Reflections of a Middle-aged Newlywed

I can’t recall the exact moment I first stumbled upon that headline. All I know is that it struck fear in the hearts of single women everywhere. The Newsweek cover article claimed that single women over 40 were “more likely to be killed by a terrorist” than to get married. Although I was still in high school when that article came out, it made a lasting impression.

My lack of confidence and self-assurance was reflected in many of the guys I dated. A significant portion of my relationship history could be summed up in two words — dodging bullets. There was a period in which I was celibate and not dating for seven years as a result of dumping a mentally abusive boyfriend. After that, I dated on and off, sometimes investing in relationships that had no real future.

With my track record being the way it was, I spent the greater part of my 30s being very ambivalent about marriage and relationships in general. When I was already in my 40s, I became engaged to my live-in boyfriend. Being that I was so invested in the relationship, I did not put too much thought into the red flags which had been waving for some time. We had been together nearly nine years, engaged for two when my then fiance decided to go to his hometown in Florida for a job interview. Within less than two days of his arrival, he announced over the phone that he was going to stay there for good. Needless to say, it was a punch in the gut.

In retrospect, I can’t say this came as a shock. I would look down at my hand at the quarter-carat solitaire diamond and get this sinking feeling. It was official, we were engaged, and the ring was on my finger. But the voice in my head said, “no, I don’t think this is going to happen.”

At this point, I thought back to that Newsweek article and felt like a pitiful statistic. I was now single. I was now over 40. Is it time for Al-Qaeda to take me away now? What difference did it make? Once the initial shock wore off, I had completely checked out and couldn’t be finished soon enough. When he came back to the condo we shared, I waited eagerly for him to pack his things and leave. I just needed it to be over.

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With my soon-to-be ex-fiance gone, no job, and a condo I had already put on the market, there wasn’t much of anything keeping me there. That’s when I heard from my brother-in-law. I told him what happened. He was coming to DC for work that weekend and invited me to come and stay with him and my sister.

What turned out to be a brief visit turned into a permanent stay. I lived in my sister’s guest bedroom while I looked for whatever work I could find and tried to get my shit together. So now I was single, over 40, and living in the guest room, with most of my possessions in storage.

Within a year of living there, I had sold my condo, dated a little, and did plenty of drinking and bar hopping. No question I was in a much better place; however, I was doubtful. Maybe I would meet someone, maybe not. I just got tired of all the inner turmoil, most of which was based on standards set outside myself. So I made a decision. I chose to decide what’s most important to me. I created a vision, held to it, and then I simply let go.

Soon afterward, something unexpected happened. Richard had been by the house when I was living there, our interactions were limited to exchanging pleasantries to each other in passing. One day, I was heading to a mindfulness class and mentioned it to my brother-in-law in which this guy working on his truck incredulously said “meditation class?!?” I could hear the wheels spinning in his head, who knows what he was thinking..

Then things took an interesting turn. Richard was with my brother-in-law at a bar we regularly frequented. My sister and I met up with them and that was when things began to shift. We were sitting at an outside table when we got to talking.I couldn’t help but notice the sheer fun we were having, I didn’t know it was possible to enjoy another person’s company this much. The conversation flowed and he had an effortless charm that struck me immediately.

When he had to excuse himself for a moment, my sister pulled me aside to ask if I liked him and would go out with him to which I enthusiastically said “absolutely!” We were a few carafes of mimosas in the bag when she excitedly suggested to Richard that we, “go somewhere and get a … piece… of … food” and wanted to know what he thought about that. To which he answered, “I think I’m being set up!”

Later that night, we met at a nearby restaurant hosting a special date night dinner. It wasn’t too long after we sat down that we excused ourselves for a cigarette break, which swiftly turned into a back alley makeout session. It was like we were teenagers while at the same time, I was able to connect with him on a mental level in a way I never had before.

I moved in with him after dating for three months and, not long after, we got engaged. I was 47 years old at the time and couldn’t help but notice that this is the best relationship I had ever experienced. We were married a year after we started dating and are approaching our third wedding anniversary.

For so much of my life, I have struggled with anxiety, depression, and disappointment in my romantic life. But for the first time, I wake up, look around, and realize I am genuinely happy. It took me decades to arrive at this point but I have no regrets. Everything I experienced beforehand provided valuable lessons. All the heartache and past mistakes helped me become the best version of myself and to arrive at what has been the greatest blessing in my life.

When I think back to that cryptic headline and the fear it instilled, I am grateful to have let it all go. Each one of us has our road to travel; sometimes it doesn’t fit the narrative we believe we have to live up to. Not only is that okay, but it can also work out to be the best thing that ever happened to you. And in the end, we come to realize — love has no expiration date.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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