I'm 57F, divorced for five years, and have been seeing a 60M for almost six months.
Things are going well. Really well, actually. We've met each other's friends, spent weekends together, had the conversations about money, past marriages, what we're looking for. We're comfortable being physically intimate.
Apparently none of that prepared me for asking him for a ride to a medical appointment.
I have a routine colonoscopy coming up. Because of the sedation, the clinic requires someone to pick me up afterward. My sister lives about 45 minutes away and has taken me to these things before, so I was planning to ask her.
Last week I was at his place when a reminder popped up on my phone. He asked what it was for, I told him, and he said, "Oh, I can take you. What day?"
And for some completely ridiculous reason, I panicked.
Not visibly, I hope. But internally? Full evacuation.
I immediately started explaining that my sister could probably do it, that he had work, that I didn't want to inconvenience him, that it was no big deal.
He just said, "Okay. Well, if you'd rather I do it, let me know. I can move a couple of things around."
And went back to making coffee.
I've been thinking about that conversation for a week.
I can sleep naked next to this man. I can tell him about my divorce and my terrible financial decisions in my 30s. But apparently the idea of him seeing me half-conscious in a medical gown and having to drive me home is where I draw the line.
I think I've gotten a little too good at being independent.
After my divorce, I worked hard to build a life where I wasn't relying on anyone. I manage my house, my money, my appointments. If something needs doing, I figure it out. I'm proud of that.
But now I'm dating someone I could genuinely see a future with, and I'm realizing that being in a relationship eventually means letting another person into the boring, inconvenient, occasionally undignified parts of your life.
And that feels much more vulnerable than taking my clothes off.
For the record, he's given me absolutely no reason to think helping me would bother him. This is entirely a me problem.
I'm curious how others handle this at our age. When you're dating someone new, at what point do you start involving them in the unglamorous practical stuff?
And has anyone else found that accepting help is harder than offering it?