It's Summer Again: I think I'm looking for another lover

After four and a half years without sex, the story begins again.

A year ago, this Substack began with a stack of dollar store notebooks filled with the journal entries I wrote during what became my Summer of Men. They were pages from a time in my life when, after spending my almost sexless forties going on countless dates, trying to find love but missing something I couldn’t quite name, I decided to stop looking for “the one” and start looking for a lover.

Over the past year, I’ve shared those stories. Some were transcribed almost word for word, others were edited, and some were inspired by those same pages.

But every story is true.

And throughout all of it was Rilke, my little sister and my muse. Our unfiltered late-night conversations about men, sex, dating, and desire became part of the story. She appears again and again because, in many ways,

Summer of Men was never just about the men.

It was about the questions we ask each other, the things we admit out loud, and the things we’re still trying to understand about desire, aging, relationships, and what we really want.

Somewhere along the way, my search for sex became more complicated. I still wanted sex but, not surprisingly, I also started missing something else, a deeper connection. The kind that made me feel seen, not just desired.

And then life happened.

My father died at eighty-eight, with me beside him. Losing him was one of my deepest fears. In the midst of that grief, one of my greatest dreams came true: my memoir, STRIP, was published.

Grief has a way of rearranging everything. After my father died, dating went quiet. For the next four and a half years, I didn’t date or have sex. It took that long for something inside me to open again.

Now it’s summer, and I’ve downloaded the apps.

Do I think I’m going to find love there? Probably not. But I also know I don’t want another summer to pass without being touched.

Maybe I’m looking for another lover.

Maybe that’s enough for now.

Maybe I’ll surprise myself.

Whatever comes next, the story isn’t over.

Before we move into this next chapter, I just want to say thank you.

Thank you to everyone who has read, shared, commented, replied, and followed along as I shared this unexpected year of stories. Thank you for trusting me with your own stories, for sharing your questions and thoughts about sex, desire, aging, and relationships.

I never imagined that a stack of dollar store notebooks would become this.

I’m so grateful you’re here for whatever comes next.

Welcome to the next chapter of Summer of Men.