Of MILFs, DILFs and FILFs. Oh my!

The other night, I was out at a dinner for two. Adult conversations, laughs and good wine made for the beginning of a great evening. Sometime into our lively conversation, she looked at me and said with a naughty smirk, “You’re a DILF.” I looked at her with a blank stare and a thousand thoughts went through my mind. The first one was, “WTF is a DILF?” Given our line of conversation, it sounded appropriately naughty. My dumbfounded look must have lasted long enough to give away my purity. She teased me and asked if I knew what it meant. I didn’t want to be presumptuous. Then she said, “Not only are you a DILF, you are also a FILF!” I’m not sure that’s much better! And I thought the evening was going well! Then a light bulb turned on. I chuckled and replied, “That’s the nicest thing anybody has said to me in a while!”

My current state of life as a half-time, custody sharing dad is exactly where I want to be right now. I have my health. I have a beautiful 7 year-old daughter and her health. I enjoy my work. I have a handful of good friends which easily regroups even after long periods without contact. And unlike my married dad friends, I have a lot of time on my hands. Some of that time I spent with DINKs (although I have few of these friends left) and SINKs (even fewer). My married guy friends are all envious. My single-again guy friends are always trying to set me up. Some are genuine, some are pranks. If the evening falls through, I call them up for a drink. Life is great.

I do miss the good ol’ days when things were good. But when things were bad, it got so bad that no amount of good days can make up for it.

But it wasn’t always like this. My wife and I were married for a total of 8 years, but after the birth of our daughter, things changed dramatically. Like all parents, we were constantly tired and couple-time diminished – for us, it dropped to zero. Our communications became perfunctory, trivial and un-engaging. Conflict and disagreements between us were left to pile up in the corner – too tired to deal with that day and unresolved for another. My wife co-slept with our daughter and this meant I slept alone in our room. We lived like this for more than 2 years.  Feeling like roommates, each night I would lie awake in bed worrying about our marriage, money and our daughter. We even went to 3 counselors; she walked out on all of them but I stayed. It was ironic that with both sides of the extended families and good friends in close proximity, I never felt lonelier. I realized later that I was powerless to fix anything, nor was it my job. I wish my wife knew that my compliments paid to her were genuine and not attempts to distract or minimize our problems. I wished for a lot of things. And lastly, I wished for my failed marriage to end because I can neither be the man I wanted to be nor the father I needed to be. We divorced and I vowed never to trap anyone again, especially myself. As of this writing, that was five years ago.

A lot has happened since. As a new dad, I think I stopped caring about vanity. I’ve been puked on and had poo sprayed onto my suits. My neck tie was used as my kid’s throw-up wipe. And I even once went to work with mismatched socks by accident. Some days, the fact that I can get out of bed and wander over to the coffee shop unshaven, bed-headed with a sleeping baby in a Bjorn was a huge accomplishment! My vanity went out the door along with the old piles of used diapers. And yet, I was totally fine with it. Who was going to judge a scruffy looking man slumped over in a park bench singing his daughter to sleep? I’ve become comfortable in my own skin and my role of fatherhood. If I have to teach a little girl to be comfortable with her self in her body, I can’t be too hung up on going out in public in mismatched socks. I actually became very happy to be out of a marriage turned bad. When I do go out, I clean up well. I’m still handsome and the fact that someone wanted to DILF me makes me feel attractive. I’m not out chasing skirts looking eager and desperate. I was totally okay asking for a table for one at a restaurant anyway, so a table for two is even nicer. It makes me feel grown up again.

I do miss the good ol’ days when things were good. But when things were bad, it got so bad that no amount of good days can make up for it. I tell my daughter of happy stories about the three of us. There were so few and she relishes every single word. But when she’s at her mom’s, I keep busy. I have my work, my friends, and I have dinner with my mom once a week. I also seek out and enjoy adult company.  To keep the gig going for as long as I can, I play by a few guidelines. As a man in my 40s, I don’t go near women in their 20s. Early 20s would be fun, but let’s face it, I’m an old man to her and she sees me as a sugar daddy; it can’t end well. Women in the late 20s generally have a goal in their mind. And theirs doesn’t align with mine. The same is said for women in their early 30s; their goal is even more central. I have to be honest; I’m not interested in having any more children. At one point, I wanted more. But since the divorce, and now with a daughter who is 7, my clock is also ticking, too. It’s just going to be too difficult to go through the diaper stage again and the sibling age gap is undeniable. This brings me to women who are in their late 30s: divorced and have their own children. Or women in their 40s with or without children. There’s a certain sense of calm when partners aren’t looking to get something from one another and are simply content with sharing with one another. It’s that sentiment I want to capture forever. I would never want to toy with someone’s emotion and lead them down a door that just can’t be opened. It’s not fair and life’s too short. It’s good to be a DILF!