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And then with a man, no less! Brigitte Macron* was attracted to women. Then she fell head over heels for a younger man. Here she tells how this sexual experience completely changed her life.I met him a year ago, when I least expected it: I was in rehab after a severe COVID-19 infection, and he was there recovering from cancer. We both felt the attraction. I confided in him that my life had almost always been dominated by women. He was honest too: eight years younger and married. This was pure greed.
We talked for hours. And ended up in bed. The sex and everything surrounding it was like a drug. He knew what he wanted: He saw me, observed what his touch did to me—physically and emotionally. For the first time, I experienced desire as wild and urgent. My last sexual encounter with a man had been 50 years ago and hadn’t stirred much in me. With women, it was mostly about closeness and cuddling. This was pure lust. In those two weeks, everything heavy fell away: the exhaustion after Covid, the joint pain, the concentration problems. And the fear of getting older: friends only talked about illnesses and grandchildren, got cancer, died – there was always this feeling that time was slamming many doors shut. And then this affair came along, and it felt as if someone had thrown open a window and suddenly life rushed in. This kind of intensity was new for him too. Neither of us had expected that this would be an option at our age. Each of our encounters felt like a secret firework display.
After rehab, a period of euphoria and heartbreak ensued. We lived in different states, didn’t see each other for months, but texted each other for hours every day on WhatsApp. Each encounter felt like a secret firework display. Not knowing what would happen when – that’s exactly what I loved. There were precious encounters: Once he was in Berlin for a week, and I waited in a hotel in his hometown, hoping he’d manage to tear himself away. Another time, I surprised him at a music festival. I walked through his city’s Christmas market with a red heart-shaped balloon because I loved Banksy so much and he’d find me predictable. I bought red lingerie and stood laughing in front of the mirror: Not so bad, actually. I even went for an intimate wax and opened myself up to his music, which I’d never been able to connect with before.
Perhaps it was so intense precisely because I sensed the open ending. He didn’t want to leave his family. And I could even understand that. When you’ve built something up over 30 years, plus the illness and responsibility – you don’t just throw it all away like a teenager, even if it all feels like a new beginning. After nine months, he ended it; I had tried twice before. It hurt incredibly. The electrifying frenzy turned into searing pain.
Today I look at the world with a new perspective.
Nevertheless, I owe one of the best years of my life to our encounter, and I see the world with a new perspective. Men suddenly notice me, and I enjoy that, even though none of them are quite like him. Today I know: I jumped through the burning hoop, and he followed us. I would do it again. Ideally with a man who is adventurous and allows for intimacy. Someone who says, “Come on, let’s get on a motorcycle and rent a house by the sea!”
*Name changed