I WOULD be the first to admit that I’m rather old-fashioned when it comes to love and romance.

In my world, guys are gentlemen who ask for the first dance (yes, there is dancing involved).

They propose on bended knee, are handy about the house and can fix a leaky tap or a creaky hinge.

I am a Hallmark-card, Emily Dickinson-poetry, Meg Ryan movie-type romantic through and through. I love diamonds and I like them even more when they’re from my man.

Some may then wonder why my first choice of a life partner was D, who’s 11 years younger and is just starting his journey into adulthood.

He can’t afford the diamonds and, some would claim, isn’t old enough to be counted as a proper “man” – a guy who’s got a steady career (and a bank account to match), and who’s had enough relationship experience so he knows how to “handle” a woman.

Instead, I’m the one who takes care of most things – including his material needs – rather than the other way around.

Surely, I am often told, this is altogether a shockingly alternative relationship that supposedly demure, conservative me would be rankled by.

Funnily, I’m not.

Now, there’ve been tonnes of speculation from strangers and family alike about my marital motives, with most unable to accept that ours is a relationship built on connection and love, above other factors such as age, money and how a guy should “be”.

But, you see, D has given me so much more than what I initially thought I wanted in a husband.

When D and I met, neither of us were looking for a partner.

Our story is simply that of two people meeting, then growing to love each other, and getting married and having a baby.

What could this be but an old-fashioned kind of love, if you disregard our age difference and the fact that I bring home the meatier cut of the bacon?

Thanks to those circumstances, D and I are often labelled “different”.

Not that it matters, because what is real for us is that we’re actually pretty ordinary and, like any other young couple, learning about life together.

And in marriage, D continues to show me, day after day, that he’s a willing and able partner in my version of love.

He’s a good husband and father.  He supports me in our shared goals, and I constantly thank him for choosing me to be a part of his life.

In fact, I write this column as a tribute to him and our perfectly ordinary, imperfect life together.

Perhaps our ways are a little too groovy for other Singaporeans who can’t understand how life can work outside of their own set parameters.

But I’ll tell you something – having other people criticise and judge our relationship has in no way affected our self-worth or our love for each other. If anything, it has made our awareness and respect for each other stronger.

So, thanks, D, for being my faithful partner in life and learning. What’s love if it isn’t something challenging, something that helps to expand your horizons and open your mind?

And, to me, that is the most romantic thing of all.

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