Embracing the challenges and surprises of dating later in life
Dating over 60 is a completely different experience, novelist Deborah Moggach reflects — but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying. In fact, as she discovered recently, it might even be a little exciting.
The Realities of Later-Life Dating
I realised how much the years were passing when an internet date of mine cancelled because one of his teeth had fallen out. If I’d been in his shoes, I would’ve kept quiet about it. When you’re older and looking for love, there’s an unspoken rule: present yourself as hale and hearty. No one wants to meet a walking catalogue of ailments — save that for marriage, when you’ve grown old together and shared life’s ups and downs.
Meeting someone new at our age is a bit of a shock. People look so ancient — or so we think. But then, we look in the mirror and realise they’re probably thinking the same about us. So we try to cover up the signs. If you limp, don’t limp too noticeably. If you’ve got bruises from blood tests, keep your sleeves down. Health problems are boring, and no one wants boring on a first date.
The Complexity of Online Dating After 65
Online dating strips away the natural build-up of getting to know someone. You meet as strangers, which is exciting in your twenties but can feel disorientating in your seventies. Every word, every sentence from the other person carries weight — clues to who they really are. And there’s so much baggage to uncover: life stories, joys, sorrows, past heartbreaks — both theirs and your own. It’s exhausting just thinking about it.
Many women my age have simply given up. They lead independent, fulfilling lives and are content not to dive into the treacherous jungle of dating. Besides, the odds are not exactly in our favour. Many of the good men have either found younger partners or grown set in their ways. Even the notorious adulterers have settled back with their long-suffering wives, who’ll see them through their final days. And they wouldn’t dream of leaving home — not when the grandchildren, the last great loves of their lives, are waiting for them, not to mention the dog.
The Harsh Truths and the Lonely Reality
It’s a different story for men. No matter how bald, boring, or incapacitated, men almost always find a willing woman. Nursing others is hardwired into us. But often the woman will be younger, and the man risks a lonely life: one of my characters in my latest novel The Black Dress remarks, “It must be bloody lonely, to go to bed with somebody who hasn’t heard of Cliff Michelmore.” But the loneliness doesn’t deter them.
In the novel, the heroine — a woman of 70 recently dumped by her husband — concocts a plan to gatecrash strangers’ funerals to snag widowers before their friends can swoop in. It’s a fictional, humorous plot, but with a grain of truth about the fierce competition for good men at our age.
What We Really Want
Being on your own is tough. But what most of us want isn’t much — just simple companionship. As a friend put it: “I don’t want to do something with someone, I want to do nothing with someone.” Some want a travel companion or a theatre buddy, but are otherwise happy solo: “I’m too selfish to have anybody else around; I just want someone for special occasions and a bit of sex.”
I’ve been alone for three years, and a lot of it is wonderful. I leave parties when I want. I tell the same anecdotes without a sigh. I do what I want, when I want — even if that means eating cold tortellini for breakfast or going to bed at eight.
Envy and Hope
Still, I feel envious sometimes. I see couples — “grizzled” but holding hands while picking up their statins or loading their supermarket trolley for when the grandkids come to stay. I’m tired of being the lone passenger in the back seat while couples chat in front. I miss sharing the TV remote and groaning about politics together. I miss someone opening bottle tops, fixing computers, and seeing off rogue plumbers.
And honestly? Though I’m older, I don’t feel any wiser. I’m ready to have another go. What is there to lose? One advantage of age is we’re more forgiving. We can see the long view. If there’s no spark — a common complaint about online dating — maybe we can still give each other another chance.
Taking the Plunge: My NY Times Blind Date
That’s how I found myself saying yes to a NY Times Blind Date. At the very least, I’ll have a nice lunch and some amusing stories for friends and family — who probably nudged me into it. So why not give it a whirl? After all, as Irma Thomas sings: “Anyone who knows what love is would understand.”
In the end, dating over 75 may be different — slower, more cautious, a little more worn around the edges — but it’s not without hope, humor, and the chance of connection. And that’s worth saying yes to.
