I honestly didn’t think I’d be sitting here at 37 years old, still writing about being unmarried and childless. This just wasn’t part of my 5-year plan: engaged by 25, married by 30, and first baby soon after (ideally conceived on our honeymoon in the Maldives, perhaps in a hammock overlooking the water.)
This simply just isn’t how my life was supposed to play out.
In fact, there’s a scene in Amy Schumer’s new Netflix movie Kinda Pregnant that could have been ripped straight from the (yet to be written) story of my life. In it, a recently single Lainy (played by Schumer) meets up with childhood best friend Kate (played by Jillian Bell) to drown her sorrows over the fact that her boyfriend of four years proposed a threesome, rather than marriage.
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Instead, Kate drops a bomb: she’s pregnant. Lainy’s response was, well, familiar.
“NO! Get rid of it! No, I’m sorry I don’t know why I said that, I’m sorry. God, I just thought that I would have a baby first and you would like, wait too long and you know, try and adopt and that wouldn’t really pan out so you’d just get like, some weird pet like… off-brand like a ferret or some shit I don’t know…. But I’m SO happy for you!”
I have lost count of how many times I’ve had that exact reaction. Okay, maybe not out loud, directly to my friend’s face, but definitely in my head. The feeling of panic, anxiety…conflicting feelings of dread and envy but also happiness and excitement.
At 37, I sure as hell didn’t think I’d be the one searching “cute chinchillas” on TikTok. And yet… here we are.
A bit of background
I was 35 when I met The One. Before that, I had been single for eight years, endured one failed long-distance relationship, and frozen my eggs twice.
Then, on a sweltering hot public holiday in September, I meet the person who feels like home, who makes me believe that every heartbreak before him was leading me here, and suddenly all those enduring clichés —“When you know, you know” or “If he wanted to, he would”— start making glaring amounts of sense. But instead of pure, uninterrupted joy, I feel something else creeping in: urgency.
Finding love in your 30s
Falling in love in your late 30s is a fun little paradox none of us asked for. On one hand, you have the emotional maturity to appreciate the connection in ways you couldn’t have in your 20’s. You’re secure in who you are, you know what you want (and perhaps more importantly, what you don’t want), and you certainly can’t be bothered with the mind games and guesswork you’d had to endure thus far.
On the other hand, time is no longer an abstract concept — it’s a biological reality. And the clock is ticking. Loudly. So loudly that you find yourself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing you could find the damn thing just to rip the batteries out for good.
There’s an undeniable push-pull: you want to drink in the romance, take things as they come, just be — but there’s also an undercurrent of pressure. Marriage? Kids? IVF? Decisions that once felt forever away now loom large. So, how do you navigate this chapter without letting fear overshadow the love you’ve waited so long to find? Here are my thoughts.
Here are 4 things I’ve learned along the way
Learning one: Acknowledge the emotional rollercoaster of fertility
Let’s address the big, fat, elephant in the room first: fertility. As we know (because it is drilled into our heads on every platform, from every source of media we consume, whether we like it or not), by our late 30s, our egg reserves are on the decline. The chances of conceiving naturally are lower than they were a decade ago. That’s just science.
The fact that a (desperately desired) pregnancy for me, at 37, would be classified as a “geriatric pregnancy” makes me want to cry and/or vomit from anxiety. I can’t decide which reaction is more likely.
Despite all of this, falling in love should still be about connection, not just conception. And I think it’s important we all do our best to reframe how we approach these very real, very relatable thoughts of anxiety. Sit in the emotion and let yourself feel what many of us naturally feel: pressure and overwhelm.
If, like me, children are something you want, have an open and honest conversation with your partner early on, but don’t let the weight of the future rob you of the joy of the present.
Learning two: Have the hard conversations — without killing the romance
If you’re dating in your late 30s, gone are the days of playing it cool. Ain’t nobody got time for that, and transparency is key. But how do you bring up big life topics without making it feel like a business negotiation?
Timing and tone are everything. I’ve found that instead of leading with pressure — “I MUST be engaged by the end of the year”— I’ve reframed it to be a values-based discussion: “I see a future with you, and I just want to make sure we’re aligned on some of the big stuff.” This keeps the conversation open, rather than feeling like an ultimatum or like you’re backing them into a corner.
If marriage and kids matter to you, you deserve a partner who not only shares that vision but aligns with your timeline, too. It’s not just about wanting those things in your late 30s — it’s about when. That said, big conversations like these can evolve. Someone who’s unsure today might feel differently tomorrow. Regular check-ins as your relationship progresses can help ensure you’re aligned, saving you from unnecessary disappointment and heartbreak down the line.
I told my partner – Ned – on our third date that if he wasn’t interested in getting married or having kids in the very near future, that I “didn’t have any more time left to waste”
And I have absolutely no regrets in doing so.
Learning three: Learn that comparison is a thief
In a culture obsessed with timelines, it’s easy to feel like you’re behind. They say “Comparison is the thief of joy” – well, social media makes it near impossible to stop looking over the fence. As a general rule, social media serves as an endless highlight reel of milestones you haven’t hit. But love doesn’t follow a schedule.
I’ve learned an invaluable lesson on my journey: You are not late to your own life. What’s meant for you is happening at exactly the right time.
It’s also worth remembering that not everyone follows the traditional path. Many women in their late 30s and 40s are embracing alternative routes to motherhood, from egg-freezing (more on that another time) to solo parenting. The landscape has changed, and so have the options.
Try to remember that when you’re doom-scrolling.
Learning four: Embrace that late can be great
Believe it or not (and I know if you’re single and reading this, you’re about to roll your eyes) but finding The One in your late 30s is a gift.
Gross. Another cliche, I know — I’d heard them all before, too. But take it from me — someone who was in the dating app trenches for over 8 years — later love isn’t any less. It’s love, but with depth, wisdom, and intention. It’s knowing yourself fully before committing to another.
Yes, the clock is ticking — but love isn’t a race. It’s an adventure, and yours is unfolding exactly as it should.
