Dear Roe,
I’m in my 60s and in a relationship with a guy 14 years older than me. He’s very nice and pleasant, but I feel the relationship is lacking in so many ways. We have little or no intimacy. I’d like to ideally have a partner and possibly settle down even at this stage but he has said he wants to stay as he is. We haven’t gone “public” about the relationship and I’m beginning to wonder if we are just friends. We never sleep together and when we were away together recently intimacy was very limited. I feel like he uses an illness that he has as an excuse to be distant. I’m beginning to wonder what do we have? We have two hobbies in common and he helps me with my house, but that’s it. We rarely go out and financially I’m way ahead of him so I feel I have to drop to his limits. Having put this in writing to you I’m beginning to feel this relationship for me is more of a dream about the possibility of something deeper, but after a year it hasn’t happened. Recently we had a family occasion and initially he declined to go, stating it was a family event etc, but then switched to say if I wished for him to go then he’d go. I went alone, but I feel this also indicates his lack of commitment to me and he only wants the bits of me that suit him.
In the absolutely perfect show Fleabag, the absolutely perfect Fiona Shaw plays a therapist who sees Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s character for a one-off session. During the brief session, the therapist claims, “You already know what you’re going to do. Everybody does.” Far be it from me to question the wisdom of either Waller-Bridge or any words that come out of Shaw’s mouth, but I will put a slight twist on it. I’ve said this before about writing this column, but I firmly believe that most people who write to me often have a pretty good gut feeling about what they need, what they want and what they should do. Most often, the problem comes not from not knowing what you need or want to do, but from fighting against the internal or external forces telling you that you’re wrong.
You write that even through writing this letter, you realise you’ve been projecting possibility on to this man, the dream of something more intimate, more aligned with what you want. You know what he’s offering you isn’t enough, isn’t what you envision for yourself from a romantic relationship. You want intimacy, sex, an integrated social life with each other’s family and friends, shared experiences, a similar lifestyle, support and presence for each other’s big moments, and a shared vision for the future. These are all very natural, very normal desires and I don’t think that convincing yourself to settle for less is going to bring you happiness.
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In your 60s and 70s, there can be a quiet societal whisper telling you that you should be grateful for whatever companionship you can find. And don’t get me wrong – friends and companionship are beautiful, important things. But they are not all you want, or all that is available to you. Relationships at this age can still be deeply intimate, romantic, committed and socially integrated – that’s not a question of age, but of alignment. There are people out there offering what you are looking for – this man just isn’t one of them.
His health issues notwithstanding, he has explicitly told you that he doesn’t share your desire to settle down. He seems reluctant to meet you emotionally or make an effort to express the commitment you are looking for. This is an imbalance, and I fear that in the long run this imbalance will make you feel small and eroded, limiting the alleviation of loneliness that this relationship offers and bringing with it a lessened sense of self-respect. You’re looking for connection, partnership, intimacy – the last thing you need is a relationship that leaves you feeling lonelier, disconnected and more alienated than before.
I do think it’s possible to keep this man as a friend, if you wish – I think all of us could do with expanding our social circles and keeping decent people around, allowing them to add to our lives in whatever capacity they can. But right now, keeping this man in the space held for romantic partnership will keep you unavailable to pursue and find what you really want, and I think you know that.
So there is your gut instinct, your inner knowing: this relationship isn’t enough for you. So what are the other internal or external factors causing you to second-guess yourself? Is it that you don’t believe you deserve more? Is it that you fear seeming ungrateful? Is it that dating and finding this man was difficult and you fear starting that process over? Is it that you fear the loneliness that may come if you end this relationship, either temporarily or long-term? Is it a combination of these factors, or something else entirely?
I want you to think of the grief that will come if you decide to stay, closing down the possibility of hope, of something different, something better.
Getting in touch with the core fears that are plaguing you might be initially painful as you grapple with vulnerable thoughts and emotions, but I think it will ultimately be very helpful. Realising the fears that are holding you back will allow you to put them into perspective, while also making a plan for how to address them while still making room for another relationship in your life. This could look like working on your self-esteem; expanding your social network so you have more people in your life to enjoy hobbies or experiences with; investing more in friendships and family relationships so the connections you do have feel fulfilling and you feel seen by those in your life. It could mean attending singles events for people in your age range, not only to potentially meet someone, but to see that you’re not alone in your desire to meet a partner.
Leaving a “nice but not enough” relationship can be difficult, often requiring more resolve than leaving a clearly bad one. Here, there is no dramatic rupture, no list of bad behaviour to justify your choice. This is why you need to lean into your gut instinct, your own quiet authority telling you that you want more than just pleasantness.
[ ‘I feel sexually muted but I don’t want to blow up my marriage’Opens in new window ]
There are likely three big emotions circling around this decision: grief over what you wanted this relationship to be and what never materialised; the courage required to believe that it’s worth hoping for more and making yourself available for it; and the fear that often accompanies leaving something certain for the unknown, and the vulnerability that comes with that.
But if fear threatens to overwhelm you right now and keep you stuck, I want to remind you of the other ways grief and fear might move into your life in other ways. I want to remind you of the fear that already exists in your relationship now, as it stands – the fear of staying and shrinking yourself, losing yourself, to someone else’s limitations. I want you to think of the grief that will come if you decide to stay, closing down the possibility of hope, of something different, something better.
So if you are asking whether your dissatisfaction is valid, it is. If you’re asking if there’s reason to hope for more, there is. And if you’re asking whether you have the courage to go find it, I think you know the answer to that one too.
You already know what you’re going to do. It’ll be scary, beautiful and worth it. Good luck.
