it easier to have an affair or to cheat on your partner. Multiple online dating sites, apps where you can hook up with someone within a five-mile radius in a mere five minutes, ‘sexting’, and even innocuous social media sites such as Facebook have all facilitated the act of cheating, but can we really blame them for the choices that we make? Or are there other factors involved?

Read more: Why I cheat on my husband

The Swinging Sixties
Did you come of age during the sexual revolution, when monogamy was brushed aside? You were actively encouraged to explore your sexuality for the first time, and how great was that?! The arrival of the contraceptive pill was an epic moment for all women of this era – a chance to be sexually free, without worry of certain repercussions. You don’t just forget these values that you experienced growing up, so this could easily be a factor in the increase in the over-50s seeking extramarital fun.

Unresolved issues
Long-lasting problems in any marriage can lead to a build-up of resentment, unhappiness and a desire to run away – perhaps into the arms of someone else? An affair can seem like the ideal solution to an unhappy marriage, providing a chance to forget your everyday struggles, and experience something new and exciting.

Flirt for your future
Being over 50 now is not how it used to be. Today’s 50+ women and men are sexy, vivacious, fit and actively seeking new adventures. Being stuck at home in an unfulfilled marriage isn’t part of the equation, so having a bit on the side could easily be seen as an extension of this renewed lust for life. You’ll not put up with mediocrity in the rest of your life, so why would you in your relationship?

Routine rut
Boredom can be the silent relationship killer. Being with any one person for a long amount of time is bound to lead to periods of ennui, especially once your children have flown the nest, and you’re left alone with that person day in and day out. Maybe the physical intimacy in your relationship has gone, or become more perfunctory than passionate? Feeling undesired, sexually unattractive, or worst, sexually invisible, can all lead to thoughts of straying.

Cultural changes
Never has there been so much focus on sex and infidelity in the media and on our television screens than there is today. Have a think about what TV programmes have made the headlines recently: Doctor Foster, The Affair, The Split... All of these emotional dramas surrounding the topics of cheating spouses, divorce and affairs have had us glued to our sofas. As a nation, we’re fascinated by infidelity, and obsessed with sexual encounters. Could these programmes make us more likely to seek extramarital thrills, or do they act as a warning as to what could happen if we play with fire?

Let’s be honest about the fun
Infidelity is a complex issue, and you never know what’s going on behind closed doors, or what makes someone wake up one morning and decide to cheat on their partner. That being said, the majority of people cheat because it’s fun. Yes, we said it; cheating really can be fun, despite the obvious damage it can cause. For many, it’s a chance to feel desirable, young, gorgeous and powerful again. Someone new is telling you all of the things that maybe you want hear from your current partner but don’t. Technology has simply made this easier for us to achieve, by connecting us with more people.

But in the end, it all boils down to human nature. Lust can take even the sanest, most rational person, and turn them into an uncontrollable horny teenager. Really, by our age, we should know better, but we can’t fight biology anymore than the younger generation… or can we?!

Thinking of cheating?

Stop!
Play the scenario through to the end. Is it worth the emotional car crash that would inevitably happen if you got busted?

Think!
Why are you considering this? Are you unhappy in your relationship? Are you just looking for some fun? Have you tried to make things at home work before seeking outside thrills? Or have you literally just met the real love of your life and need to move on. Whatever the reason, look at it with integrity. If life with your partner has simply got stale, do something about it. If you’re definitely unhappy and can’t see a way back, do the right thing and be honest, finish things. Our advice – don’t sneak around being that shady person who has affairs and flings. Your partner likely deserves better (and yes, we do accept there’s exceptions to the rule).

Step away!
If you’re feeling tempted by someone and you know it’s simply going to be a case of opportunity, simply avoid the opportunity. Go home and do something nice for your other half instead.

Tabatha Fabray

The post Do you think I’m sexty?! Has online dating made cheating easier? appeared first on Silver Magazine.