I’m 67, single and I’d never get married again – Anna Wise

Many unmarried women older than 65 are choosing not to get remarried, preferring to remain single. Photo / Getty Images

We’re taking a look back at some of our favourite and most popular Lifestyle stories of 2024, giving you a chance to catch up on some of the great reading you might have missed this year.

In this story from October, Anna Wise, 67, explains why she’s happy to be out of a relationship for the rest of her life.

There is a question I’ve often been asked in recent years by friends and acquaintances: would I ever remarry? And it takes me approximately one second to answer: No. No, not now I am over 60 (I’m 67), and not now I’m heading into my twilight years. As awful as it sounds, I simply cannot fathom taking on a new partner and tying the knot, with all the problems that might bring.

For a start, they might be older than me and in poorer health. Would I have to care for them? And potentially give up all the things that make my life special and fulfilled?

I’m also so wary of finding a partner late in life who I won’t have known for decades and might take me for a ride. You don’t have to look far to find horror stories of people who married later in life, only to have all their life-long savings embezzled.

While I don’t have a large inheritance to leave – especially once the UK government gets its hands on it – I want to gift my estate to my two children, now in their 30s, plus charities of my choice. Again, you hear terrible stories of children arguing with step-parents over a deceased parent’s wealth, and I couldn’t bear creating that chaos should I bring someone new into the fold.

More than this, though, I have no desire to get married as I have been there and done it, so I know the reality of what it can bring once the honeymoon is over. In my early 30s, I had a beautiful little wedding ceremony in Wadham College, Oxford, where I went to university in the late 70s.

It was, at the time, what was expected of me from my parents and wider society; to have children out of wedlock would have felt incorrect. But in addition to this, in the early years of that marriage at least, I was very happy. We had two children – a girl and boy – and I managed to continue with a job I loved, working as a geneticist in diagnostics at Churchill Hospital, Oxford, only retiring once I turned 60. We had wonderful family holidays and I do miss these.

Of course, I thought and hoped my marriage would last forever, but after a while I began to feel slightly constrained. It felt like life was fine if I agreed with what my husband wished, but if I chose to do anything I wanted, it created problems. Even if I picked up a book to read, my choice would be questioned. I felt as if I was continually compromising myself and that I simply didn’t have freedom.

"You hear terrible stories of children arguing with step-parents over a deceased parent’s wealth," says Anna Wise, who plans to stay single. Photo / 123RF

This problem continued to flare up and in the end we grew apart. We divorced in 2013 after 17 years together. It was terribly hard at the time. But though we are still fond of each other and see each other around the children, I am much happier on my own.

Perhaps this is what those who ask whether I will ever marry again struggle to understand – that I am terribly happy on my own. It’s not that I’ve been scarred by what came before, but I suppose I have now become very set in my own routine. I don’t want to have to answer to someone who might get cross at me reading in bed and want me to put the light out. It may sound trivial, but it matters to me. I just don’t want to compromise myself or what I enjoy.

Also, I never really feel lonely, not even on weekends. Perhaps this is because I only have one sister who is a decade older than me, so I was essentially an only child growing up and became used to my own company.

Nowadays, I spend my time reading or swimming, going to the cinema or theatre, or looking after my hens, cats and garden. I meet up with friends in Marsh Baldon, Oxford, where I live, and keep in touch with a number who are scattered all over the UK. Most of them still have partners, but they find time for me. My son also lives nearby so I see him. In essence, I keep very busy and there’s not a day that goes by where I’ve not got something planned. It sounds selfish, but I truly do value being able to do whatever I want and not being dictated to.

Of course, there are times when I have wished I had a partner. It might be nice to have someone to do things with, it’s far more difficult to travel or holiday or your own and you always get stung by the single supplement, making it twice as expensive. Cooking food can also be annoying. There’s always two chicken breasts in a packet, which means I have to eat it for two days in a row, but this is just a minor inconvenience.

A month's trial on a dating app convinced Anna Wise that she was happier single. Photo / Getty Images

I will confess that I have – just once – attempted online dating as a research trial for a new company. It was a few years ago but the month-long trial confirmed my misgivings regarding these sites. I think there is some truth in the classic line “all the good ones are taken”. The men I contacted didn’t reply, and the ones who approached me seemed awful. I couldn’t cope with it, and of course you don’t know if anyone is who they say they are. My children do worry sometimes that I am on my own, but I reassure them I’m okay.

However, even if I do somehow find a new partner, I would never want to marry them. There is no need and more and more people are shunning this institution at all ages of their lives. People don’t seem to feel it’s important, and I agree. What does a white dress and bouquet actually mean?

But I am aware of the future. I am 67. What will happen to my health in the next few years or decades? Will I be more lonely in my 70s or 80s? Will I wish I had tried harder to find love again and a companion to see out my days? But then I remind myself – you can be more lonely in a marriage than on your own. And I am not lonely; I am just fine. More than this, though, I am in good health and want to enjoy whatever time I have left on my own terms. And what, I ask, is wrong with that?