A healthy love life is not and should not be the preserve of

The words of Jerry Hall, “A healthy love life is not and should not be the preserve of those in their 20s and 30s. It’s important at all ages,” shine like a gentle flame against the cold assumptions of time. They remind us that love—true love, in its tender and life-giving form—is not the property of youth, but the birthright of the soul. For love does not grow old as the body does; it matures, deepens, and transforms. It becomes wiser, more compassionate, more enduring. To live without love, at any age, is to deny the spirit its natural rhythm, for love is the great sustainer of human vitality.

The origin of this quote lies in Jerry Hall’s reflections on aging, womanhood, and self-worth. Having lived under the public gaze—as a model, actress, and muse—she came to see how society worships the beauty of youth while overlooking the passion and power that endure in later years. Her words are not only about romance, but about dignity and connection. They stand as a defense of the heart’s eternal capacity to feel, to desire, and to belong. For Hall understood that love is not the fleeting thrill of youth, but a lifelong force that nourishes body and spirit alike.

To say that a healthy love life is “important at all ages” is to declare that affection, intimacy, and companionship are sacred medicines. The ancients spoke of this truth in many tongues. The Greek philosophers divided love into eros (passionate love), philia (deep friendship), and agape (selfless love)—and they knew that each form sustains the soul in different seasons of life. As youth gives way to maturity, and maturity to age, the body may change, but the heart remains ever capable of wonder. A healthy love life, then, is not merely physical—it is the intertwining of trust, kindness, and shared joy that keeps the spirit young even as the years advance.

History offers shining examples of this truth. Consider Eleanor Roosevelt, who, long after her husband’s passing, continued to fill her days with compassion, friendship, and a love of humanity so fierce it reshaped nations. Or Sophia Loren, who in her later years spoke openly of how love, in all its forms, sustained her creative fire. They remind us that affection, connection, and sensual vitality do not fade with age—they evolve into something more authentic, soulful, and profound. The river of love may flow more quietly with time, but its current runs deeper, and its waters are warmer.

Jerry Hall’s wisdom challenges the illusions of modern culture, which too often equates beauty with youth and passion with novelty. She calls us to remember that aging is not the dimming of light, but its refinement. A heart that has endured loss, joy, and renewal knows how to love more purely, without pretense. The love of later life is not frantic or uncertain—it is a flame that knows how to endure the wind. And when shared, it heals not only loneliness but also the fear that aging brings.

To cultivate such love requires care of the self—in body, in heart, and in spirit. A healthy love life begins with self-respect and continues through communication, affection, and gratitude. It is not about clinging to youth but about celebrating life. One must nurture tenderness as faithfully as one tends to health or wisdom. Love at forty, at sixty, at eighty—these are not lesser loves; they are riper fruits, grown sweeter by patience and understanding.

The lesson is this: never let time convince you that you have outlived love. To feel deeply, to cherish and be cherished, is not the privilege of the young—it is the destiny of the living. Let your heart remain open to connection, whether through friendship, romance, or simple acts of kindness. For love, in all its forms, is the great elixir—it steadies the body, clears the mind, and restores the will to live.

And so, let these words of Jerry Hall be carried like a blessing through the generations: love belongs to every age. It is not measured in years, but in tenderness. It is not confined to youth, but reborn in every act of care and courage. To love deeply, even when the hair has silvered and the skin has softened, is to prove that the flame of the spirit never dies—it only burns more steadily, more beautifully, and more true.