We shared a dinner and talked for hours; I happened to mention my car had a broken headlight and I needed the grass cutting. Days later, he turned up at my house with a lawnmower and a toolkit. I knew then that he was someone special. He proposed on my 50th birthday, just over a year after we started dating, and by then, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that we were meant to be together.

I was married for the first time when I was 24. I met him through a friend, and I adored him. Instead of telling me I couldn’t do things, he made me believe I could, and he was a wonderful father when our two sons arrived. But after 10 years of marriage, in the midst of busy lives looking after young children and caring for other family members, we split.

The divorce was awful, and I couldn’t see myself ever getting married again. However, when I became reacquainted with an old school friend, it led to romance, and he blindsided me with a proposal 18 months later.

I thought I knew what I was getting into, but it didn’t take long before I realised this marriage wasn’t going to work either. After five years, we also got divorced. I couldn’t ever imagine marrying again, but Wayne proved me wrong. When we tied the knot in July, I was more sure than ever that I’d finally found the one, even if it took me a long time to get there.

Here’s what I learnt along the way…

Knowing someone for a long time doesn’t guarantee a good marriage

I’d known my first two husbands for years before we wed, but it didn’t mean we were destined to last.

My first husband knew me when I was younger and living as a lodger when I came out of the care system. I wrongly assumed because he knew and understood where I’d come from, he understood me.

I was at school with my second husband, and he’d been friends with my late sister. On reflection, I was probably trying to reach to that connection with my past. We only dated for 18 months before tying the knot, because it felt as though I already knew him.

Wayne and I met on a dating app. We had no shared history, no mutual friends, but our connection was instantly so much deeper than either of my other husbands. I realise now that I had mistaken familiarity and shared history for a deep connection.

What you need from a marriage changes over time

I didn’t realise until I got older that what I needed from a marriage had changed so much.

When I got married in my 20s, the whole idea of just being married was a dream to me. Growing up in care, I thought people expected me to be a single mother living on benefits. The idea of a fairytale happy ending – having a husband and a house – was really important to me.

There was more to consider than simply whether I loved the man I was going to marry. I thought he would be a good father if we had children, and he had a good job that would mean we’d be financially secure – you’d be a fool not to consider those things before having children with someone. Even second time around, I had to consider my sons’ needs and whether they liked my second husband.

Now, since my children are grown up and I’m financially independent. I got married because I’m completely in love with Wayne, and can’t imagine my life without him.

You have to put in the work and acknowledge mistakes

When my first husband and I divorced, we worked hard to stay civil for the children. Now, with the benefit of distance and hindsight, I can accept that I wasn’t the perfect partner. We both had busy lives, and I put so much of my time and effort into caring for our children and wider families. But neither of us really spent much time looking after each other. You can’t take each other for granted.

I think we actually put in more work into making our divorce work than we did our marriage. We have children together, and that’s an unbreakable bond – we both worked so hard to make sure our relationship didn’t turn toxic, for the sake of the children. He’s a good man and a great father to our sons, and I can accept that.

It doesn’t have to cost a lot

My third wedding was the least expensive by a long way, even considering it was held 20 years after my first one.

The first time around, I had the fairy-tale wedding dress that cost more than £800 ($1800) – a significant chunk in the early 2000s. I spent a fortune, and my second wedding wasn’t much different.

Now, it feels like an unnecessary extravagance.

When Wayne and I married, the wedding itself really wasn’t hugely important; we weren’t bothered about impressing people. I bought my dress for £105 online, it fit like a glove and didn’t need altering, and my bridesmaids’ dresses were internet buys, as well, at around £30 each.

We had a reception in a hotel, which cost us around £1,000, including feeding 70 guests. Friends with nice cars drove us to the wedding venue, and Wayne’s father gave him his mother’s wedding ring to give to me. It felt so special; I really felt as though I was being embraced into a family.

Divorce is awful, but it is not shameful

Other than the deaths of my family members, divorce is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. It is a death in a way, the person you fell in love with and married has gone, and you grieve for them – they no longer exist. It was the pain of going through a split that made me vow never to marry again – and I don’t think anyone other than Wayne would have ever been capable of changing my mind.

I used to worry about how I would be perceived as a divorced woman. Even 15 years ago, there was a stigma attached to being divorced, or having a blended family. I think society accepts that more now, but I’ve grown to accept it, too. I don’t have any regrets – we’re all on our own path, and mine has brought me out exactly where I needed to be to finally meet the love of my life.