At 73, I don’t share my home or money with my partner – and won’t be his carer

I’ve never shared a bank account and I’m not about to start now. I am 73 and am in a Living Apart Together (LAT) relationship with my partner, Asanga Judge, who is 83. He doesn’t just live down the road. I live in Harlesden, North West London. He lives in Pentrefelin, North Wales. That is at least a five-hour drive. Often, it takes him six or seven hours to get down here. We’ve been doing this journey for 13 years. Normally we see each other about once a month for a few days but there have been periods of time, like during Covid, when I’ve spent longer than three months up there. It all started when I was approaching 60. I’d been single-ish for over a decade and I found myself wanting to be in a committed relationship again. I joined dating sites; I explored Tantra, but nothing was really happening. Finally, in desperation, I did a week’s intensive personal development and Asanga was one of the volunteer staff there. I was able to declare what I wanted openly. He heard me and afterwards, he got in touch. Asanga had lost his wife of 30 years two years before and was looking for a relationship, but it wasn’t straightforward. I was very anxious. The distance enabled us to gradually get together. The slowness really helped me. We’re both unconventional. That also helped. Right from the beginning, I declared that I would not be moving up to North Wales to look after him. He is 10 years older than me, and had a serious mountaineering accident years before, which still impacts him. It may seem a bit brutal – I am from Yorkshire – but it prepared the terrain for a Living Apart Together Relationship. Shorts We’ve never discussed sharing our finances and I think that is a big reason that we feel at ease about staying together. I am leaving any inheritance – I own my two-bedroom flat – I have to my son, and Asanga is leaving his inheritance – he owns a four-bedroom farmhouse – to his daughter. Our waters are not muddied in that way, and both of us are happy about that. Three years ago – when I was 70 and he was 80 – we had a big birthday celebration in one of his fields as well as a ritual witnessing of our ongoing relationship in a fairy dell amid oak trees, fungi and live music from a local violinist and percussionist. That was more than enough for us in terms of ceremony and commitment. I think our attitudes to money also help us stay together. We both come from backgrounds where our parents scrimped and saved. We are not big spenders. And we both only have state pensions. He supplements his pension when he needs to from his savings and I still work. He is a retired GP – he was a locum rather than full-time – and I co-founded a social enterprise called Advantages of Age which challenges the media narrative around ageing and am in the middle of organising a conference, Rebel Later Life. To be honest, I’ve never shared a bank account with anyone, so I’m not about to start now. I’m fiercely independent and can’t bear the thought of having any restrictions on how I organise my money and spending. This financial independence comes with its own anxieties as we get older: we are both paying separate bills for gas, electricity, food, cars and more. And we could be sharing them. However, for me – who has survived financially on not very much for years as a freelance journalist and single mother – this is a small price to pay. And I feel that ultimately this independence leads to more shared happiness. More wonderful times. I think my pension is still slightly less than Asanga’s. The gender pay gap in pensions is well documented; men hold a median of £156,000 compared to £81,000 for women. I started a small private pension fund when I was 50 but I delayed taking my pension until I was 66, even though I was due to get it at 63. However, it’s not something I would dwell upon. I am more interested in my overall freedom – which includes my financial freedom. It is my absolute priority. I think I’m influenced my parents, who were married, and my father earned all the household money and had a pretty tight rein on it. I saw what a liberation it was for my mother in that way after he died. She was only 58, but she had financial freedom that she didn’t have before. Of course, there are moments when my energy bills go up – Asanga has solar panels and pays very little for his – when I wish we were sharing the financial burden, but they don’t happen very often. I have the sort of freedom that means I can travel with a woman friend to places like Ghana, Vietnam and this January, Northern India. Asanga has decided that he doesn’t want to do that sort of long-haul travelling any longer, and that’s fine with me. In the past, we went to Costa Rica, Goa and Indonesia together. And I live in the same city as my son and grandson which means that I can look after three-year-old Santi, once a week, which is a joy to me and helpful to my son and his partner who are also freelance. I wasn’t sure that we’d be able to survive this kind of unusual arrangement as we got older but we have. And Asanga has had some serious health issues – heart challenges, a hip replacement – along the way. His daughter has moved in with him which is a major support for him. And for me. Our time together is special and we can savour every minute on his porch listening to the thrush song or the great spotted woodpecker. I’m already looking forward to my next visit in a couple of weeks. Rebel Later Life: the ideas party is at Cecil Sharp House on 10 Oct. There will be panel discussions on ‘How to Redesign Your Life After 50’, ‘How To Have A Funky Funeral’, and ‘What It’s Like To Live in A Co-Housing Community’. Speakers include Lynne Franks, Lucy Cavendish, and Cathi Rae. The main sponsor is PensionBee