I started this blog as a bit of therapy and to capture my experiences following the loss of my husband when I was 59. We’d planned a retirement, hadn’t been married for too many years and although I knew he would never make very old bones, he promised me 15 years……
We ended up having 4. It was devasting and there were a few secrets that came out after he died and I had no answers, no where to direct my frustration, disappointment, anger and a whole host of other extreme emotions. That said, I struggled most with the 4pm hour in the early days of widowhood. I’m a ‘WFH’ person and my day would finish and my usual routine of closing the door on my home office and going in to talk to him and chat about dinner, what to watch on the TV, all the mundane routines, but important connecting routines, were gone. I started drinking more to cope.
Over my previous single years, I’d worked hard at my career (to the cost of a personal life), was in a good financial position and fiercely independent. Just as well as I married the second time for love; my late husband had lost everything in his divorce, including his business and had to start again a couple of years before we met. Looking back, we were completely mismatched. Those around us, both sets of friends and family, all said he was ‘punching well above his weight’ but that didn’t stop him having an inappropriate relationship weeks before we married. I found out the extent of this the week after our wedding and pride prevented me from walking away. But I was devastated. I tend to give my all in relationships and I haven’t had one successful relationship where I felt that my relative low bar had ever been exceeded…..
Just for context, my ‘couples’ past had consisted of a very early failed marriage, an 11 year relationship which now I look back on was abusive, and a whole host of hook ups and an affair with a married man which lasted over 13 years. Not regularly meeting up as it wasn’t practically possible but always on the end of an email. More about that another time as it deserves a post on it’s own.
A year or so in to widowhood, I reduced my drinking and started a period of contentment on my own, which is where I felt I’d stay for the rest of my days. I was happy!
That was until my friend visited and suggested I try dating. I was 63, in the best physical shape of my life (having been overweight for my entire adult life) attractive, personable, independent. This came at a time when my contract work was drying up and I started to think of what retirement might look like and it scared me a little. I started a couple of volunteering opportunities in the hope that it would extend my friendship circles and it did to a degree but not of the same age bracket.
And so, the dating began. I’d internet dated years before without success but I’d hoped that at my age group, I’d have a different experience.
I spent a very pleasant summer in 2025 meeting suitably aged gentlemen for lunch. They were good company, attentive but as usual, the one I liked, didn’t really feel the same way.
I met a bloke that was a year younger, lorry driver, had our childhood locality in common and we seemed to get along. We met up, had a good date but I noticed that he had really bad teeth. Not looked after, some side ones missing although not obvious when talking only when he laughed. In all other respects, he was well presented, smart, classical dresser, clean shaven and obviously took an interest in his appearance, just not his dental health! I left the date, with a huge bunch of flowers, which embarrassed me as I’m not good accepting compliments, gifts etc with the thought that I’d not see him again. However, he started to call me regularly and as we got on so well, I agreed to dinner. We only met up three times but the contact in between was daily and chatting, not texting and I began to enjoy his presence in my life. However, I was still travelling for work so opportunity to meet was difficult. I did start to think that I liked him as a friend, and wasn’t romantically interested in him but figured he’d get fed up with my unavailability. I did deduce that he had been very badly hurt years before and he was emotionally scarred and these had made him insecure and angry at how his life had turned out.
One of the nice things about him was how easy he was to talk to and even share painful things as he was quite emotionally self aware but he’d not recovered from his own trauma and carried bitterness, which I don’t think I have. He eventually made a decision that we weren’t to be and in a fit of temper ended things, only to continue to chase me, even turning up at my door the next Christmas with a card explaining how he felt and that there hadn’t been a day gone by that he hadn’t thought of me. He wasn’t for me. At one point he asked me if I was ashamed of him and as much as I hate to admit it, I didn’t want my children to meet him.
The ending of this sent me on to another dating site and new but not altogether nice experiences…..
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