Photograph by Dan Peebles
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Hello, Old Love
By Sarah Mahoney, September & October 2004
Thanks to the Internet, finding a lost sweetheart has never been easier. But at what cost?
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After Diane Messer's divorce, she couldn't shake the idea of calling
Ken, her high-school boyfriend. It wasn't easy to find him. First, his name
is Smith. Second, they'd known each other in Frankfurt, Germany, in the
1970s, and tracking anyone down from that transient military world was nearly
impossible. Besides, she says, "I'd heard that he was married and
living in California—could he have picked a bigger state?" From her
home in Connecticut, she found listings for hundreds of Kenneth Michael Smiths.
Finally, using a website called military-brats.com, she was able to send
him an e-mail. He called her immediately.
Turns out he was also divorced; like her, he had two sons. The two began an
electronic courtship in November 2000; before long, they were chatting by phone
every week. In January, they got up the nerve for a face-to-face visit. She
flew in on a Friday, Ken proposed on Saturday. By June 2001, the two were
married. Now 46, they live in Cottonwood, California. "Even back in high
school, it was more than puppy love," she says. "We were so
close—there was an intensity to us then, but also an innocence." On
one level, she's still stunned to have had a second shot at first love. On
another, it all makes perfect sense: "It's fate. We were meant to be
together."
Thanks to the Internet, storybook romances like Ken and Diane's are
becoming familiar tales. Experts call this trend "rekindling." While
couples have always reconnected—by chance, the phone book, or detective
work—the Internet has turned finding old flames into big business. But
there's a definite downside. Many of those reaching out to an old love are
married, as are many on the receiving end, and the Internet provides plenty of
opportunities for destructive affairs.
Classmates.com, with 38 million
users, is one of the most-trafficked sites on the Web, according to
Nielsen//NetResearch. In a recent survey, 39 percent of its members—14.7
million people—said they had used the Internet to look up an old love.
Another popular site, reunion.com, has 22
million members. Then there are alumni sites for individual schools. Nancy
Kalish, a professor of psychology at California State University in Sacramento
and author of Lost & Found Lovers: Facts and Fantasies of Rekindled
Romances (Morrow, 1997), estimates that about 10 percent of people have
tried to reunite with a lost love. And a New York Times poll found that
59 percent of Americans still think about their teenage sweetheart.
Another force driving the rekindling trend is divorce. Andrea Baker,
associate professor of sociology at Ohio University in Athens, Ohio, studies
how couples interact online. After divorce, "people want new partners, but
would rather take up with someone they know than a stranger," she
says.
A good example is Donna Hanover, 54, journalist and ex-wife of former New
York mayor Rudolph Giuliani. Hanover recently wed her high-school and college
beau, and is writing a book about rekindlers called My Boyfriend's
Back, due in January from Hudson Street Press. For her and husband Ed
Oster, the trigger for reconnecting was a looming 30th college reunion. Hanover
says she knew she and Oster were meant to be together within a few weeks:
"You already have a history—I knew he was a person who kept his
word."
Significant birthdays—especially a 50th—can also make us fire up
the search engines. "Major life events all can play a role in this kind of
longing," says Kate Wachs, Ph.D., a psychologist in Chicago and author of
Dr. Kate's Love Secrets (Paper Chase Press, 2000). "Divorce,
death of a spouse, and, perhaps most of all, children leaving home—all
these things can make you feel like you need to get pieces of your past
back."
Rooting through old address books is a healthy aspect of aging. "In our
20s, 30s, and 40s, we're too busy building a life to spend much time
reminiscing," says Marcella Bakur Weiner, Ph.D., a psychologist in
Brooklyn, New York, and coauthor of The Love Compatibility Book (New
World Library, 2003). "But as we move toward our 50s and 60s, we begin to
lose people around us—parents, even friends. So we start to look
back."
Not all such reflection is conscious. Some reunions happen on a whim, or in
Dawn Weeks's case, a dream. Unmarried, she liked her life in New York just
fine. But one night, Dawn, now 46, dreamt about Mike, an old boyfriend she
hadn't seen in more than two decades. "I can't explain it,"
she says, "but I woke up and felt like I just had to call him." She
tracked down his office number in Annapolis, Maryland, and hung up in a panic
when the receptionist answered. The next day, she managed to leave a message.
"I wish I had a video of my face when I got it," laughs Mike Weeks,
49. "I just sort of froze, and then it was like a dream come true. I had
been divorced for a few years, but hadn't really been dating. Dawn had
always been the love of my life." They married six months later.
Some pairs of lost lovers reunite despite making every effort to stay apart.
Curtis and Dorothy Blanchard first fell in love at Westinghouse High School on
Chicago's West Side. On graduation day in 1975, Dorothy watched him walk
across the stage, thinking, "He's walking out of my life."
And he did: he joined the Marines; she moved to Hawaii and married someone
else. But soon, both were back in Chicago, both in difficult marriages. At
their class's 20th reunion, Dorothy gave her number to a friend to pass on
to Curtis. "We'd talk on the phone about what we were going through
every four months or so," says Curtis, 47, "but we'd support each
other. Each of us wanted the other to do well in the marriage, and we knew it
would be wrong to see each other." Then times got really rough:
Curtis's wife died, and Dorothy, 48, divorced. Before long, they got back
together. "We are still on our honeymoon, four years later," Curtis
says, "and we know how blessed we are. How many people find someone so
wonderful even once in his or her life?"
'The minute I said "Hello," he knew exactly who it was, even
though it had been decades. That's what I call a connection.'
Of course, there's no way of gauging how many of those couples who
reunite actually make it to the altar. For the ones who do, the upside is
obvious. These "second chance" couples often experience a profound
level of closeness. How close? One Pennsylvania woman called her high-school
love at 52, after finding a listing for him in Milwaukee. "The minute I
said 'Hello,' he knew exactly who it was, even though it had been 30
years," she says. "That's what I call a connection."
That bond can lead to uncommonly sturdy marriages: after studying 1,001 such
couples, Kalish found that 78 percent who reunited after at least five years of
separation were together at the time of her survey, many after 20, 30, or even
40 years of marriage. (By contrast, many experts put the divorce rate for
second marriages at around 60 percent.)
Experts aren't sure why these couples seem so happy. One theory, says
psychologist Linda Waud, Psy.D., of Mountain View, California, is neurological:
Waud studied three couples who had formed an intense bond between the ages of
15 and 17. She gauged the strength of their connections to each other and the
intensity of their yearning while they were apart. Based on her findings, Waud
speculates that, in the same way many creatures "imprint," or form an
indelible bond with a caregiver, these young Romeos and Juliets may have
actually rewired their neurological systems to form a permanent bond.
"There is this strong sense that they have to reconnect with the other
person before they die," Waud says. (Waud, 63, married her high-school
sweetheart after their 35th reunion.)
This connection sometimes exists even for couples whose relationship the
first time around was less than idyllic. Jeff and Terri Lindblad, both 51,
dated at Peary High School in Rockville, Maryland, "until he dumped me for
some blond," she laughs. She got over it and married soon after their 1971
graduation, but her life wasn't easy: her husband died in 1978; a second
marriage ended in divorce; she lost her mother to breast cancer. A friend put
her in touch with Jeff just as he was seeing his wife through terminal breast
cancer.
"Those early months after my wife died were so hard—I was so full
of grieving," Jeff says. Eventually, though, he was ready to reconnect
with Terri. They e-mailed for a month before speaking by phone. "When we
finally did talk, we would just giggle and laugh and scream," he recalls.
And when they met, the first hug told them all they needed to know; they
married in 2000. "Sometimes, we feel like my late wife and Terri's
late mother conspired to get us together," he says. "We really had
this sense that this was beyond our control, and that this marriage is our
destiny."
But if the rekindling phenomenon makes for many happy endings, it also has
an ugly side. Many revived relationships begin as extramarital affairs. Kalish
says that 80 percent of the more than 1,000 rekindlers she has interviewed
since the year 2000 became involved with their lost loves while still married.
Even people who would never cheat with someone new can find the temptation of
an old beau difficult to resist. "It's a cheating loophole,"
admits one woman who toyed with the idea after an e-mail from the blue.
"It's as if he was covered by some kind of grandfathered adultery
clause."
You might think that these reunion-affairs happen only in shaky marriages,
but that's not always the case: in fact, half of the people in Kalish's
research described themselves as happily married when they reconnected with a
lost love. "These are good people who weren't looking for
affairs," Kalish says.
'I know he still has feelings for her,' says one woman whose husband
tried to reunite with an old flame. 'The pain is so great I can barely
breathe.'
Try selling that "good people" line to someone who got dumped by
one. Mary Lou, 59, lost her husband of 28 years when he rediscovered the girl
he loved in eighth grade. "One day, he just came home and announced that
she was his best friend, and off he went," she says. "He had always
wanted me to stay home with the kids. When he left, he was making $100,000, and
I was in my late 40s with no job experience." She eventually worked three
jobs to make ends meet, and that wasn't the worst of it. It took years of
therapy to restore her shattered confidence. "There were days when I
couldn't get off the floor," she says.
Rekindlers acknowledge that their happiness can cause collateral damage.
"It was really hard on our spouses," concedes Kathy Wilson, 52, now
married to Mike Wilson, 54, her high-school love. (The couple live about an
hour outside Houston, on a spread they've christened The Second Chance
Ranch.) "Both of our spouses thought we were going through some kind of
midlife crisis, and that we'd get over it."
The two met at high school in Seville, Spain. After breaking up, they both
married and settled in California, where they would check in with each other
from time to time. "Mike came to town for a business trip," she
recalls. "I went to see him at his hotel, and he gave me this hug that, to
this day, I just can't describe. It was a connection I just didn't have
with anybody else," she says. They married in 1999. If it weren't for
Mike, she says, "I would never have left my husband. I had no reason
to."
Not every affair leads to marriage; indeed, most don't. According to the
late infidelity researcher Shirley Glass, Ph.D., when one spouse leaves for
another person, the chance of failure for the new relationship is about 75
percent.
One day while looking up a phone number on her computer, Carol, a college
administrator in her mid-50s, typed her college sweetheart's name on a
whim. "I didn't even know I'd been thinking of him," she
says. Within weeks, they'd rendezvoused; within months, she had left her
husband of 32 years and bought a condo in the city where her old flame lived.
Immediately, the relationship deteriorated. "All of a sudden, he was too
busy. The flowers stopped, the candy stopped," she says. "We tried to
make it work for a few years, but it eventually ended in a very ugly way. I was
foolish—I saw what I wanted to see." While Carol admits having her
dreams shattered has been humbling, she sees an upside: "I needed to try
it," she says. She and her husband never divorced, and they are working
toward reconciliation. "Obviously, we both know we have a lot of work to
do to overcome this," she says. "But we are inching in the right
direction."
Repairing trust in a marriage is hard enough after a fling. But bouncing
back from a lost-love affair is far more complicated. "My husband has
begged me to stay," a victim of rekindling wrote on an Internet message
board, after her spouse's attempt to reconnect with a lost love failed.
"I know that he still has feelings for her," she says. "The pain
is so great sometimes I can barely breathe." Many couples are unable to
rebuild the relationship without professional help. The solution is as
individual as the two people involved, but a good marriage counselor should be
able to help find it. One starting point is the therapist locator on the
website of the American Association
of Marriage and Family Therapy. Family doctors and clergy can also give
referrals.
Knowing what we do about this growing trend, how worried should married
folks be that their spouse is going to leave them for their first love? The
answer: not very. For most people, a blast from the past won't result in
either a divorce or a fairy-tale wedding. "I traded a few e-mails with my
old boyfriend," one divorced woman admits. "Not only was he married,
but he turned out to still have the same traits I always hated. In just two
e-mails, he managed to get in little digs about where I live and the career I
had chosen. It was nice to remember why I broke up with the jerk."
If an old flame has contacted your spouse, experts say your best bet is to
simply relax: the more paranoid you seem, advises Kate Wachs, Ph.D., a
psychologist in Chicago, the more difficult it becomes for your spouse to
broach the subject.
And if you're the one thinking of making contact, it may be hard to
resist the temptation of jotting a quick e-mail message. But think long and
hard before you click Send. You might be better off living with your
high-school fantasy than coming face to face with the present-day reality.
"Most of the time," says David Greenfield, Ph.D., a psychologist in
Connecticut, "if we were meant to be in each other's lives, we would
be. In most cases, these relationships are over for a good reason."
Sarah Mahoney lives in Durham, Maine, and is a contributing editor at
More and Parents. Her story on dating after 50 appeared
in the November-December 2003 issue.
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