I'm Retired and Single, but I'm at Peace
I retired at 49, and I’m still single. But for the first time in my life, I’m at peace with it. I’m no longer worried that I’m running out of time.
For most of my life, I wished for love. I wanted that special guy to come along and fill what I believed was an empty place in my heart.
At the same time, I had a list of requirements for the man I wanted. I thought the list would help me find the right person, but it wasn’t nearly as helpful as I believed. Sometimes, it distracted me from the qualities that mattered most. Other times, I abandoned it out of desperation because I felt as though the clock was ticking.
Even so, I haven’t closed myself off to love and marriage. I’m simply no longer treating either as something that must happen before my life can be complete.
Wanting a Relationship Wasn’t the Problem. Believing I Needed One Was.
For pretty much my entire life, I wished for love. I wanted that special guy to come along and make my life better. But I was constantly driven by internalized pressure to reach certain milestones—to date, have a boyfriend, and eventually get married—rather than allowing appropriate relationships to develop naturally.
From a very young age, many of us—especially women—receive the message that we’re supposed to get married, start a family, buy a home with a white picket fence, and live happily ever after. We all know the image.
If we find the right person, marriage can be a great and beautiful thing. I’ve seen examples of truly happy couples who seem genuinely meant for each other, so I know that kind of partnership is possible.
But the pressure to find it can become damaging.
When we’re taught that marriage is something we’re supposed to achieve—and achieve within a certain amount of time—being single can begin to feel like failure. We may start making decisions based on fear and desperation instead of wisdom.
We rush into the wrong relationships because we’re afraid of being alone. Before we know it, we may have spent years of our precious time unhappy, trapped, or even abused.
The desire for love wasn’t the problem for me. The problem was believing that I needed a relationship to make my life whole—and that time was running out for me to find one.
It’s Not a Man’s Job to Rescue Me
Another damaging message I absorbed at a very young age was that a man would one day rescue me.
I completely subscribed to the version of romance presented in fairy tales and depicted on television and in movies. Somewhere out there was my knight in shining armor. He would arrive with all the answers, sweep me off my feet, and make my life better.
But I eventually realized that this fantasy affected the way I approached real relationships. It actually made me less empathetic because it didn’t allow my partner to be human.
If someone is supposed to be perfect, how can he ever make a mistake? How can he be vulnerable, uncertain, or need support himself?
My ideal mate is supposed to have all the answers. He’s supposed to have life figured out already. He’s supposed to support, protect, guide, and forgive me—but never need those same things in return. Through my relationship with him, my life is supposed to improve, while his life is already exactly where it needs to be.
Looking back, I can see how detrimental that version of romance was to developing healthy relationships. A real partnership cannot be built between one regular human being and one imaginary perfect being. It has to leave room for both people to make mistakes, grow, need support, and offer grace to each other.
Attention and Interest Are Not the Same
I’ve also learned that there is an important difference between a man giving me attention and a man expressing genuine interest.
Understanding that difference has saved me from wasting a lot of time when identifying potential love interests.
Attention can include noticing me, talking to me, appreciating my beauty, flirting with me, and saying all the things I want to hear. It’s the fun stuff that makes us giggle, blush, and feel giddy because someone likes us and is singling us out.
Attention is instantly exciting, but it requires relatively little effort compared with building a relationship.
Interest goes much deeper.
Genuine interest involves all of the above, along with wanting to know who I am, how I navigate life, where I’ve been, where I’m going, and whether our lives are truly compatible. It also means allowing me to learn those same things about him.
That is a highly intentional and involved process. It can’t be established through flirting, chemistry, compliments, or exciting conversations alone. It requires consistency and time.
I had to learn not to confuse the feeling of being wanted with the experience of being genuinely seen and known.
The Problem Isn’t My List
Lists receive a lot of attention in conversations about dating. Some people place tremendous importance on having one. Others suggest that women sabotage themselves by creating lists of requirements no real man could ever meet.
I still believe in having a list.
I don’t think a woman is sabotaging herself simply because she has standards and knows what she wants. My problem wasn’t that I had a list. The problem was that I expected my list to tell me more than it possibly could.
My list began as a mental collection of qualities. Over time, it evolved into an actual bulleted list and then into a checklist of non-negotiables.
Some of the boxes were easy to check.
Is he tall, dark, and handsome? Check.
Does he have a good job? Check.
Is he funny? Check.
Okay, he must be the one!
I thought the list made it easier to determine whether a man was right for me. Instead, I sometimes used it as a shortcut for getting into relationships. If someone checked enough boxes, I treated that as proof of compatibility.
Then one day, I looked at everything I wanted someone else to bring into my life and had an uncomfortable realization: I didn’t possess everything on my own list.
I was expecting another person to arrive with a complete package that I wasn’t yet able to offer in return.
That realization changed the purpose of my list. Instead of using it only to evaluate someone else, I started focusing on myself and working to check some of those boxes in my own life.
Eventually, my list transformed again. I began to see it as just one part of a much deeper evaluation of our actual interactions.
That doesn’t mean looks, attraction, personality, lifestyle, shared values, or financial stability are unimportant. We’re human. Those things contribute to who we are and whom we choose to welcome into our lives—not only romantically, but in general.
But a man can possess every quality I originally requested and still not be right for me.
The list is important, but it’s only a starting point.
The Résumé Is Not the Final Decision
I now think of checking off my list as being somewhat like an employer reviewing a résumé.
A résumé allows the employer to see whether an applicant appears to have the basic qualifications for a position. If the qualifications seem to align, the candidate may be invited to interview.
But a responsible employer doesn’t look at a résumé, check off a few boxes, and immediately conclude, “This person is perfect for us.”
The résumé can’t reveal everything.
There still has to be an interview. Even after someone is hired, there is often a probationary period because qualifications on paper can’t predict exactly how a person will function within an organization over time.
My list serves a similar purpose. It helps me recognize whether there is enough attraction, compatibility, stability, and alignment to consider getting to know someone.
But checking the boxes doesn’t automatically qualify someone for a permanent position in my life.
And to be clear, I’m not suggesting that dating should follow a literal 90-day probationary schedule or that people should be treated like job applicants. The comparison is about understanding the limits of preliminary qualifications and allowing time to reveal who someone is and how the relationship actually functions.
Some of the most important information can only be revealed through everyday situations, the circumstances we face as a couple, and enough time to experience each other through every season of the year. That matters to me because I know that even my own personality and mood can shift somewhat during the colder, darker months.
The Questions My List Cannot Answer
Once someone has checked those preliminary boxes, I have to begin asking deeper questions, such as:
Do I genuinely want a relationship with this particular person—or am I more in love with the idea of being in love?
Am I interested in who he actually is, or am I simply excited by the attention he’s giving me?
How do I feel when I’m around this person?
Am I relaxed, or am I constantly anxious?
Do I feel safe?
Am I being true to myself, or am I putting on a show to convince him to like me?
Can we both be vulnerable?
Can we support each other, or is one person always expected to be the strong one?
How do we respond when we disagree or disappoint each other?
Do we genuinely want the best for each other?
A checklist can tell me whether someone has certain qualities, but it cannot tell me how we’ll actually treat and feel about each other.
That can only become clear as two people get to know each other over time.
I’m Complete, With or Without a Relationship
For most of my life, I believed love would fill an empty place in my heart. Now I understand that building a fulfilling life is my own responsibility.
As I’ve matured, I’ve developed healthier self-esteem and a more solid understanding of God’s plan for my life.
Marriage isn’t required of everyone and singleness isn’t an inferior way to live.
I’m still open to love and marriage. A relationship could add something beautiful to my life, but it cannot carry the responsibility of making me a whole person.
I no longer want a knight in shining armor. I want a relationship that allows both of us to be human—to learn, make mistakes, grow, offer support, and give each other grace.
Yes, I’m retired and still single.
But I no longer see my singleness as an empty space someone needs to fill. It’s the life I have right now—and I’m at peace with it.
What about you? Has your understanding of love and partnership changed as you’ve gotten older? Whether you’re single, married, or somewhere in between, what have you learned about what makes a relationship healthy?
For more conversation on this and other early retiree topics, be sure to browse the playlists on my YouTube channel and visit my podcast on Spotify.
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