When I walked down the aisle for the first time at the age of 50 nearly a decade ago now, I thought I’d won the love lottery.No more dating. No more nights wondering if I was ever going to meet someone.As a single mother of four, I gratefully welcomed the end of managing holidays by myself, carting children around the globe plus endless luggage.The sense that I would actually end my days with this person was such a relief, I almost fainted.Now, I realise, I was wrapped up in a fairy tale, hopelessly in love with a man eight years my senior who could never truly love me back.Indeed, the best way of putting it is that there were three of us in the marriage.By 54, I was divorced. And, as I turn 60 later this year, it occurs to me how wildly differently I feel about love now. These last ten years have taught me some very hard lessons. I have endured some serious knocks. But from each one I’ve learned something invaluable about men, love, fidelity and compromise. I’ve spent a fortune on therapy – and I’ve even trained to be a relationship counsellor myself.This means I’m entering my 60s feeling more clear-sighted and, yes, hopeful than ever before.Here are the six vital lessons about love that I wish I’d known when I was 20...1. Do not ignore red flagsI have always been a romantic. I would whirl around, giddy in love, saying ‘I’m going to marry him’ after date number two. Indeed, I thought I was going to marry all of my exes.But this romantic streak means I put on rose-tinted spectacles when it comes to relationships, ignoring quite obvious red flags. As Lucy Cavendish turns 60, here are the six vital lessons about love she wishes she knew at 20 The love coach and therapist believes there is someone out there for everyone after dating all types of menI have dated them all: avoidant men, commitment-phobes, men who had an ‘economical’ relationship with the truth, men who earned little money and were happy to sponge off me. I’ve been with men who were quite obviously bleeding me dry.I had one long-term partner who was constantly threatening to walk out if I did anything to get in the way of his grand plans. I even paid for a brand new 4x4 car in an attempt to keep him happy.How often did I tell myself that these men’s shady, inconsistent behaviour was because of childhood damage and that, if I loved them enough, they would heal and then love me in return.The truth is, if you ignore red flags, you end up alone in a relationship: sad, abandoned, struggling with feelings of low self-worth and second-guessing yourself and them.2. The most important person in your life is youI think a lot of people find the idea that they are the most important person in their life very difficult. I remember years ago when I started my therapeutic training, we were asked to make a list of who and what was important to us.I probably started with my children, my family, my animals.It didn’t even occur to me to put myself on that list.I’ve spent so many years putting other people’s wishes ahead of my own. For example, my ex-husband was mad keen on boating holidays so instead of saying I’d rather sit on a sunlounger in the South of France, I spent countless weekends on a freezing, spider-infested narrowboat.I did it all to make the other person feel happy, safe and secure. But it left me feeling short-changed and resentful.So over the last ten years, I’ve started being honest with friends when I feel I’m putting in more than I’m getting out. I’ve lost a few as a result, but so be it. I’ve also become far more forthright with men. Now, I make it very clear from the start what my likes and expectations are. In that way, there’s no confusion and I no longer feel like a doormat.3. Love is amazingAfter my marriage break-up, I believed I would never love again. I was so hurt, sad and disillusioned. I saw love as something terrifying – I felt I couldn’t ‘do’ love. I just didn’t know how.But what I have learned over the last decade is that love is important. We survive pain. Hearts heal. I realised that if I hid away, I would never experience the sort of happy, healthy love I have always wanted. Lucy believed she would never find love again after her marriage broke apart, but now the idea of loving again has become central to her lifeSo I practised; I practised wholeheartedly loving people – friends, family, animals, even random people in the community around me.And, as I tried my hardest to be loving and not be destroyed or bitter, love started becoming increasingly easy for me. It flowed out of me to other people and back again.I started going out more. I met up with people I didn’t know. I took the risk of being vulnerable. Now I flirt, I date and I have let the idea of loving again become central to my life.4. Vulnerability is powerMost of us shirk away from showing vulnerability, fearing it will make us look weak.I had a lovely next-door neighbour in my small Buckinghamshire village who was also going through a divorce.I’d sit in my garden, feeling lost and bereft, and watch her friends and family appear with bottles of wine, cakes and flowers. I’d watch them all hug her as she sobbed.Yet this wasn’t the experience I was having because I was too ashamed to let anyone see that I was hurt and needed help. But allowing the people you love to care for you can be beautiful.Out of all of these lessons, I think this is the most important one.I’ve realised I don’t have to be my own cavalry coming over the mountain.When you are brave enough to share with a partner the things that scare you, you can build something real and long-lasting.5. Be clear about your needsAfter my marriage broke up, I was asked in therapy to write a list of my needs in a romantic partner. As someone who had spent the last few decades looking after my children and everybody else in my life, I found this incredibly difficult.But what a revelation it was when I sat down and started to write. Out came a long list around honesty, fun, joy, intellectual compatibility, similar value systems, commitment, dynamism... on and on it went.Building on this, I decided enough was enough with flaky relationships where I was constantly doing CPR. A man I dated last year kept cancelling on me the night before a date so I told him I needed someone consistent and he wouldn’t be seeing me again.Now, I am clear that I need consistency, decency and reliability as a bare minimum.6. There is someone out there for youAs a love coach and therapist, the most common fear I hear from those looking for love is that there is no one out there for them. I counter by saying that, statistically speaking, that cannot be true. There are billions of people on the planet and you are looking for one.What I have realised is that I don’t necessarily need The One.I have my children. I have my career. I have a roof over my head. I am not looking to build that sort of a life with someone.What I do feel, in common with many women who put their lives on hold and then emerge from motherhood and wifedom, is that I want to go out and have a lot of fun.I was reminded of this when I stayed out until 1am at Ronnie Scott’s jazz bar in London’s Soho the other night.Life for me is vibrant, full of new things. I’m singing in a band. I am taking a classics course run by Cambridge University. I am even learning Greek.Yes, in the end, I would like my person but, until that point, for the first time ever, I don’t feel defined by whether I am in a couple.I have confidence and self-worth, and I feel I have somehow discovered myself. It just took an awfully long time and some serious setbacks along the way to get here.