Donna: female, 50, married 13 years (together 18 years), has children

Donna has a warm, confident demeanor that’s found only rarely in those under 35. I’ve known her for many years and thought her story should be included. 

Her essentials list is thoughtful, but contains no surprises:

1. Tolerant and kind:  She needs a partner who is “open-minded to other people.” She gave as an example, “If we’re talking about politics and religion, there should be understanding, openness, and respect.”  Seeming to contradict this view, she was very clear that she’d “never date a person who liked Trump, or hated Muslims or someone who wasn't straight.”  In fact, she was certain of something else: “I definitely couldn’t date a Republican.”
2. Smart: She describes this as being “articulate, with a breadth of varied knowledge—introspective and thoughtful. Someone who likes learning and is interested in the world around them.”
3. Sense of humor:  She sees this as “someone who can poke fun at himself and finds life funny.”  “Silliness and laughter” were two additional descriptors she wanted to include.
4. “Has his shit together”:  He cannot be a “drug addict or alcoholic,” and he has to “pay his bills and not be in debt in a major way.”  It’s important to her that he plan for their “financial security.”
5. Healthy: He needs to “take care of his body and eat the right foods, at least most of the time.”  He should “be fit,” exercise, and not smoke.

Knowing Donna as I do, it’s obvious that she requires a partner who has the same essentials that she’d provide him, since she fully embodies these traits herself.

So I pushed her for a broader list, suggesting the more common ones we’ve typically seen:

“What about wanting the same type of relationship?”  

She looked confused. “Of course, that doesn’t even need to be said.  I’d never chase someone who didn’t want the same type of relationship I wanted.”  She then gave me an expression that implied “What a stupid question.  Who would do that?”  

I told her this was near the top of many lists, and added, “Haven’t you ever been in a relationship like that before?”

She was quick to respond, “Only short ones, but never long-term.”  Her expression continued to look perplexed. She didn’t understand why someone would stay in that situation.

“How about honesty?”  

“I’ve been with my husband so long, I don’t even think of it.”  Dishonesty is not a part of their marriage. “But if you asked me this 20 years ago, it definitely would have been on my list.”

“What about communication?”

This question caused a different expression, and she thought about the answer longer than the others.

“I should add this to my list.”  

She considered communication as: 

• “Being able to communicate our feelings.”  
• “He could express his wants and needs, and he’d want to know mine as well.”
• “To listen to each other and have a rational conversation.”  

Unfortunately, she gave her husband a “Fail” in this subject.   She continued to think about it, weigh it, and even rationalize a bit.  Then the verdict: “It may not be an essential.  It’s really asking a lot of people.  It might even get annoying.” 

Donna reached the age of 50 with a well-earned sense of identity, reality, and (yes) even acceptance of what a life well lived should look like. Maybe this attitude weighs heavily on the adoption of the Serenity Prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

While Donna’s need for communication is far from currently being met, she probably downgraded  it from an essential, and in fact later told me it’s not a zero out of 10 but probably a 4.  

This 4 was hard-earned.  She and her husband faced the end of their relationship, like many of us have, before seeking help to move beyond an impasse they couldn’t navigate on their own.  

They did a brief stint of therapy, and one of them now takes medication to improve mood and subsequently the relationship.  It worked.  It rounded sharp edges and allowed their relationship to grow and even flourish. 

Donna’s life wasn’t an accident; it didn’t just fall into place by itself.  She knew what she wanted, was willing to leave when it was missing, became the person she demanded from others, and sought help when she needed it.  It’s a life well lived.