Dating at 60 proves love has no expiry date
· Citizen
Dating at over 60? I can safely define it as the adventure nobody warned us about.
After yonks of celibacy, solitude and sensible shoes, suddenly you’re back in the game, wondering if “Netflix and chill” literally means watching a documentary about penguins and having a nap.
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Let’s be honest. The dating world has changed. The last time I flirted, phones had cords and “ghosting” referred to actual ghosts. Now there are apps. Swiping. Emojis. Apparently, people fall in love through their thumbs. I had to Google what a “DM” was before I accidentally proposed marriage via Facebook Messenger.
First dates are nerve-wracking. I literally spent three hours choosing an outfit, then realised everything I own is either black, elasticated, or both.
I finally settled on “comfortable chic,” which is code for “I can breathe while sitting down”. My date arrived late, wearing skinny jeans and optimism. I arrived wearing orthopaedic shoes and experience.
Conversation is … well, interesting. In your 20s, you compare dreams and music tastes with enthusiasm. At my age, you compare things like medications, hearing aids and cholesterol levels.
“So, what do you take for your back pain?” is the new “What’s your sign?” And instead of discussing where you see yourself in five years, you both quietly hope your joints still work by next Thursday.
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The first kiss is even trickier. After years of living solo, suddenly someone else’s face comes alarmingly close. I nearly apologised mid-smooch for forgetting how to aim properly. Romance, it turns out, requires reading glasses and good lighting. And preferably your own teeth.
And then there’s texting. On a touch-screen. I tried to send a heart emoji and accidentally sent a fried egg. My date replied with a thumbs up and a question mark.
Modern love, apparently, is interpretive.
Still, there’s something beautiful about dating at this age. There’s no rush, no games, no pretending to be cool. You already know who you are … slightly dented, deeply interesting and still capable of blushing.
Sure, there are awkward moments; the “I thought you were taller” encounters, the early bedtimes, the mysterious creaks (both in the furniture and your knees).
But there’s also laughter, companionship and the thrill of rediscovering butterflies you thought had long flown south.
In short, dating at 60 is clumsy, hilarious, mostly fun and occasionally heart-warming. And if all else fails, there’s always dessert.
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