I’m almost 55.

I’ve travelled extensively. I’ve looked for a place where I would want to live. I’ve dated internationally. I’ve created platforms that I hoped would bring people together.

And I still want to build a family.

That wish has been with me since I was about sixteen. I wanted many children then. Almost forty years later, I still do.

So here I am, looking at my life and asking: what now?

Looking for a place, looking for people

Some of my travelling was about finding a place to live. Some was about dating. Sometimes those two searches overlapped: meeting someone could make a place more interesting, and liking a place could make me wonder whether I might build a life there.

When I had plenty of money, international dating was easier to pursue. I could travel, meet people and explore possibilities.

I also created platforms. Most of them failed to become what I had imagined. Perhaps some were ahead of their time. Perhaps they simply didn’t resonate with other people. Perhaps there were things I didn’t get right.

I can have an idea, believe in it and put work into it. Whether other people want to participate is another matter.

That applies to relationships, too.

I stopped chasing

As I approached forty, I stopped chasing money.

I’m firmly convinced that money is the worst invention of our kind. I dislike how much of life revolves around it, and how often it becomes the measure by which we judge one another.

Yet I still live in a world where housing, travelling and raising children cost money. Disliking that reality doesn’t make it disappear.

I’m neither rich nor financially abundant today. That is part of my situation, and anyone considering a shared life with me deserves to know it.

I had stopped chasing women even before I stopped chasing money.

But stopping the chase didn’t mean losing the desire. I still want attraction, affection, intimacy and a family. I still want to meet women with whom those wishes are mutual.

Sometimes I wonder whether I’ve found a comfortable balance between being open to meeting someone and making too little happen.

Dating, here and elsewhere

I’ve never had much luck dating in Germany. I also have to admit that I’ve been terrified of dating here—and in many other countries in Western Europe.

I need to be clear about what frightens me: the possibility of being falsely accused of sexual harassment and facing legal proceedings over something that wasn’t harassment. Being sued when no harassment took place is no small matter, and the thought of it makes me reluctant to approach someone or express interest.

That fear is part of my experience of dating here. If I’m already worried about what could happen, it affects how freely I interact and whether I make an approach at all.

Dating apps in Europe have mostly been frustrating for me. In parts of Asia, I’ve found them much more useful.

Why? I’m not entirely sure.

Perhaps being a foreigner makes a difference. Perhaps my appearance does. Perhaps there is an element of white privilege. Perhaps I behave differently when I’m travelling, too.

I can describe the difference in my experience without pretending I fully understand it.

And attention, wherever I receive it, still leaves the larger question unanswered: could we actually enjoy living together and building something lasting?

Yes, attraction matters

I love beautiful women. I enjoy sex, affection and physical closeness. Sexual compatibility matters to me, including a partner who actively enjoys and initiates intimacy.

I don’t want to pretend those desires have disappeared because I’m getting older.

But attraction is only part of what I’m looking for. I also want kindness, tenderness, honesty and the pleasure of spending ordinary time together.

Travelling together is one experience. Sharing a home, responsibilities and the difficult days is another. I want a relationship with room for both desire and everyday life.

The family I still imagine

My vision of family is unconventional.

I would like to live with more than one female life partner, with everyone openly choosing that arrangement. I imagine a multilingual, multicultural household, children growing up together, and adults helping one another develop their abilities and pursue their dreams.

I imagine warmth, a home near the sea, land where we could grow some of our food, and a life built around love, honesty, fairness and mutual respect.

This is the family I imagine for myself, not a plan I would ask someone else to step into unchanged. Anyone sharing that life with me would need to want it freely. We would have to shape the details together, including how many partners, where we live, and what family means to each of us. If our hopes didn’t fit, we would need to be honest about that.

I’ve written more about that vision on my [family page](https://leoloveis.me/family/).

I know this makes the search more specific. Many women want a monogamous relationship. Others don’t want children, don’t want to relocate, or simply wouldn’t want this life with me.

I’ve often thought that younger Western European women wouldn’t date me because of my age, my finances and my family plans. But I can’t speak for every woman. What I can say is that I haven’t found the mutual interest and compatibility I’m looking for.

There is also a question for me here: how much of my imagined family is essential, and how much could change when I meet real people with wishes of their own?

I would need to listen to their answers as openly as I hope they would listen to mine.

Wanting children at almost 55

I want biological children with a future partner or partners, if we all freely choose that future and can offer a child the care and stability they need. That wish has stayed with me since I was young, but it cannot be a promise someone else owes me—or a decision I can make on my own.

At almost 55, I feel the time involved more sharply. I need to face the practical questions honestly: whether parenthood is possible for us, what support we would have, and how we would share the daily work of raising a child. Wanting to be a father is only the beginning; I would need to build that future with the person or people who would be parents alongside me.

I can’t keep treating the future as something indefinitely far away. I need to consider my presence, my time, my resources and my willingness to take responsibility every day.

The same is true of partnership. I have spent a lot of time thinking about whom I would like to meet. I also need to consider what building a life with me would actually feel like for her.

What now?

I don’t have a neat answer.

I still need to find a workable relationship between my rejection of the pursuit of money and the practical needs of the family I want. I need to come to terms with my fear of dating in Germany and much of Western Europe, including my fear of false allegations of sexual harassment, when / where there are none and their possible consequences. And I need to make room for a relationship to develop beyond the picture I already carry in my head.

I still want love. I still want a satisfying intimate life. I still want children and a home we enjoy sharing.

Being almost 55 hasn’t made those wishes disappear. It has made me look more closely at what I’m doing about them.

So perhaps that is where I begin: with my life as it is today, the people I can meet, and the steps I’m willing to take.

I’m almost 55. There is still a life I want to build.