About CalmAfterStorms

CalmAfterStorms is divorced and is seeking males for friendship or a serious relationship.

Please Read This Properly
I am not hard to love.
I am careful because I had to be.
I learned safety late.
Not as a concept.
In my body.
So if you’re looking for chaos dressed as passion, I won’t feel exciting to you.
If you’re looking for intensity to replace intimacy, I won’t cooperate.
If you need constant sparks to feel alive, you’ll mistake my calm for distance.
But if you understand what it means to regulate, to stay, to not escalate you might feel something shift while reading this.
That’s the point.

Read This as Code, Not Poetry
I respond to regulated presence, not performance.
To pacing, not pursuit.
To consistency, not intensity.
Calm is attraction.
Consistency is chemistry.
Boundaries are safety, not rejection.
Slowness is consent.
Regulation is love in practice.
If those sentences make sense in your body, not just your head you’re who this is for.

What I’ve Learned (The Hard Way)
I learned that chemistry without safety is a trap.
That being chosen doesn’t mean being protected.
That intensity can feel like home and still not be safe.
I learned that my nervous system tells the truth long before my mouth does and I listen to it now.
I don’t rush.
Because rushing is how you override yourself.
And I won’t abandon myself again to keep someone comfortable.

What Music Taught Me (This Matters)
Music saved me before people could.
When words failed, music regulated me.
When connection wasn’t safe, music held me.
When my body didn’t know where it was, music brought me back into it.
I don’t listen to songs I feel them.
I hear safety in chords.
Truth in voices.
Regulation in rhythm.
Music taught me that:
intensity can be beautiful without being destructive
softness can be powerful
silence is part of the composition
timing matters more than volume
That’s how I love now.
Not loudly.
Not desperately.
But accurately.
If you understand that reference really understand it you understand me.

Who This Is For
This will land if you:
have done some real inner work (therapy, reflection, curiosity all count)
can regulate yourself without shutting down or blowing up
don’t take boundaries personally
value repair over ego
know that safety is built through behaviour, not promises
You don’t need to be perfect.
You do need to be emotionally grown.

If You’re Here to duck About, Don’t
This is not for:
thrill seekers
emotional tourists
men who chase closeness and disappear at depth
men who confuse desire with entitlement
men who get bored once things stabilise
If you escalate when things soften,
sulk when boundaries appear,
or need chaos to feel wanted
please don’t message.
That’s not rejection. That’s discernment.

What I Offer
Depth without drowning.
Warmth without chaos.
Honesty without cruelty.
A kind of closeness that feels like rest, not effort.
The kind that grows quietly and lasts.

And Because Life Isn’t a Therapy Session…
Yes, I’m a bit rough around the edges.
No, I’m not here to be polished.
If you happen to be a tall, handsome, emotionally regulated silver fox calm nervous system, decent shoes, good banter, and zero interest in mind games congratulations, you’ve unlocked the bonus level.
If you read all of this and thought,
Fair. Also… same.”
say hello.
If you read it and felt irritated, defensive, or bored…
honestly mate, the algorithm has done us both a favour.

Local only. Around my age (late 30s–late 40s). Must drive.

If you don’t have photos, I won’t reply.
If you live miles away, I’m not travelling.

Charlie,

What are your favourite leisure activities?

I like quiet spaces where you can actually think. Not loud, not full of distractions somewhere calm, where you can focus and breathe, especially if you’re with the right person.

If I meet someone nice, I need to take my time. I don’t rush first meetings. I need space to feel safe, to notice how I feel, and to let things unfold naturally.

This is difficult for me because trust doesn’t come easily. Trust is the hardest part and also the most important. I’ve learned to be careful with who I let close, and I need calm and patience to do that.

And honestly… sometimes people just need room to breathe.

What makes a good relationship?

A good relationship is one where I can slowly get close without fear.

Where someone wants to look after me not control me, not rush me just notice me.

I was in a relationship with my ex-husband that ended over three years ago now. It changed how I trust. It taught me to stay alert instead of relaxed, strong instead of soft. That doesn’t disappear just because time has passed.

So safety matters to me. Calm matters. Consistency matters.

I need to feel safe enough to soften.
Safe enough to rest.

Safe enough to be quiet together without filling the space.

I want closeness that doesn’t demand anything from me.

Someone who understands that trust is fragile for me, and treats it gently.

Someone patient. Steady. Kind. Someone who shows up the same way twice.

A good relationship lets me feel held without being trapped.

Seen without being watched.
Wanted without being pulled.
And maybe one day… I don’t have to be strong all the time.

Maybe I get to lean in.
Maybe I get to feel looked after and let that feel safe.

What are you looking forward to in the future?

What I’m looking forward to in the future is not living in fear.
Not being braced all the time. Not scanning, not preparing for impact, not expecting something to go wrong.

I’m looking forward to feeling safe enough to live, not just cope.
To trust without my body panicking first.
To relax into conversations, connections, and moments instead of managing them.

I hope for relationships personal and professional with people who understand trauma, boundaries, and nervous systems. People in roles where this is known and respected, not questioned.

I’m looking forward to steadiness.
To calm.
To a life where I can move forward without fear being the loudest voice in the room.