Straightening her best black jacket, Cheryl Johnson files past the coffin, pausing outside the church to read the wreath cards. She offers her sincerest condolences to the widow and her two daughters. Then promises to join them at the local gastro pub for a lunch buffet and to raise a toast to the dearly departed. 

She has never met the dead man, and only found out about his cremation through the local paper’s obituaries

Cheryl, 69, tucks into a sausage roll at the wake and sips on her second glass of wine. She nods at the fond memories being shared about the deceased by his grieving family and friends. They have no idea this well-dressed grandmother-of-two is nursing a grave secret. She has never met the dead man, and only found out about his cremation through the local paper’s obituaries. 

That’s because Cheryl is a funeral crasher, and this is the sixth stranger’s funeral she’s been to this month.

“It might sound strange, but funerals are a wonderful day out,” she says. “You get to meet new people, dress up, and there’s usually some fantastic food. It’s very much like a wedding with a celebratory atmosphere after all the emotion. Everyone wants to remember and celebrate the dead person’s life and they just assume that I knew them too. It’s never awkward.”

“I started doing this after a spell of funerals when members of family and a few friends died. I realised when there hadn’t been a funeral for a couple of months that I missed the company and having a reason to socialise.” She explains. 

“I’m not being disrespectful. I’m honouring the dead by being there to celebrate their life. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t know them. I’m helping to give them a good send off.”

Swedish Death Cleaning – are you prepared for your own death?

Women in black

Surprisingly, Cheryl is not alone. Theresa Doyle was caught going to several funerals a day around Slough and Berkshire, whilst ‘pilfering dead men’s sandwiches’. 

Outraged mourners complained that the 65-year-old carries a black funeral outfit to change into, before going into church. She tags along to the wake and helps herself to heaps of food. Even bringing Tupperware containers along to take some home, and put in her freezer. 

Mrs Doyle, who’s a funeral crasher of over 14 years, has even been accused of inventing stories about how she knows the deceased.

… the 65-year-old carries a black funeral outfit to change into. She tags along to the wake and helps herself to heaps of food

After crashing Margaret Whitehead’s daughter Catherine’s funeral, the pensioner said that she’d worked with Catherine as a waitress. “There were a lot of people at the funeral from Catherine’s work so I just assumed she was a colleague,” the distraught mother said. “But my daughter was never a waitress.”

“She [Doyle] was eating from the buffet like there was no tomorrow. At the end of the wake she took out a Tupperware box, filled it up with food and cycled off with it in the basket on her bicycle. She intrudes on people when they are upset and sad.” Margaret says.

Funeral crasher psychology

Psychologist Angela Mansi (CORR) identifies funeral crashers as ‘emotional vampires’. They suck up the energy and drama of the real mourners at the ceremony.

“There is clearly something missing from their own lives,” she says. “A funeral is a private, deeply emotional occasion. These crashers aren’t just there for the food – they want to be immersed in the grief and be around people who are mourning a loved one. 

“They are an observer at a stranger’s funeral but there’s a real need for them being fulfilled by being there and that relates to emptiness and loneliness.”

A funeral is a private, deeply emotional occasion. These crashers aren’t just there for the food – they want to be immersed in the grief

Angela lectures on business and the ‘dark side’ of personality, at the University of Westminster. She says that funerals are a way for these often isolated, lonely people to become, temporarily, part of a community. “We used to have more established places for people to come together, such as churches, fayres and fetes,” she explains, “but there are less of them now.” She discusses.

“People are being further isolated by technology and more are living alone so funerals are one of the last ways we can pay homage to someone while joining in with others in a social ritual.”

The Grim Eater

A man dubbed the Grim Eater crashed up to four funerals a week and took home food in a doggy bag. Undertakers banned him from attending any more funerals.

“He was showing up to funeral after funeral and, without a doubt, he didn’t know the deceased,” Danny Langstraat from Harbour City Funeral Home, in Wellington, New Zealand, said. But after taking the crasher aside to warn him to stop, the undertakers took a photograph of him and circulated it to all their offices and colleagues. 

Noel McDermott, psychotherapist

Noel McDermott, psychotherapist and international speaker, insists though that going to strangers’ funerals is normal and was only deemed inappropriate by the Victorians who wanted to sanitise death and everything surrounding it. 

“In many cultures it’s still not unusual for an entire town to turn out for a funeral – even though many of the mourners will never have met the deceased,” he explains. “Grieving is what makes us human. In fact, the most defining moment of the human species transitioning from animals is when we began to start decorate public spaces around death and make graves.”

The romance in the morbid

Funerals are emotionally intense and many funeral crashers may crave that raw and deep intimacy and experience, Noel says. 

And there can even be a surprising outcome to all that pent-up emotion – funerals can be highly erotic. “It’s well known that people often hook up at funerals,” he says. “There’s so much talk of death, and so much heightened emotion, that people want to be reminded of their mortality and will often engage in sexual intercourse as a way of reminding themselves they’re alive.”

… her date refused to reveal where he was taking her. Revealing to her only to: ‘wear a black dress and I’ll surprise you.’

One woman, who accidentally found herself crashing a funeral on a first date with a man she met on Tinder, didn’t think it was sexy though. The woman from Leeds whose tweets about the disastrous date went viral, was initially excited when her date refused to reveal where he was taking her. Revealing to her only to: ‘wear a black dress and I’ll surprise you.’ 

Her enthusiasm soon cooled when he picked her up and drove her to a crematorium for his grandmother’s funeral. Explaining how she felt, she explained, “He was holding my hand crying – I couldn’t leave.” Needless to say their romance is now dead. 

Four weddings or a funeral

But there’s no reason why going to a funeral can’t be as enjoyable as going to a wedding, says writer Bridget Whelan. The 63-year-old from Brighton & Hove in Sussex, was brought up in Ireland. She says in Irish culture, funerals are seen as part of the rich tapestry of everyone’s social life. 

“They can be a great social occasion,” Bridget says. “It’s a chance to meet lots of nice people and have some fantastic food and drink. It’s a bit like a wedding, and in Ireland it’s completely normal to go to the funeral of someone you hardly know or have never met. And, if you’re in your 50s or 60s a funeral can be the highlight of your social calendar.” 

“…in Ireland it’s completely normal to go to the funeral of someone you hardly know”

“Everyone knows about the local funerals and everyone comes. Those that attended my father’s funeral included his chiropodist and my mother’s hairdresser. An old school friend of my uncle’s by marriage was there. He had never met my father. Why did he come? Because my uncle had lost a brother in law – that was enough reason.”

Bridget says there’s nothing to be ashamed of by letting people know you didn’t know the deceased. “My advice to anyone thinking of going to a funeral is go,” she insists. “Be honest and say if you didn’t know the deceased well. Explain you heard the news and wanted to let the bereaved know how sorry you were to hear it.”

How to crash a funeral 

We’re absolutely not suggesting you should do this, but if you fancy funeral crashing/showing your respects, then The Other Side of Funerals shares the secrets of how to attend without attracting attention to yourself.

• Dress appropriately.  Black clothing should enable entry to most funeral without a second glance. The key is to fit in without standing out.
• Pre-plan and research.  Read obituary notices – often the family will include all the details you need, from the name of the deceased to the time and location of the service.  You will also be able to work out if there is a wake.
• Act confident. This is perhaps the most important thing – just walk in as though you were meant to [be there].
• Be punctual but not early.  Arriving late gets looks, but so does being the only one in the church as people arrive. However, if you walk in with the crowd then you are just one among many – which is usually 15 minutes before the funeral is due to start. As you enter, sign the condolence book and take an order of service.
• Blend in but don’t just stand about.  Standing about awkwardly will get you noticed and then people are likely to question you. Stand in the crowd and talk to someone. Priests or nuns are good as they are experienced with funerals and are more causal than the average mourner.
• Go in pairs if possible. Being part of a duo is a lot easier than being alone. It will give you someone to talk with freely at the wake and someone to help come up with excuses or ideas if needed.

Read more: Talking to your family about making a will

Karen Pasquali Jones

The post Confessions of the funeral crashers appeared first on Silver Magazine.

For her it was just a bit of fun, and for women it’s not uncommon practice – they are significantly more likely to ‘try it out’ or possibly even identify as bisexual. But for the lesbians who get toyed with by the women who are just experimenting it’s no laughing matter, as Londoner Esta, 57, will tell you.

SARAH

When Mel B confessed that she’d slept with bandmate Geri Halliwell at the height of their fame I wasn’t surprised. After all, studies show a quarter of straight women indulge in a little girl-on-girl action at least once in their life.

But I was jealous, even though I have a husband and two children. Geri is just my type, petite with a huge personality – and reminds me of the woman I risked my marriage for.

It was just for one night, but it was incredible. Deborah and I had been friends for a while after I started a new job as a legal secretary. It wasn’t exactly thrilling – my male boss was a bully and the workload was enormous. The office atmosphere was very subdued but then Deborah, a paralegal, befriended me and we started going for lunches and nights out.

She was beautiful, with long red hair, younger than me, and very outgoing. She made me laugh and then, in the middle of a very boozy bar session, she told me she was a lesbian

She was beautiful, with long red hair, younger than me, and very outgoing. She made me laugh and then, in the middle of a very boozy bar session, she told me she was a lesbian. I think she expected me to be shocked. I was married, almost 50, and had two teenage children, but I didn’t care. Who she slept with was her business.

Except I did begin to see her in a different way. I wasn’t repulsed. Far from it – I began fantasising about Deborah. She was sexy, but it wasn’t just that. She represented excitement – an escape away from the humdrum everyday existence as a wife and a mother. I’d been doing that for decades. I yearned to be free in the same hedonistic way that Deborah was. No ties. No restraint. No guilt.

I began to flirt with her after a few drinks on nights out. I dressed up for her the way I’d once glammed up for my husband

So I began to flirt with her after a few drinks on nights out, dressing up for her the way I’d once glammed up for my husband. When I was near her, I felt my pulse throbbing in my temples, so when she kissed me in a nightclub one night I kissed her back, harder.

I’d even made an excuse hoping this would happen. ‘I’m going to crash at Deborah’s,’ I texted my husband. ‘I’ve had too many drinks with the girls. Will be back early tomorrow.’ He didn’t mind. ‘Have a great time,’ he wrote back. I hardly ever went out, so he was glad I’d found such a good friend.

Deborah smiled when I told what I’d done – and called a cab. The sex was the best I’ve ever had. The orgasms were stronger, longer and there were plenty of them. I’ve always struggled to come with my husband, and never before experienced anything like the intensity I did with Deborah.

It was so good I slept with her once more, but guilt began to prickle, and I realised it couldn’t carry on. I wasn’t a lesbian. I didn’t love her. It was just mind-blowing sex.

I never told my husband and I stayed friends with Deborah. She wanted to carry on, but I couldn’t leave my children or my husband for her, so what was the point?

Read: those in their 50s and 60s were most likely of all the age groups to cheat

We’re still friends now, but we don’t work together anymore. She left for a promotion so it’s just Facebook contact now and again. Like Mel B, I don’t regret my encounter with my friend, but it was just a one-off that finished as soon as it had begun. It was just a wild fantasy that I was in the position to make reality.

ESTA

I‘m sick of straight women treating lesbians as playthings. Straight women think they can have it all: a conventional marriage, kids and a fantastic but secret sex life with a woman whenever they want it. They don’t see how hurtful their deceit is or how heart-breaking it is to treat us as playthings.

I end up being used by straight women who think dabbling is a thrilling sexual adventure with no strings attached

Being a lesbian doesn’t mean not having any feelings, but I’ve learnt to be tough otherwise I end up being used by straight women who think dabbling is a thrilling sexual adventure with no strings attached. I can’t tell you how many straight women have come onto me, especially when they’re drunk. I’ve had to be ‘chivalrous’ and get them in a cab home, but it’s been hard if they’re hot.

I’ve always been gay, but lots of women’s sexuality is fluid, and we’re targeted by straight women who want to experiment.

When I was younger I had my heart broken by a woman I fell in love with. I thought she felt the same way but then I came home from work early and found her in my bed with a man. Another time I even shared my girlfriend with a man, but she gave into convention to get married and have children.

I think Mel B was wrong to confess she’d slept with Geri. It was a private moment between friends that should have stayed secret

All my lovers have always said they have more orgasms with me than with men. But it still hurt when they left. I’ve now been in a relationship for 15 years and would never look at another woman.

I think Mel B was wrong to confess she’d slept with Geri. It was a private moment between friends that should have stayed secret. What happens on tour stays on tour, especially between women.

Girl Power: same-sex encounters are becoming more popular

• A study of 2,000 British women by Onepoll discovered a quarter of straight women say they’ve had a sexual encounter with a woman
• The percentage of women reporting same sex experiences has doubled since 1972
• A 2017 study by the Kinsey Institute in America discovered lesbians reported orgasming 86 percent of the time during sex as opposed to 65 percent for straight women

As told to Karen Pasquali Jones

Karen Pasquali Jones

The post Spicing up your life?! How your dabbles with girl crushes can leave lesbians heartbroken appeared first on Silver Magazine.

Silhouetted against the glow of the bedside lamp, Steve undresses quickly, his body still taut from twice weekly gym workouts. His skin is cold as he jumps under the duvet beside me. I move closer and he turns, enveloping me in a familiar cloud of Acqua di Parma. His fingers brush against my new La Perla lingerie, bought in readiness for tonight, his 54th birthday.

I can smell his breath on me now, tinged with Armagnac and an indulgent Montecristo No 4 cigar saved from last year’s holiday to Cuba. I smile in the gloom as he inches towards me, desperate to celebrate his birthday in the best way we know how. His lips are just above mine, and I close my eyes as his body shifts ever nearer.

“Night love,” he says, his arm reaching out to switch off the light. And just like that my husband of 23 years turns away and promptly falls asleep.

I don’t know why I’m surprised. After all, we haven’t slept together in almost a year.

“It won’t last,” my friends and close colleagues would laugh when I’d turn up at work with my shiny new wedding ring and raw snog rash

We weren’t always like this. Before we had children – twin boys now about to graduate from university and a 19-year-old girl – we made love almost every night. All night.

“It won’t last,” my friends and close colleagues would laugh when I’d turn up at work with my shiny new wedding ring and raw snog rash. But two years after our home counties wedding we still had sex every evening, and most mornings.

Trying for a baby never felt like a chore. It gave us a legitimate reason to have sex as often as possible and stay in bed most of the day at weekends. Even when I was pregnant I still wanted Steve all the time.

Sleepless nights after our babies were born didn’t damper our ardour. We always made time for each other at bedtime, and when the children were asleep. Which is why it’s so painful now.

Slow descent into sexlessness

I can’t even remember how this gradual slide into a sexless marriage happened. “I’m tired,” he began to say. I didn’t want to pressure him. He was a solicitor with a huge workload. And so slowly our lovemaking tapered off from every night to twice a week, then once, and, without me really noticing, a fortnight had gone by without us making love.

It hurt being rejected. I’d flinch when he turned his back

“Not now,” Steve would say when I tried to cuddle up to him. “I’ve got a lot on at work.” A fortnight became three weeks, then a month, then two. It hurt being rejected. I’d flinch when he turned his back, or his body refused to become aroused under my touch.

My friends would laugh and roll their eyes over girly lunches about being pestered every night by their husbands and I’d feel a physical ache knowing I wasn’t one of them. I kept my rejection a secret, too ashamed to admit I was no longer desired.

Of course, I suffered. Had he met someone else? Was I too fat? Too wrinkled and saggy now? He refused to talk about it. “I’m just exhausted, that’s all,” Steve would insist. “It’s not you.”

But how could it not be when all this time had passed and my once very enthusiastic lover is now my platonic friend?

I’m not alone

Sexless marriages – which are defined as making love 10 times or less or year (ironically, I would be happy with that!) – are quite common. Research from the sociology department at Georgia State University in the US shows that 15 per cent of married couples there have not had sex with their spouse within the past six to 12 months.

Closer to home, Relate reports that 23 per cent of Brits are unhappy with our sex lives. One in five say low libido or differing sex drives puts a strain on their relationship.

Therapy is the solution, researchers say, but Steve won’t even entertain the idea. “There’s nothing wrong,” he insists. And I don’t see how talking endlessly with a stranger about our non-existent love life will make Steve want to have sex with me.

Running out of ideas

Of course, I’ve tried everything to seem more attractive, including dressing up, trying to turn him on, and asking him about his fantasies. But he doesn’t have any – or none that have me in them.

We hold hands, seem like a normal husband and wife. But we don’t make love and I have no idea why

I’ve thought fleetingly about going elsewhere, but he’s the man I love. I only want to have sex with him. So, I’ve taken to pleasuring myself in the shower and have become emotionally desperate – clingy, if you will.

It’s silly because looking at us you would never know we’re not intimate. We hold hands, seem like a normal husband and wife. But we don’t make love and I have no idea why. “It’ll come back,” Steve tells me. His reassurances keep me at arm’s length. I don’t want to lose him. After all, we’re a family, and I do love him.

But somehow it doesn’t feel enough. His lack of libido – which there’s no medical or emotional reason for – is a rejection that stings. The constant rejection rubs away at my self-esteem until it’s raw.

I feel trapped under the responsibility of this sexless marriage but I don’t know how to fix it. And I can’t walk away. I keep hoping that as suddenly as our sex life disappeared it will come back.

I hope it won’t be too much longer before Steve wants me, as this waiting game is slowly destroying me and our marriage.

Common Reasons for a Sexless Marriage

• Mismatched or low sex drives
• Boredom
• Infidelity
• Stress
• Tiredness
• Depression or mental health issues
• Erectile dysfunction
• Medication side effects

How does your sex life measure up?

• 50 per cent of couples have sex once a month
• Just 37 per cent of women over the age of 65 had sex in the past year
• Only a third – 34 per cent – of couples are happy with their sex lives
• A staggering 90 per cent haven’t tried anything new in bed since their first anniversary
• 30 per cent of over-65s feel that watching porn without their partner is the same as cheating

*Joanne is a real person but we’ve hidden her identity as per her request.

Karen Pasquali Jones

The post I’m trapped in a sexless marriage and don’t know how to fix it appeared first on Silver Magazine.