I found this comment especially interesting: "David was 71 when he told me he’d started having the best sex of his life. Not because bodies worked better at 71 (they don’t), but because he’d stopped performing." People are often surprised that those of us in late life still enjoy sex. And perhaps somewhat by necessity -- our bodies change -- we engage in slow sex, intimate sex. Not slam-bam sex, not didn't-catch-your-name sex. Sexual satisfaction remains high if and when we begin to understand, accept, and adapt that some things have changed. But that isn't all bad.
Yes. Sex gets better when it starts being a conversation between two bodies that actually live in the real world. Slower can mean more sensation, more honesty, more choice, and fewer ego games about stamina or novelty. Aging forces adaptation, but adaptation is basically the doorway to intimacy if you let it be. Thanks for your perspective :)
This piece resonated. I’m 66. I am enjoying finding my voice, every single day. I’m getting good at it too. Lol. I really like the framing here of our life experiences, especially learning how to not simply survive but thrive can make all the difference.
Finding your voice at 66 is such a power move 😄 And yes, survival teaches skills, but thriving is what happens when you stop apologizing for wanting more than “fine.” Keep going, Michael, because the confidence gets addictive in the best way.
This is exactly why I prefer to be with men older than me.
People my age are too obsessed with getting around, having fun, always performing. I wanna talk about what broke you, how you got back up, how we can help each other be better even when we don't want to be.
The sad thing is I can't find any gay men like that where I am.
If I make it to 60 with half the drive of the men you talked about in this letter, hopefully find a good man to be with before that, I'd count myself the luckiest guy in the world.
You’re not wrong about the vibe shift, but I’d be careful with the story that depth only lives in older bodies. Plenty of older men are still collecting distractions like Pokémon, and plenty of guys your age are starving for exactly what you’re describing.
Also, don’t wait until 60 to earn that life. Start now. Become the man who can hold that kind of intimacy, then go where men like that spend their time. The “luckiest guy” part tends to follow the boring stuff: showing up, staying open, and not dating people who treat connection like a side quest.
Beautiful piece. I look back at my life from 63, I traipzed across Canada for a youth volunteer program at 18, traveled the world several times, changed cities three times, three careers. Came out at 23. Found the love of my life at 30. When I turned 60 and friend said to me I can't wait to see what you do next. Well, I started intense recovery, and been rebuilding my company while living out of the office. Who knows what is next. This reading came when I was feeling down; What is next??? I can't wait to see.
Adam, you’ve already proven “next” is something you’re good at 😄 Recovery plus rebuilding plus living out of the office is a pivot with teeth. Keep following the thread that feels alive and the next chapter tends to reveal itself once you’re in motion.
Oh boy. Someone who tells it how it is. People confuse physical and mental aging. Inside our minds, we are still young, still exploring, still finding things out, experimenting. Not everyone. But certainly I am. My body is still fit, slim and active. And I have learnt the joys of being a bottom. After most of my life as a top. With men and women. What scared me now intrigues me. I don’t worry about what people think. Yes, I get come-ons from younger guys, who really only want money (certainly on line!). I know this. They will grow old too, some of them… older age is when you accept who you are, without fear or recrimination. And hopefully with supportive friends and partners…
You’re naming the best part of aging:, Peter: the fear shelf collapses, and suddenly curiosity has room to move in. 🙂
That late-life sexual flexibility is what happens when you stop performing and start listening to your actual body.
And yes, the bargain-hunters will always exist online, but it sounds like you’ve upgraded to something rarer: self-acceptance that doesn’t need an audience.
I’m conflicted. I just hit my 50’s and since my 40’s, I’ve found myself in no man’s land. Older men generally seem to try to run after some ghost of their youth - in the form of very young twinks (preferably twunks), but complain when the young’uns race for the next Pop-pop. I, by no means overhill in any sense, get overlooked. Interesting, since I can give the stability they crave - and give them cardiac arrest in bed. But I no longer look like I just left high school. And yes, this is from table for Bitter Party of One.
I love this article. I accidentally typed “I live this article”. But it wasn’t an accident. I went back and got my Masters at 58 and started a new career at 63. A career that took a huge learning curve that lasted a year. People ask when I’m retiring cause they know I’m turning 65 this year. Not gonna happen right now. Maybe 70. Maybe not. I’m still here enjoying what I do. I see myself changing what I do, yet again, in a few years. Maybe sooner. People ask me why I don’t want to retire. This article gave me the answer I already knew.
You didn’t “live” it by accident. You told the truth faster than your fingers could keep up 😄
And that restless “maybe 70, maybe not” energy is the point: when you’ve already rebuilt yourself once (or three times), retirement stops being a finish line and becomes just another optional storyline.
This piece touched my 60-year-old heart, Gino. It is much appreciated.
To be honest, when I was in my 20s and 30s, I thought my "gay" life would be over after 50, and I was resigned to fade away. I've been shocked to find two things happening at once: 1) I'm in demand socially, and 2) "invisibility can feel like relief."
I'm guessing the younger guys can feel the strength of what you're describing, and the older ones know we are brothers who have walked a path impossible to describe to those who didn't live it.
In 1986, the San Diego Health Department told me my HIV+ test meant I had less than 18 months to live. People are often shocked when I tell them that episode was an excellent life lesson I am now grateful for. I've found it difficult to express why I feel that way. Now I can just send them a link to this article.
Keep writing, Gino. You're edifying many gay men's lives. xoxo
That 1986 “18 months” sentence would rewire anyone’s nervous system, so it makes sense you carry a different gravity now. Your gratitude isn’t for what happened but for the clarity it forced: what matters, what doesn’t, and how little time we should waste performing.
I’m really glad this gave you language you can hand people without having to explain the whole impossible history. x
Oh boy… every once in awhile, this topic comes up and it brings up bittersweet feelings for me.
I'm 70. I've outlived two long-term partners. I now find myself living in Palm Springs alone with 2 cats. Due to various chronic illnesses and mobility issues I haven't had physical contact much less sexual contact with another man, other than my doctor, in over 10 or more years. My right (dominant) hand is no longer functional, so I use my left hand for “everything” even that, yes, that!
So, how do I handle aging as a gay man?
I go about my daily routine as best I can. I do what I can. I can still drive, a little… I have a caregiver to help me with chores, but I can bathe and dress myself, I feed my kitties and myself. I try to keep up with the horrible current events of the day.
I interact with my neighbors a little. I keep in touch with some friends via text. And recently, I started writing my autobiography.
I do my best to keep my mind active and engaged. It's not easy to make friends here in Palm Springs. Most gay men here are looking for hookups or are in relationships and a single man is seen as a threat. Most single men I've met here, that are my, are “broken” and I don't have the capacity or ability or strength to deal with that.
It's a sad reality, but I've learned in the 5 years I've lived here, I'm okay just to be alone. The climate is great! I've got everything I need. I'm comfortable. It would be nice to have someone to cuddle with, but my kitties help. I'm happy.
What you’re describing is grief plus adaptation, and that is not a small thing to carry for a decade, Raul. Writing your autobiography is a seriously smart move because it turns “I’m alone” into “I’m witnessed,” even if the witness is future you, or a reader you’ll never meet. Also, anyone who treats a single man as a threat is telling on themselves, not on you.
“No more mental checklist of what he was supposed to want, how he was supposed to act, which role he was meant to play.” I think I do this to myself, I’ve also passed judgment on others, losing friends in the process.
The repair starts with catching it in real time and swapping judgment for curiosity, even silently. Many people lose friends because of the tone of self-protection.
Many people lose friends because of the tone of self-protection. I am not quite sure what the tone of self-protection is. Is it me trying to act or be a person I am not?
By “tone of self-protection,” I mean the armour that leaks into how we relate, even when we think we’re being reasonable.
It can look like:
- scanning for what’s wrong with people so you don’t get disappointed later
- leading with judgment, advice, or correction instead of contact
- staying slightly above it all (irony, distance, “I’m fine”)
- disappearing first, so you can’t be left
- holding people to an invisible standard, then feeling let down when they fail it
Sometimes it is trying to be a person you’re not (performing “together,” “easygoing,” “low maintenance”). But often it’s simpler: it’s you trying not to need anyone too much, because needing has cost you before.
A useful litmus test: after an interaction, do you feel more connected, or more braced?
The shift is small: “What am I protecting myself from right now?” followed by “What would one notch more openness look like, without abandoning myself?” x
I found this comment especially interesting: "David was 71 when he told me he’d started having the best sex of his life. Not because bodies worked better at 71 (they don’t), but because he’d stopped performing." People are often surprised that those of us in late life still enjoy sex. And perhaps somewhat by necessity -- our bodies change -- we engage in slow sex, intimate sex. Not slam-bam sex, not didn't-catch-your-name sex. Sexual satisfaction remains high if and when we begin to understand, accept, and adapt that some things have changed. But that isn't all bad.
Yes. Sex gets better when it starts being a conversation between two bodies that actually live in the real world. Slower can mean more sensation, more honesty, more choice, and fewer ego games about stamina or novelty. Aging forces adaptation, but adaptation is basically the doorway to intimacy if you let it be. Thanks for your perspective :)
This piece resonated. I’m 66. I am enjoying finding my voice, every single day. I’m getting good at it too. Lol. I really like the framing here of our life experiences, especially learning how to not simply survive but thrive can make all the difference.
Finding your voice at 66 is such a power move 😄 And yes, survival teaches skills, but thriving is what happens when you stop apologizing for wanting more than “fine.” Keep going, Michael, because the confidence gets addictive in the best way.
Thank you, so much @ginoc. Appreciate the encouragement and the ongoing inspiration from your pieces. Much gratitude.
This is exactly why I prefer to be with men older than me.
People my age are too obsessed with getting around, having fun, always performing. I wanna talk about what broke you, how you got back up, how we can help each other be better even when we don't want to be.
The sad thing is I can't find any gay men like that where I am.
If I make it to 60 with half the drive of the men you talked about in this letter, hopefully find a good man to be with before that, I'd count myself the luckiest guy in the world.
You’re not wrong about the vibe shift, but I’d be careful with the story that depth only lives in older bodies. Plenty of older men are still collecting distractions like Pokémon, and plenty of guys your age are starving for exactly what you’re describing.
Also, don’t wait until 60 to earn that life. Start now. Become the man who can hold that kind of intimacy, then go where men like that spend their time. The “luckiest guy” part tends to follow the boring stuff: showing up, staying open, and not dating people who treat connection like a side quest.
You are right to flag that story because I'm prone to it.
A part of me still believes that "with age comes wisdom" and that if I ever choose to start dating again, I should go for older men.
I have a request. Could you maybe address this in one of your future posts?
And yes, I'll try my best to keep growing into someone who can hold real intimacy.
Thanks, G.
Beautiful piece. I look back at my life from 63, I traipzed across Canada for a youth volunteer program at 18, traveled the world several times, changed cities three times, three careers. Came out at 23. Found the love of my life at 30. When I turned 60 and friend said to me I can't wait to see what you do next. Well, I started intense recovery, and been rebuilding my company while living out of the office. Who knows what is next. This reading came when I was feeling down; What is next??? I can't wait to see.
Adam, you’ve already proven “next” is something you’re good at 😄 Recovery plus rebuilding plus living out of the office is a pivot with teeth. Keep following the thread that feels alive and the next chapter tends to reveal itself once you’re in motion.
Oh boy. Someone who tells it how it is. People confuse physical and mental aging. Inside our minds, we are still young, still exploring, still finding things out, experimenting. Not everyone. But certainly I am. My body is still fit, slim and active. And I have learnt the joys of being a bottom. After most of my life as a top. With men and women. What scared me now intrigues me. I don’t worry about what people think. Yes, I get come-ons from younger guys, who really only want money (certainly on line!). I know this. They will grow old too, some of them… older age is when you accept who you are, without fear or recrimination. And hopefully with supportive friends and partners…
Thank you for such an insightful article.
You’re naming the best part of aging:, Peter: the fear shelf collapses, and suddenly curiosity has room to move in. 🙂
That late-life sexual flexibility is what happens when you stop performing and start listening to your actual body.
And yes, the bargain-hunters will always exist online, but it sounds like you’ve upgraded to something rarer: self-acceptance that doesn’t need an audience.
I’m conflicted. I just hit my 50’s and since my 40’s, I’ve found myself in no man’s land. Older men generally seem to try to run after some ghost of their youth - in the form of very young twinks (preferably twunks), but complain when the young’uns race for the next Pop-pop. I, by no means overhill in any sense, get overlooked. Interesting, since I can give the stability they crave - and give them cardiac arrest in bed. But I no longer look like I just left high school. And yes, this is from table for Bitter Party of One.
Your 50s are the cursed sweet spot: too old to be fetishised as “fresh,” too young to be treated as “safe retirement plan.” 😅
The ghost-chasing crowd is basically outsourcing self-worth to a body type and then acting shocked when the transaction expires.
You’re not in no man’s land, Jay. Instead, you’re in the thin slice where the options get real, which is why it can feel like a lonely table.
I love this article. I accidentally typed “I live this article”. But it wasn’t an accident. I went back and got my Masters at 58 and started a new career at 63. A career that took a huge learning curve that lasted a year. People ask when I’m retiring cause they know I’m turning 65 this year. Not gonna happen right now. Maybe 70. Maybe not. I’m still here enjoying what I do. I see myself changing what I do, yet again, in a few years. Maybe sooner. People ask me why I don’t want to retire. This article gave me the answer I already knew.
You didn’t “live” it by accident. You told the truth faster than your fingers could keep up 😄
And that restless “maybe 70, maybe not” energy is the point: when you’ve already rebuilt yourself once (or three times), retirement stops being a finish line and becomes just another optional storyline.
This piece touched my 60-year-old heart, Gino. It is much appreciated.
To be honest, when I was in my 20s and 30s, I thought my "gay" life would be over after 50, and I was resigned to fade away. I've been shocked to find two things happening at once: 1) I'm in demand socially, and 2) "invisibility can feel like relief."
I'm guessing the younger guys can feel the strength of what you're describing, and the older ones know we are brothers who have walked a path impossible to describe to those who didn't live it.
In 1986, the San Diego Health Department told me my HIV+ test meant I had less than 18 months to live. People are often shocked when I tell them that episode was an excellent life lesson I am now grateful for. I've found it difficult to express why I feel that way. Now I can just send them a link to this article.
Keep writing, Gino. You're edifying many gay men's lives. xoxo
That 1986 “18 months” sentence would rewire anyone’s nervous system, so it makes sense you carry a different gravity now. Your gratitude isn’t for what happened but for the clarity it forced: what matters, what doesn’t, and how little time we should waste performing.
I’m really glad this gave you language you can hand people without having to explain the whole impossible history. x
Oh boy… every once in awhile, this topic comes up and it brings up bittersweet feelings for me.
I'm 70. I've outlived two long-term partners. I now find myself living in Palm Springs alone with 2 cats. Due to various chronic illnesses and mobility issues I haven't had physical contact much less sexual contact with another man, other than my doctor, in over 10 or more years. My right (dominant) hand is no longer functional, so I use my left hand for “everything” even that, yes, that!
So, how do I handle aging as a gay man?
I go about my daily routine as best I can. I do what I can. I can still drive, a little… I have a caregiver to help me with chores, but I can bathe and dress myself, I feed my kitties and myself. I try to keep up with the horrible current events of the day.
I interact with my neighbors a little. I keep in touch with some friends via text. And recently, I started writing my autobiography.
I do my best to keep my mind active and engaged. It's not easy to make friends here in Palm Springs. Most gay men here are looking for hookups or are in relationships and a single man is seen as a threat. Most single men I've met here, that are my, are “broken” and I don't have the capacity or ability or strength to deal with that.
It's a sad reality, but I've learned in the 5 years I've lived here, I'm okay just to be alone. The climate is great! I've got everything I need. I'm comfortable. It would be nice to have someone to cuddle with, but my kitties help. I'm happy.
What you’re describing is grief plus adaptation, and that is not a small thing to carry for a decade, Raul. Writing your autobiography is a seriously smart move because it turns “I’m alone” into “I’m witnessed,” even if the witness is future you, or a reader you’ll never meet. Also, anyone who treats a single man as a threat is telling on themselves, not on you.
“No more mental checklist of what he was supposed to want, how he was supposed to act, which role he was meant to play.” I think I do this to myself, I’ve also passed judgment on others, losing friends in the process.
The repair starts with catching it in real time and swapping judgment for curiosity, even silently. Many people lose friends because of the tone of self-protection.
Many people lose friends because of the tone of self-protection. I am not quite sure what the tone of self-protection is. Is it me trying to act or be a person I am not?
Patrick, good question.
By “tone of self-protection,” I mean the armour that leaks into how we relate, even when we think we’re being reasonable.
It can look like:
- scanning for what’s wrong with people so you don’t get disappointed later
- leading with judgment, advice, or correction instead of contact
- staying slightly above it all (irony, distance, “I’m fine”)
- disappearing first, so you can’t be left
- holding people to an invisible standard, then feeling let down when they fail it
Sometimes it is trying to be a person you’re not (performing “together,” “easygoing,” “low maintenance”). But often it’s simpler: it’s you trying not to need anyone too much, because needing has cost you before.
A useful litmus test: after an interaction, do you feel more connected, or more braced?
The shift is small: “What am I protecting myself from right now?” followed by “What would one notch more openness look like, without abandoning myself?” x
Thanks Gino, a lot to think about.