It’s that time of year again – red dresses in shop windows, restaurants promoting special meal deals, hotels offering private dinners by the beach at eye-watering prices and cheesy songs playing on the radio in the run-up to what is alleged to be the “most romantic day of the year”. But with all this pressure, is it really?
Most people dismiss Valentine’s Day as yet another capitalist holiday, but there’s nothing like big red hearts everywhere to remind you that you’re single.
Even though it was never an occasion I celebrated in the past, I did appreciate big romantic gestures, from candle-lit dinners to expensive presents.
Now that I am in my forties, however, I’ve realised my idea of love and partnership has changed in recent years.
It is no longer about wanting to feel butterflies or be swept off my feet, but a kind of quiet love that feels reassuring, safe, supportive and strong. One that is ready to weather the storms that come with getting older – niggling health issues, ageing parents, mid-life crises.
In my quest to find a partner, I realised my idea of attraction has also changed with age. A receding hairline or other physical traits I set store by in my 20s would no longer bother me if the person’s values matched mine, if we had shared interests and similar life goals. It might look to some like it’s “settling”, and while that may be true when it comes to looks, there are some non-negotiables I cannot look past.
Having been in a healthy long-term relationship for more than a decade, it’s often hard not to compare anyone new I meet to my previous partner. After all, there were some good aspects in my marriage that I cannot compromise on.
The biggest of them all is respect.
Respect for what I do for work and that it may sometimes entail late hours, as well as respect for space. I have become so used to living by myself that, going forward, I will still need pockets of me-time, from being alone at home or with my cats and taking on new hobbies, to spending a good number of hours working on my fitness and even travelling solo.
Respect for family is another non-negotiable, because as the heartbreaking reality of parents getting older sinks in, there may be a time when both emotional and physical support will be necessary to tide through tough times.
Of course, without the rose-tinted glasses of young love, practicality is also automatically factored in – especially in terms of finances and inheritance, or having difficult conversations when it comes to setting boundaries.
I am also more aware now of my own set of shortcomings. While self-improvement is entirely possible, it’s also harder for people to change after a certain age – and that goes both ways. It is far more realistic to see what you can work around rather than expecting, or trying, to change someone.
There is also bound to be some baggage in tow – be it children from a previous marriage, pre-existing health conditions or trauma from a relationship – so perhaps the trick lies in seeing what one can or cannot deal with going forward.
I am aware that choosing a partner in one’s forties is more about companionship and finding someone to navigate life with. Love may not be the same with someone who feels like a closest friend above all, but – as long as is comforting, safe and occasionally exciting – I’d happily settle.
