My divorced friends are having the best sex of their lives – I’m jealous

I was in a pub garden, sharing a bottle of rose with my recently-divorced friend and talking about the new world of dating she found herself in. She admitted that the apps were intimidating at first (“there were crummy dates”) and I nodded sympathetically – hearing that dating after a long-term relationship was especially tricky for women in their fifties like us – but then she made a confession. “The sex has given me a new lease of life.” I’ve read many horror stories about midlife dating: people who claim to be single but aren’t, having to get into the mindset of sex with someone new after years sharing a bed with one person, showing your body to someone who didn’t watch you birth two children. But my friend revealed she now had a friend with benefits – and it had changed her life. “We meet up twice a month, maybe more, and have the most incredible time together,” she explained. I asked if she thought he was seeing other women, too. “He might be but I don’t care,” came the response. “I’m not looking for a serious relationship. I just need a bit of fun, in fact, I might not even settle down ever.” She took another sip of wine, and smiled knowingly. “It’s fun and if it’s not then you move on”. Shorts She told me that the sex was satisfying because she was older and more confident in saying what she liked best, that she’d realised that her ex and her had been stuck in a rut going through the same old moves and that these moves weren’t working for either of them. “I wish more women could experience this at our age,” she told me. It’s not just my friend talking about it. Sharon Horgan’s new TV show, Youth, follows the adventures of Alex, a 50-year-old newly divorced woman juggling sex and dating with a teen son and ageing parents. Horgan said in an interview that she has friends who are “incredibly free with their bodies” and feel this stage of life is a “whole new era” that they’re embracing. I have friends like that, too. Newly single and launching themselves into a brave new world of sex. One friend in her mid-forties (no children) split from her husband a year ago and wasted no time in getting back out there. Like a Greyhound sprinting at the start of a race. Her relationship wasn’t great for years. Her partner was distant, she suspected an affair, like ships in the night. I think mentally she’d been thinking about divorce for a long time, so she didn’t waste time once it was over. New hair. New wardrobe. She was different to my pub friend in that she wanted a relationship, not just sex. Six months later, she’s moved in with someone new. It’s worth saying I do have married friends who are happy with their sex lives. They don’t perhaps talk about it so much as the ones who are peeved (women tend to bond over the bad sex they’re having). But we are all well versed in the challenges of maintaining a sexy sex life in a long-term relationship – I sometimes wish there were more TV shows about this. But many friends who are single are going through a mad sexual renaissance. It’s like they’re coming out of a no-sex coma and being jolted back to life. “Come in, the water is lovely,” they shout at us married folk. They dust off their underwear and start investing in Agent Provocateur peek-a-boo bras whilst carting their M&S pants to the recycling. Shaving their legs every day, rather than on the arranged “sex maintenance day”, and considering waxing their pubic hair. Of course, it’s not all roses and, of course, there is a lot of fear and sadness too (often around body image and the loss of a relationship, safety and the stability that comes with that). But at least three friends are having the kind of sex that makes those of us living with partners feel FOMO. Sharon Horgan has said that she has friends who are ‘incredibly free with their bodies’ and feel this stage of life is a ‘whole new era’ that they’re embracing (Photo: Colin Hutton/ HBO) We become like private investigators, asking loads of questions. It’s not that we wish we were divorced – it’s traumatic and we want to work things out where we can – but we are curious. What is it like? What positions did you try? Did you hide under the duvet? Did you orgasm? Did you fake it? How long did it last? What’s the fashion in sex right now? Do you need to be very athletic? Did your knees hurt? Do people do things like a 69 these days? What age range are you dating? Is dating younger men weird? What do you do if you don’t fancy each other? It’s a bit like the scene in Grease, where the Pink Ladies interrogate Sandy and screech – “Tell me more, tell me more”. Or at school when you’re eager to hear the details from the one girl who has given a blow job (and you haven’t seen a penis and are scared). I came home one evening and told my partner what great sex my friend was having. “Good for her,” he replied. That was it. I don’t know what I was hoping to get out of the exchange. I don’t want us to separate but perhaps I was hoping we’d suddenly be like a couple that have just met on a dating app, wearing sexy underwear, who aren’t always talking about parenting. I know realistically that sex early on in a relationship is exciting and we’ve all experienced that honeymoon period where you get butterflies each time your partner looks in your direction. And that’s what my divorced friends are having right now. The fresh sex. The passion. The hormone boosting thing that you can’t buy. I need to remind myself not to idealise that. And to remember there are many crap parts about divorce. Missing the person you can talk to. Having someone to rub your feet and make lasagna and not expect sex. In Kate Bush’s song “Moments of Pleasure”, she recalls her late mother’s saying: “Every old sock needs an old shoe.” There are many benefits to being an old sock. The comfort, safety, warmth, familiarity. But now and then, there is a bit of envy creeping in. And perhaps some longing for a bit more suspender belt and peek-a-boo bra than M&S pants.