How Do We Find Our People Later in Life?

I recently did something that would have horrified my younger self. At 76 years old, I looked into a dating site. Now, before anyone gets too excited, let me assure you that I was not suddenly transformed into a glamorous online flirt. My profile still contained references to books, documentaries, foreign movies, and probably a dog. I described exactly who I have always been.

A profile caught my attention. The man described enjoying reading, documentaries, quiet conversation, and even basketball. He seemed thoughtful, curious, and content with a peaceful life. For a few days, I found myself thinking, "Now that's interesting."

Then I started noticing little inconsistencies in his story. One detail didn't quite match another. A little more digging raised more questions. Shortly after I questioned him about something he said that was not quite right, the profile disappeared altogether.

So much for my great online romance. But here's the strange thing. The experience left me thinking about something entirely different. Why had that profile appealed to me so much? It wasn't the photograph. It wasn't his career. It wasn't even the possibility of romance.

It was recognition. For a moment, I thought I had found someone who spoke the same language I do. Curiosity. The language of people who get excited about a documentary, a museum exhibit, a strange historical fact, a photograph, a good book, or a rabbit hole they accidentally discovered while looking up something entirely different.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that many of us spend our later years looking for exactly that. Not necessarily a spouse or even a new BFF.

Our people.

I know several women, like myself, who have moved after retirement. Some downsized. Some relocated closer to family. Some moved into apartments or retirement communities where neighbors come and go over the years. They have met plenty of nice people. They have coffee friends. They have activity friends. They have neighbors they wave to in the hallway.

But they still haven't quite found their people. The people who make them think, "Oh, there you are." The people who understand their odd collection of interests without needing to explain. The people who laugh at the same strange observations. The people who make them feel a little less unusual.

For years, I quietly assumed there couldn't be many people interested in the same odd assortment of things that fascinate me. Then a fake dating profile accidentally taught me something. Maybe there are more of us than I thought. Maybe finding our people is less about age and more about curiosity. Maybe the challenge is not that they don't exist. Maybe the challenge is finding where they gather. And perhaps that's one of retirement's unexpected adventures. Not finding ourselves. Finding each other.

Have you found your people? If so, where did you find them? Online? Through a hobby? Moved three times and never found them? Still looking?  Me, too.