1_Introduction: Influencer Grandmas, Golden Bachelors, and the Retired Runner Nextdoor

Meet Grandma Droniak. At 95 years old, she has an enviable social media following—15 million on TikTok and nearly four million on Instagram—and she uses her platforms to entertain and inform about later-life love. [1] A widow who enjoyed 48 years of marriage with her late husband, she’s since re-entered the dating world and chronicled her adventures with the help of her manager and grandson, Kevin. She wrapped up 2023—one of her spiciest relationship years yet—with a video highlighting her accomplishments: getting a new boyfriend, ghosting sub-par suitors, and dumping a dishonest man. She even discovered, when one man quit returning her calls and texts and seemed to be ghosting her, that he’d in fact died and “turned into a ghost.” [2] In her hometown of Shelton, Connecticut, she has found companions at bars, bingo nights, and even funerals, but she also turns to social media to scout for boyfriends. While she is known for her sarcasm and humour, she also chronicles the more serious side of love through moments like getting ready to attend her ex-boyfriend’s funeral. Always one to remind her followers that life is short and time is precious, she tells them that once she’s dead, she wants them to “slay while I decay.” [3]

Although ‘grandfluencer’ Grandma Droniak is an exceptional figure in the world of influencers and relationship advisors—by virtue of her age, her viral popularity, and the blunt humor she uses to deliver her messages—she is not the only public figure bringing attention to new romantic relationships in later life. Now completing its second season in the United States, and its first in Australia, The Golden Bachelor—a spinoff of the long-running reality series, The Bachelor—introduces eligible women in their sixties and up to a single, sought-after man with the hope of kindling a lasting romance. And while fans of the franchise were disappointed that the series’ inaugural couple, Gerry Turner and Theresa Nist, have ended up divorced and are fighting over relationship revelations in Gerry’s newly published memoir, many fans are at least thankful that the series has put later-life relationships (LLRs) on the map.

Indeed, in a less sensational way than the Golden Bachelor’s ‘rose ceremonies’ (i.e., contestant elimination) and Grandma Droniak’s salty commentaries, other voicesre making space for LLRs. In one of the New York Times’ most-read “Modern Love” columns, journalist Eve Pell recounted meeting Sam, a “charming, fit, single man of 77” through their mutual passion of distance running. [4] Their romance blossomed slowly, undramatically, and with the support of their friends and families. When they turned a combined age of 150 (she was 70, he was 80), they threw a birthday party and announced their engagement. She later wrote a book about others’ later-life romances, and in an unexpected development became the recipient of thousands of emails from people wanting to share stories or ask for advice about later-life love. Clearly, the public was hungry to talk about dates, sex, and big feelings at a time of life we rarely associate with romance. Even Oprah Winfrey is taking note of our culture’s growing appetite for talking about relationships in later life: in late October 2025, she launched a podcast, “Gray Divorce (After 50) & Adult Children: The Fallout for the Family,” that brought together relationship experts, legal advisors, and everyday voices to talk about relationship transitions among older cohorts. In its first month online, it garnered three million views. [5]

I am a sociologist and relationship researcher, and I have also been tuning into these conversations more and more. Five years ago, across my home country, Canada, I began interviewing people aged 55 and up who had recently found new love and settled into committed relationships. This journey has since taken me online to do netnographic [6] research on LLRs; I have watched influencer and grandfluencer content, YouTube channels by credentialed relationship experts, as well as narratives and dating tips from everyday people looking for love. I have dug deep into Reddit threads, and have also sifted through thousands of comments from content viewers to get a sense of how, and why, people in later life talk about new romantic relationships. I was not drawn to this research because I am part of the later-life dating demographic—rather, I am a Millennial, and when I started the project, I was recently married and a new parent. What encouraged me to shift my research focus from younger cohorts to later-life experiences was that, increasingly, I noticed—in my friends’ parents, my colleagues, my neighbors, and members of my community—that these are the people in my midst living out the most complex and interesting love stories. I wanted to understand who they are, how they live, and what my part might be in supporting them to live their best lives in this often-unexpected chapter of later-life love. As a sociologist, I was also curious about how understanding their experiences might point to the need for broader structural and cultural changes.

The New Love in Later Life project began in 2020, when, as the principal investigator, I started to interview Canadians across the country who were in new heterosexual romantic relationships (of one to five years’ duration) that they defined as being serious or committed. Between 2020 and 2021, I conducted in-depth interviews with a total of 60 participants—nearly half of whom were men—and worked with a doctoral research assistant to analyze the interview data. In 2025, with the help of an undergraduate research assistant, I began the second stage of the project, which was the netnographic exploration of new relationships in later life. Through this research stage, we collected just over 500 units of online content that we then analyzed. While the interview recruitment was open to men and women aged 55+ from all walks of life, and solicited participation through various channels, those who came forward were predominantly university-educated, retired professionals who were born in Canada and who self-identified as ethnically white with European backgrounds. Despite this strong representation of Canadian-born professionals, participants’ economic circumstances did vary widely. Some had generous work pensions and vacation homes, while others lived in mobile home parks and worked extra shifts to rebuild financially after devastating divorces. Their health also varied significantly, with some still enjoying the travel and sporting activities they had always taken part in, and others significantly limited in their mobility and ability to participate in daily activities. Thus, while these Canadians’ stories represent some of the diversity across the later-life re-partnering landscape, it is important to recognize that new love in later life can look and feel different across different sociodemographic positions, sometimes in ways I was unable to capture in this sample.

Further, I didn’t know much about their experiences beyond a limited number of published academic studies and the more sensational material that makes it into popular culture conversation—like the Grandma Droniaks, the Golden Bachelors, and the in-depth reports on scammers such as the Internet Black Widow who charmed men, emptied their bank accounts, then quietly murdered them. [7] What, I asked, is below the tip of the (often entertaining or shocking) iceberg when it comes to life experiences of those in LLRs? Perhaps because LLRs constitute what relationship researchers call an off-time transition (a life transition or event that happens either earlier or later than the typical age or age range for that particular transition) and often escape statistical categorization by ‘living apart together’ in separate dwellings, [8] little empirical and theoretical work has been invested in them compared to studying hookups, dating, and relationship transitions in teens and younger adults.

American and Canadian government statistics report that gray divorce has risen sharply since the 1990s, with similar trends appearing across Europe; [9] in the U.S. particularly, there is a growing pool of older adults who are newly single and potentially interested in a new relationship. In fact, across the American landscape, the only age cohort with an increasing divorce rate is adults over age 65. [10] National statistical bodies also demonstrate marked trends toward longer, healthier lives—yet another circumstance paving the way for more relationships in later life. How, though, is this statistical picture rounded out with narratives? What are LLRs like in everyday life? And how have other social shifts—like reduced stigma around later-life sexual activity, growing gender equality, the increased catering of wellness and beauty industries to older demographics, and the expansion of online dating platforms and services to older cohorts—impacted experiences of new love in later life? The Pew Research Center reports that six percent of Americans aged 50 and older now meet their long-term partners online. [11] If this trend continues its explosive growth that began at the turn of the millennium, what does this mean for the future of LLRs’ prevalence and key characteristics?

Although LLRs are coming onto the cultural and even the statistical radar, they still warrant more space in public dialogues, and we need to see them in their fullness. My main aim in my research and in this _Perspective is to validate and shed light on LLRs while encouraging all levels of social life—from the micro-level of our social networks to the macro-level of institutions and governments—to make space for a demographic and relationship shift that appears here to stay.

2_From the Bedroom to the Pickleball Court: Mapping the Later-Life Relationship Landscape

Just like any researcher at the start of a new adventure, when I was preparing to do the interview-based part of my project I was unsure of who would come forward to share their experiences and what I would discover. To my surprise, the response was swift and I was literally able to enjoy my morning coffee as the ding! ding! ding! of emails from prospective participants flooded my inbox. I was heartened that the topic of new love in later life resonated with people as old as their mid-nineties, from diverse areas across the country. Especially given the longstanding tendency of social science research to downplay or ignore the romantic and sexual lives of people in later life—with studies commonly cutting off participant ages before 60—I had many gaps to fill. [12] The average age of those I interviewed was 71, making them markedly older than most subjects in studies of later-life sexuality and relationships.

Given the patchy research landscape on LLRs, with particularly little attention to their online presence, I was motivated by the following overarching research questions: How are LLRs different from, yet similar to, earlier-life romances and the search for a life partner? What major challenges do people in LLRs encounter when seeking out and forming a relationship, and how do they overcome them? These guiding questions led me to ask some sub-questions, which I will address in this chapter: Demographically, socially, and psychologically, who are the people in LLRs? How do they challenge the ways in which we understand relationships from our youth-focused standpoint, and the ways we organize our social lives? Finally, stepping back to see the big picture, I asked a question that I will consider at the end of this _Perspective: What practical lessons can they teach us about how to live and love?

Overwhelmingly, I found that the experience of new love in later life is one of expansiveness and possibility. And very importantly, through the interviews and subsequent netnographic research, I discovered how “badass” (to borrow one of Grandma Droniak’s favorite terms) and powerful these older daters are: on a broad cultural level, they are creating counter narratives to the more limiting master narratives they had been taught about how to live their later years. [13] Instead of accepting and leaning into expectations of fading into the background of social life, bowing out of sexual activity, being thankful for the enduring romantic relationships they have had (even though those may be over now), and generally not attracting much attention to themselves, they are instead demonstrating that weddings, vast lingerie collections, and visits to the sexual health clinic can be parts of their later-life stories. So, too, can long runs in the forest or yoga with their new love. As Grandma Droniak would say—but most everyday daters without a big media following would be shy to acknowledge—they are choosing to slay.

Perhaps the most surprising way that those in and searching for LLRs create counter-narratives of later life—especially in light of the social sciences’ poor track record with noticing sexuality in the later years—is by openly acknowledging and exploring their sexual sides. Online, they have built a growing presence where they candidly discuss sexual needs, desires, and anxieties as they transition from single back into seeking and forming romantic relationships. Although the platforms they use for discussing sexuality in LLRs are modestly subscribed compared to Grandma Droniak’s social media sites, they still attract extensive followings and lively comment sections: Anguilla-based YouTuber YourWingmam, whose content includes moving on after being widowed, has over 400,000 subscribers and attracts hundreds of comments per video; American TikTok personality emilyfryq, who focuses on the post-50 experience of divorce and new relationships, has over 200,000 followers and 1.1 million likes. Whether they create content from a place of personal experience or professional expertise, what they share shatters stereotypes of sexuality in LLRs. For example, across platforms content creators and commenters address ‘widow’s fire’—a term of discourse developed and defined by the creators in reference to the intense sexual desire that often follows the death of a spouse, especially among men. [14]

Importantly, older relationship seekers speak about their sexual lives online not just in terms of straight up intercourse, but about reconnecting with their sensual desires more generally after divorce or widowhood; women, in particular, speak of missing sensual experiences and their eagerness to explore their bodies and desires with someone new, despite some trepidation given the physical changes that have come with time, childbearing, and menopause. I was particularly excited to discover numerous online comment sections full of people saying that their sex lives now (i.e., in their fifties, sixties, and seventies), are better than they were in their twenties. [15]

Online commenters’ views of sexuality and LLRs confirmed what I had found through my interviews: looking for, and finding, new love in later life is filled with sexual desire, activity, and discovery. Consider Wayne, age 81, a recently widowed camping and travelling enthusiast I interviewed who maintained a very active social life and met his new girlfriend through one of his social clubs. [16] When he revealed his desire to have sex with her—a conversation that unfolded as he was driving her home from a brunch date—she was at once taken aback but thrilled: “She was quite shocked. But then answered, ‘Let’s do it.’”

Likewise, Terry, a 77-year-old retired real estate agent and widower, was forthcoming about his need for a strong sexual dimension to his later-life romances: “Sex is important to me. I’d say I wouldn’t be in a relationship, I don’t care how attractive or whatever else the woman is, if sex was not a good part of it.” Lending much credibility to online content creators’ stories of widow’s fire, Roger, a 74-year-old accountant, described himself as a “horny widower,” even in the midst of his grief. His urge to end his period of mourning and celibacy was a powerful catalyst to him getting out, dating online, and even trying new sporting activities where he might meet women.

Lest this sexy senior persona be construed as a ‘man thing,’ the older women I interviewed also spoke of their own carnal pleasures in new relationships: Gloria, an 80-year-old retired teacher with a new partner, spoke in depth about her exploration of tantric sex with him, and May, a 68-year-old woman with a career in health administration, gushed about her love of naked hot tubbing as foreplay or simply a sensual end to the night. Brenda, 72 and reflecting on her post-divorce dating and new relationship, simply said, “Christ I like sex.”

A second, dominant counter narrative emerges through how those in LLRs are still living in a life stage that developmental psychologists would call generative. [17] In contrast to classic theories of psychosocial development that see the later years as less busy and more reflective, those in LLRs demonstrate that, while they have certainly gained considerable self-knowledge and reflected on big questions about life purpose, they are still firmly in a life moment of doing. Particularly for women who divorced or were widowed after a spouse’s long illness and a period of caretaking, LLRs—and the dating leading up to them—are freeing, fruitful, and an opportunity to become reacquainted with oneself. Without exception, the individuals I interviewed re-explored old hobbies and activities or started new ones alongside their journeys into new romantic relationships. From biking and pickleball to crafting and international travel, they kept moving forward, literally and figuratively. Oprah’s gray divorce podcast features similar narratives of budding romance in a context of new (or newly rediscovered) activities, with storylines reminiscent of the success stories shared on Reddit. From the YouTube channel “Dating after 60? It’s Never 2 Late 2 Date!” [18] to the subreddit “R/DatingOverSixty,” [19] content creators and commenters paint a picture of LLRs as growth experiences par excellence. Of course, there are challenges, adjustments, and setbacks, both within the relationships and their participants’ broader lives, but those who do settle into LLRs don’t tend to dwell on them or see themselves as victims.

Two of my interviewees, Eugene, age 78, and Margaret, 72, are good examples of the later-life generativity that so often surrounds those in new relationships. In Eugene’s case, after healing from the grief of his wife’s death to lung cancer, a new relationship and marriage, begun through an introduction within his faith community, brought him into deeper connection with that community, introduced him to a massive step-family with whom he enjoys reunions and parties, and spurred him to try out his new wife’s hobbies—art and gardening. Similarly, after being widowed, Margaret gained many new family members through her later-life remarriage, and this expansion led her to take on a coordinating role in planning family holidays and special events. It has also encouraged her to become more active in her regional dance scene, since her new husband is an avid ballroom dancer, and has kept her traveling for major dance events. These individuals’ timelines for coming into new love align with what researchers find are some of the happiest years of life, on average. [20] For those in newly formed LLRs, the higher self-esteem and self-awareness that are typically found in older populations combine with the new social networks and experiences that a budding relationship opens. The result is anything but life stagnation.

LLRs also challenge dominant narratives of later life because, overwhelmingly, those in them choose not to frame their prior relationships and life experiences as burdens or ‘baggage’ weighing them down; instead, they see their preceding life chapters as valuable teachers. Psychotherapist Lori Gottlieb sums up the transition in Oprah’s gray divorce podcast: “You are not starting from zero—you’re starting from experience.” [21] Most people in LLRs not only choose to see prior challenges as instructive rather than crushing, but also are now showing up in new romantic relationships without much of the weight of earlier life, namely career building, raising children, and dealing with the financial and time pinch of midlife. What’s more, they are frequently determined not to repeat any unhealthy patterns from prior relationships. Leann, for example, could have come out of her abusive marriage and retreated into a shell of isolation and even shame. But as we talked at length, it was evident that she, now 55, had instead chosen to acknowledge her past yet break free from those narratives as she began to date and then settle into a new relationship. Much the same, DollyDay800, on her “Southern Hospitality” blog, [22] summarizes her take on later-life dating: Yes, we’ve all had bad relationship experiences, but to enter into LLR territory we must set boundaries, have standards, and move forward. Be self-respecting and have the courage to introduce yourself to you—in this new chapter.

Reflecting from my vantage point as a Millennial researcher, I often step back from my research to ask, what are the main lessons that LLRs can teach younger generations? The takeaway that stands out most for me is that love has no expiration date, and that authenticity—which is central to successful LLRs—is a vital ingredient in a romantic relationship at any age. It is also an ingredient that appears to grow more central to the relationship recipe as people advance across the life course. After all, what does an 80- or 90-year-old have to lose by putting their true self forward through online dating platforms and in real-life mingling situations? Older daters tend to have less of the self-consciousness and over-analysis that can often hinder younger age cohorts as they seek to form relationships. They have learned when to compromise, when to stand their ground, and when to simply let go: a delicate balance advocated by many relationship therapists in the online LLR discussion space. In my interviews, as with my netnographic work, I was struck by how their tendency toward side-stepping drama and appreciating common ground aligned with Aaron Ben-Ze’ev’s conception of the calm romance. [23] As Ben Ze’ev notes, a romance can be at once calm and exciting. In fact, he argues that this state of calm excitement might be the pinnacle of relational success and happiness.

Another salient life lesson emerging from the research is that a fulfilling romantic and sexual relationship involves so much more than intercourse. Nobody taught me this better than Walter, age 94, who spoke to me at length about his new relationship with his 79-year-old girlfriend. He spoke candidly about how, due to a health condition, it is too risky for her to have intercourse anymore, but that they do a great job of compromising. Their relationship is characterized by sensuality, a desire to give and please the other, and an appreciation of humor as the special sauce that keeps them bonded.

Whereas social scientists have often fixated on intercourse—both its quantity and perceived quality—as benchmarks of relational satisfaction, [24] new partners in later life derive sexual fulfilment through a broad spectrum of experiences. Circling back to Terry (77), consider his revelations about his sex life as an older widower:

We had a bit to drink while out at a club or dinner, and by God, we danced nude for half an hour to an hour in her master bedroom. And I thought, ‘My God […] how many couples in their seventies, who’ve only dated maybe a few times in a couple of weeks, are now starting this off?’ So, I don’t know. It could be wide open out there, I guess. Nobody really knows about who’s out doing what.

Finally, people in LLRs offer powerful lessons through the ways in which they challenge classical developmental theories and conventional wisdom about later life. They embrace generativity, eschewing stagnation and allowing themselves to be surprised by who they are becoming in their new life chapter. Some, like Virginia, a retired 77-year-old medical specialist, almost go into overdrive in their attempts to counter the feeling that “time is running out” and they must make the best of their time in a new relationship. In a world where loneliness has become a public health crisis, [25] and where more people live solo than ever before in human history, [26] their bold moves toward connection challenge the status quo. Older people in new relationships are rebels. Yes, Grandma Droniak, they slay.

3_Normalizing LLRs: Navigating a World Without Expiration Dates

As we move, more and more, toward a time where the dominant cultural assumption is that love has no expiration date, how can we support the LLRs in our lives? On the micro level of our closest interpersonal relationships with family and friends, this can encompass accepting the social roles and life stages of others as dynamic, and being open-minded about how they transform as their relationship status does. An openness to the LLRs in our inner circle should include the recognition, however, that relationship transitions preceding the formation of an LLR (namely, gray divorce and the death of a spouse) can be just as shocking—and in some cases even harder to navigate—for close kin and friends than for the ‘transitioners’ themselves. [27] The grief that often accompanies divorce and widowhood needs to be acknowledged and processed within entire families and social groups. Support for those in LLRs we are close to may also involve providing guidance if it seems like they are being taken advantage of or otherwise mistreated in a relationship (while admittedly it can be difficult striking a balance between being nonjudgmental yet having safety and well-being in mind). What’s more, it should include becoming aware of the unconscious biases we may hold vis-à-vis age and later life, such as cultural expectations surrounding sexuality and sexual expression.

At the level of communities, we owe it to older singles to organize opportunities for them to meet one another. These can happen organically, without the express intent of relationship formation (recall Eve and her “Modern Love” column), like volunteer opportunities, arts events, sports, and activities connected to spiritual life, or they can be designed as singles’ events. Moving outward to industries, financial and legal planning services (including estate planning), tourism, the wedding industry, [28] the sex toy industry, urban planning, and real estate should all become more attuned to the specific needs and preferences of those in LLRs for their products and services. Some promising examples of these initiatives are evident across North America and beyond: major financial service providers SunLife (in Canada) and J.P. Morgan Wealth Management (in the United States) advertise resources and expert consultations on navigating gray divorce, U.S.-based wedding e-commerce company and app, Zola, provides information and ideas for older honeymooners, and Swiss-based sex toy manufacturer Lonesome Dragon markets some of its sex swing models to later-life lovers. Finally, we are seeing growth in non-profit organizations that connect national initiatives with community-level volunteer opportunities and social and educational events. Through their local chapters across Canada and the United States, the Canadian and American Associations of Retired Persons (CARP and AARP) aim to enrich the everyday lives of those in their later years.

Considering the gaps I have noted in my interview and ethnographic data, counselors, therapists, and physicians should all receive additional training to ensure greater attunement to the sexual, mental, and emotional health dimensions of relationship transitions in later life. On a macro level, entire social structures like legal systems (most notably, legislation and legislative processes governing inheritance, housing, caregiving, and taxation) will need to adjust to rising rates of LLRs. Because they have so much life experience to share, I hope that we will also be increasingly open to letting those who have found new love in later life be our mentors, whatever love chapter we may be in and however they cross our paths.

_How to Cite

Sarah Knudson. “Love, Later: Making Space for New Romantic Relationships in Later Life.” On_Culture: The Open Journal for the Study of Culture 9 (2026). <https://doi.org/10.22029/oc.2020.1554>.