At 60, I’m Not Starting Over — I’m Starting From Experience

I never imagined that at 60 I would find myself thinking seriously about dating again. Not because I think 60 is too old for love — far from it — but because after almost ten years of being single, you get used to your own life. You learn to make your own decisions, solve your own problems and, eventually, you stop waiting for somebody else to come along and make your life complete.

I haven’t always been single. I was married when I was younger and had my three children. The marriage didn’t last very long, and later I had another long-term relationship. So I have loved before. I have shared my life with somebody before. I know the good parts of being in a relationship and I also know what happens when things don’t work out.

After my last relationship ended, I was single for almost ten years.

I did try dating. I went on dating apps and spoke to different people, but I have to say, some of the experiences were enough to make me wonder whether being single wasn’t actually the better option. Sometimes the conversations became inappropriate far too quickly. Sometimes people seemed to want something from you before they’d even taken the time to find out who you were. And sometimes I simply found myself thinking, What am I doing here?

Eventually I stopped.

Maybe I was looking in the wrong places. Maybe I was meeting the wrong crowd. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel like me, and I decided I would rather stay single than keep trying to force something that didn’t feel right.

And then, when I wasn’t really looking, a friend introduced me to somebody.

This One Feels Different

We’ve only been talking for about two and a half weeks, so I’m not about to announce that I’ve found the love of my life. At 60, I think I have enough experience to know that two and a half weeks is two and a half weeks.

But something about him feels different.

He hasn’t rushed me. He didn’t immediately ask for my telephone number. There have been no inappropriate comments and none of those conversations that make you wonder why somebody can’t simply get to know you first. He seems quite shy, actually, and we’ve just been talking.

And I like that.

After some of my experiences with dating, I had almost forgotten that two people could simply take their time and get to know one another.

There is something rather lovely about it.

I don’t know where it will go. I don’t think either of us does. But for the first time in a very long time, I’ve met somebody who has made me think that perhaps there is still room in my life for this.

And perhaps the biggest surprise is how much I have changed.

What I Wanted Then Isn’t What I Want Now

When I was younger, I had expectations of what a man should have and what he should be able to do. I probably had a picture in my head of the life that should come with the man.

At 60, I look at it very differently.

I’ve built my own life.

I’ve worked, raised my children, made mistakes, recovered from them, worried about money, made money, lost money, started again and built myself back up. I have my home, my family, my plans and the things I enjoy.

I’ve built my own little empire.

So I’m no longer looking at a man and asking, What can you give me?

I don’t need him to arrive and build my life for me. I’ve already built it.

And maybe that’s one of the greatest freedoms about falling in love later in life.

I can look at the person rather than his possessions.

His life is his life. Mine is mine. Of course there has to be some compatibility, and there are things that matter in any relationship, but I’m no longer looking for somebody because of what he owns or what he can provide.

What I want from him is actually much simpler.

I want him to love me.

Maybe This Is What I’ve Been Missing

My life isn’t empty.

That’s important.

I have my children. I have my grandson. I have family. I have things I’m working on and things I still want to achieve. I can travel. I can go out. I can stay home. I can make plans without asking anybody’s permission.

I don’t need somebody to give me a life.

But there is one little piece that has been missing.

A partner.

Somebody who isn’t one of my children or another member of my family. Somebody who chooses me simply because I’m me.

Someone I can laugh with over absolutely nothing. Someone to talk to at the end of the day. Someone to sit beside me when neither of us particularly has anything to say. Someone whose hand I can reach for. Someone to cuddle up to on the sofa. Someone who might look across the room at me and make me feel that, amongst everybody else in the world, I’m his person.

Those are such ordinary things.

Perhaps when we’re younger we don’t realise how extraordinary the ordinary things actually are.

When I was younger, I might have looked at everything surrounding the man. At 60, I’m much more interested in the man himself.

Is he kind?

Can I trust him?

Can we laugh?

Can we talk?

Can I be completely myself around him?

Does he make an effort?

And, most importantly, can we bring some happiness and peace into each other’s lives?

That’s what matters to me now.

I Don’t Want to Lose Myself Again

Being single for almost ten years has taught me something else. I’ve become very independent.

Maybe too independent sometimes.

I’ve become used to doing everything myself and not having to explain my decisions to anybody. So I don’t want a relationship where suddenly two people have to become one person and do absolutely everything together.

I still want my life.

And I want him to have his.

I don’t want to change everything about him to make him fit into the world I’ve created, and I don’t want to change everything about myself to fit into his.

Surely at our age we can meet somewhere in the middle.

I don’t need somebody in my pocket twenty-four hours a day. I just want to know that he’s there.

I’m Allowing Myself to See What Happens

Maybe nothing will come from this.

I have to be realistic.

It’s early days and we’re still getting to know each other. There may be things about him that drive me absolutely mad. I’m quite sure there will be things about me that do exactly the same to him.

But I’m enjoying getting to know somebody again.

I’m enjoying feeling something I haven’t felt for a long time.

And I think I’m finally at an age where I can allow something to develop without trying to force it into a particular shape.

I don’t need to know today where we’ll be in six months.

I don’t need promises after two weeks.

I don’t need somebody to sweep into my life and rescue me.

I just want something genuine.

If it grows into love, wonderful.

And if this man does become the person I share the next part of my life with, he won’t be meeting a woman waiting for somebody to come and complete her.

He’ll be meeting a woman who already has a life.

A woman who has loved, lost, raised children, made mistakes, survived disappointments, built things, started again and spent almost ten years learning how to stand perfectly well on her own.

I don’t need another person to make me whole.

But there is still space beside me.

And perhaps that’s the difference between falling in love when you’re young and opening your heart again at 60.

I’m not looking for somebody to give me everything.

I’m looking for somebody with whom I can share the ordinary things that, at this stage of life, have become the most precious things of all.

So no, at 60 I’m not starting over.

I’m starting from experience.