Why I would never marry again

When I first separated from my husband and moved into my own flat, it felt like coming up from a coalmine and breathing fresh air for the first time in my life. Not that the marriage was awful, it wasn't and 30 years later we are still the best of friends, even once or twice going on holiday together.

And I've had relationships since then, one lasting 12 fantastic years.

But as for living with somebody again, sharing my space with somebody, anybody, or tying the knot – no thanks. Even though it is becoming ever more common for older people to marry, or remarry, I have always known that it was not for me. And nor would I recommend it to anybody else.

It seems, though, that I am in the minority. Not long ago, 84-year-old Rupert Murdoch announced his engagement to model Jerry Hall, 60, and for many ancient celebrities, from Rod Stewart to Ronnie Wood and former tennis player David Lloyd, it never seems too late to walk up the aisle again, and even to start a new family, in some cases.

And late-life marriages are no longer confined to heterosexual couples. In 2015, lesbian novelist Jeanette Winterson, 56, married her female partner, Princess Diana's psychotherapist Susie Orbach, 69. Susie had previously been in a long heterosexual relationship that produced two children, now adult.

But isn't it wonderful that so many older people are finding love again and making a lasting commitment to their new partners? Isn't it better than facing the prospect of a lonely old age?

Well, yes up to a point maybe. But in my view there are many good reasons why it's daft to remarry in later life, and these reasons will only multiply as you get older.

With celebrities and rock stars, it's all about the money of course, and possibly reflected glory, especially when the new spouse is several decades younger. But with more ordinary people, whatever is the point?

When in the first flush of a new romance, it can be easy to forget that once you are married, your new spouse starts to acquire rights in your estate, almost immediately. And the longer the marriage lasts, the more these rights accrue. This can mean that your children and grandchildren are excluded from any inheritance they might have expected.

This happened, sadly, to the children of my late partner's sister. When she died, her husband quickly remarried, only to live himself for another two years. The new wife inherited everything and the children of the first marriage got nothing whatever of their father's estate. The wife lived on for many years and when she died, her own children got the lot.

And this is by no means an isolated example; you can read similar cases almost every day in the newspapers.

I have to say that one of my reasons for vowing never to remarry was that I did not want my hard-earned wealth, such as it was, to be halved once again if the marriage did not work. Nor did I relish the prospect of my money going to a new spouse's children rather than my own, if I died first.

But even leaving aside the vexed issue of who gets the money on your death, it still makes no sense to marry in old age.

For one thing, you get set in your ways, and tolerance of another person's habits and funny little ways decreases with the advancing years. Just think of the drawbacks of sharing space in later life with a new spouse, especially if you have enjoyed being on your own for many years. You are opening up your home to a stranger, or maybe moving into theirs. Or perhaps you decide to buy a new home together.

You then discover that your home and your life are no longer your own and you may have to cope with big shoes in the hall, somebody snoring in your bed, Saturdays now being devoted to watching sport on television, and having to cook and wash for another person all over again. And what is worse, putting up with another person's toiletries in your bathroom. The toilet seat may always be up. Although these aspects may seem trivial, when repeated constantly, they can annoy you enough eventually to feel like committing murder.

And then, with older spouses, there is the likelihood that they will get seriously ill and do you honestly want to lumber yourself with an old person to look after? It's one thing if you married when young and have grown old together, but another matter entirely when you get hitched to somebody with an existing heart problem, or other age-related illness.

Just to give a personal example, a couple of years ago I met a new man, and he kept agitating to get married, even though he was already over 70. He seemed fit and healthy when we met, and was still working full-time in a demanding job. Then he had a medical check-up and was found to have terminal cancer, even though he felt perfectly well. He died this January, and I find I am an executor of his will. That is complicated enough, but imagine the additional ramifications if I had been foolish enough to accept his many proposals of marriage.

At this point, the sceptical may wonder whether it is even possible to fall passionately in love with a new person in older age. After all, most poets have only written about young love. Yes, I can say from experience, that Cupid's arrows have no age limit and can as easily pierce old hearts as young ones. But – and this is a very big but – as with young people, it doesn't always last. If anything, love and attraction tend to be even more fleeting in later life. Then, if you have made the mistake of getting married, you may find yourself stuck with somebody you don't even like much any more.

So I say, let them come and let them go, enjoy dates and evenings out, even holidays together, but never try to bind somebody to yourself in late-life wedlock. The old adage, marry in haste, repent in leisure, becomes ever more true the older you get.

ends