So it is not just San Francisco/The Bay Area, and it is not just Black or African women, but it is certainly beginning to sound like an epidemic, a crisis for many women, not just dating although dating factors in, but how to connect to and with men (heterosexual women), how to get regular loving.

I am not just talking quietly with my women friends, lamenting the shortage of men (a myth) or the short-comings of men (we women have our fair share too) or how horny and lonely we are after our exciting jobs that we all love, our nice homes, that we all have, our international travels that we all take (and those brief encounter get-your-groove-back-interludes that many of us enjoy), but the day-to-day emptiness that we often feel if we are not too tired from working ourselves blind to hide the persistent hollow feeling as each day we seem further from what we are seeking.

Why are so many adults not connecting, despite the daily increase of various websites to meet and date or how present we are in the world at all these social/work-related events? There seem to be many lonely people, who outside of their careers, have no meaningful, intimate relationship. Those of us over 30 or 40 or 50, those of us divorce, who have had our hearts broken, our feelings hurt, our property divided, those of us who have accomplished, or working on accomplishing, those of us who say we want love, connection, but year after year have not found it.  What's up? What is missing?   Where is the disconnect?

There is a silence happening around profound loneliness, about the need to be touched in a meaningful way, the hunger in our eyes and our hearts that perhaps contribute to us missing, running away from each other. 

I have had this conversation with many of my women friends all over the USA, and even in the Caribbean and Europe – how lonely and empty their lives feel despite material and other successes. They desire intimate passion, romance, a good man in their life --a longing I feel compelled to admit publicly.

Lat night I went to an event with a friend and we had a good time; I laughed a lot and loudly.  He is my buddy, nothing sexual. When I got home after 10: 30 p.m., I could not sleep.  I was horny and lonely (my celibacy is involuntary).  I wanted to be held.  If I had a little black book, I would have done a booty-call.  Unfortunately, I have taken a vow (soon to be broken) to only have “meaningful” relationships (I don’t think my body knows the difference).  I have bought into the contemporary myth of soul-mate and all this other spiritual idealism.  Yet, we are on a path as human beings, with real need and a place to hang our hat.   Included, is our basic need and instinct to be held --physical contact is real and often urgent, and far too many of us are not getting enough of these experiences regularly and this lack, I am certain, shows in a variety of negative ways, included as depression.

I am reassessing my own life, my expectations, the vibes I am giving off, the blind spots where I might be sending mix-signals, dreaming about the ideal rather than working to make something ideal, to allow a man his foibles and seek his generosity to be okay with mine.

I want intimate touching to be an integral and daily part of my life.