Two and half years ago I found myself in a sticky spot. A relationship I had been involved in for a year came to an abrupt end. I felt psychically and mentally unhealthy. My job, which was a major source of empowerment for me, turned sour. I was struggling to see straight.

In a nutshell I became super depressed. But, I had previous. I knew I had to take care of myself to get better. That there wasn't any other way out.


Firstly I smarted up my diet. I joined my local Slimming World, with the aim of gaining control of my very indulgent and very unhealthy eating habits. I wanted to lose 1 1/2 stone.

I also started to see a councillor. Every other Saturday morning I opened up to a stranger about all the things I felt.

I had a housemate at the time but I didn't feel too much fun to live with. Quite honestly I needed to be able to come home, take off the mask I wore at work all day and cry. He soon moved out.

As the months went on and the weight fell off I began to feel better. Soon I felt strong enough to job hunt. By the Christmas I'd reached my goal weight and I had a new job lined up.

At the time I was still experiencing depression but I was dealing with it, battling it.

In the January I decided I wanted to get physically fit. I was approaching 29 and I had my heart set on wearing the same outfit as I did for my 22nd birthday - only I wanted to look better in at 29. I started running.

I had previously dabbled in running but I never became fully dedicated. Initially I was running 3/4ks but by the time my birthday came round, late February, I was up to the 10k distance. I also started Pilates. I developed a sense of pleasure from exercising that I'd never felt before. I loved that during my run or Pilates class all my mental energy was focused on my bodily strength (and not my anxieties). It was one of the only times I didn't feel I was beating myself up.

All of these changes I had introduced really lifted my confidence. I began dating again. It was great dating. I would see a few different guys, nothing romantic - just spending time with different people, getting to know them and figuring out what it was that I wanted.

Soon I started spending a little more time with one; Mr Actually. I was attracted to his sense of adventure and his positive outlook. We would also spend quite a bit of time sharing our dreams in terms of lifestyle and family. We felt on the same page.

However. He was planning to go travelling.

Because of this I was super careful not to fall for him. I wanted people in my life who I could depend on, not people who would leave. Over a year we would see each other very sporadically. I'd put some space between us every time I felt I was getting a little too involved.

Over this time I lost sight a little of looking after myself. I was still running, just not as much as I had been, my diet was OK but difficult when you're in the throws of dating, eating out and cocktails. Quite honestly my focus shifted from myself onto him.

When he left in May I was quite certain I wouldn't hear from him again, despite him constantly insisting that would never happen. I just couldn't believe him - I wanted to of course, I just had to play it safe.

Two months after he left we were still in frequent contact. Texts most days, a call every few days. He would tell me how much he wished I was there with him, how one day we'll be doing all the things we used to dream about together. My resolve in not believing this guy began to soften.

He had always liked the idea of me flying out to meet him somewhere mid-travels. A break in his trip between South East Asia and Australia. He continued to mention this in the months after he left so I booked flights and started planning our trip to Bali.

I spent 3 months planning the 2 1/2 week trip. The closer the trip came the more anxious I grew. For various reasons; I'm not a great flyer, it was the furthest I've ever been from home and I knew this experience would be a turning point for me and him. Also I had started hearing from him a little less, I got a sense for what was happening. Also in the run up to this holiday I stopped running entirely and my diet was not at all very healthy - I wasn't focused on taking care of myself, I was too worried about what would happen after Bali.

It was very clear how he felt on day 2 of the trip. He explained that his plans had changed, that he was going to go to Australia for as long as his visa would allow and from there, who knows.

Quite understandably I was upset. I knew ironically that this guy, who I admired so much for his adventurous outlook, would be leaving my life because of it.

Due to my anxiety pre-Bali I'd packed a book my Mum had given me years before. The book, written by a Father to his 18 year old daughter, offers 3 pieces of life advice; one of them being positive thinking. Explaining the importance of always looking at the good stuff and not getting caught up on the bad.

Most days whilst away I wrote a pros and cons list in my head about my situation with Mr Actually. It went a little like this:

Con:
-He won't be in my life anymore, his texts and calls won't put that smile on my face anymore
-We're not going to do all the things we talked about doing together

Pro:
-I'm going to go home, date and meet someone new who truly does want to do those things with me
-I'm going to fall in love

I felt a massive turning point when saying goodbye to him at the airport. He was flying 5 hours to Sydney, I was flying 18 hours home. For the first time ever I didn't want to go home. I couldn't see what I was going home for. Yes there was my friends and family - but they would still love me wherever I was.

1 month after being back from Bali I still couldn't shake my need for freedom and adventure. I soon realised that I had met Mr Actually for a reason - my relationship with him took me to Bali and Bali made me realise my love for travel, freedom and adventure.

Excited about what was to come and in a bid for a new direction I starting reading self-help books. Initially it was The Life Plan by Shannah Kennedy, opening my mind up to the power of visualisation. Then I came across The Secret; the concept of the universe and positive thinking.

Within 3 months of being home I had a whole new outlook on life, a new set of goals and 2 trips booked.

Today I am feeling just as positive. The last 6 months have been the best I think I have ever had. I wake up most days thanking the universe for the day I am about to have, using affirmations to keep my mind on track. I get into bed each night and mentally write my gratitude list.

My strength of mind has overtaken my physical strength. In a bid to lift my overall strength I've signed up to a 10k run and have been regularly running since January. My diet is a bit of a struggle but I am determined to keep listening to my body and giving it the fuel it needs.

50 Shades of Single

You can tell a women's relationship status by her reaction to the newest 50 Shades of Grey ad. Excitement, distraction and lust equals married or might as well be and/or no longer having hot sex (if any sex at all). 'Meh', 'looks good' or 'he reminds me of Dan from the gym' uttered from the single and dating girls who, since the last movie came out, have been reenacting the most infamous scenes with their latest Tinder flings.

Sweeping statement? Possibly. Ringing home just a little? Most likely. 

Throughout my twenties I have undertaken many an investigation into the lives of my monogamist girl friends. I've been fascinated by sneak-peeks into their relationships; the pros and the cons, the good bits and the bad bits. All because you see, I am extremely concerned with weather or not I myself made the right call in my early twenties to be single and to enter the adult world of dating.

My latest observation stems from the reaction in the office to the new 50 Shades Darker film trailer. The girl who was most excited by this has been with her now fiancé for 10 whole years (by the way, she's 1 year younger than me - how are we even old enough to be with someone for 10 years?!). The hottest section of the ad being Jamie Dornan, erm sorry, Christian Grey slamming Anastasia Steel up against a wall in the shower, all naked and kiss-y and stuff. Their reactions made me wonder if these women (who have already marked the release on their calendar for Feb 14th next year) have ever even experienced sex in the shower in real life, let alone all that kinky stuff Mr Grey gets up to in that Red Room.

This isn't me confessing to all that I've been up to all that S&M type stuff. It's more me confessing to feeling quite satisfied with the sexual adventures I've experienced so far in my twenties. To bring it back to the pros and cons of marriage vs. single, I truly believe that I've had more sex than a lot of my relationshipped girl friends. And believe me when I say that says more about the state of their sex lives than the busyness of my bed. 

Maybe I'm wrong? I hope to god I am. I believe sex is such an important part of a relationship. It's intimacy at its best. It's love and friendship not to mention lots and lots of fun. Everyone knows it's always the best when it's with someone you love. If I had that on tap I certainly wouldn't waste that opportunity.

Let's hope 50 Shades Darker injects a bit of spice into the sex lives of these marrieds and that Ann Summers sees the same increase in sales as it did 3 years ago. Not just for the sake of those adorable battery powered rabbits but for the sex lives and sanity of those woman longing for a little Christian Grey in their lives.

Love and Ex Boys

I've had a breakthrough with Mr Rebelious. Trivial text chat turned serious when he told me he was glad we were speaking again, that he had never dreamt a month ago that we would be so friendly and that he missed me. All of the above I kind of agreed with - I am so glad to be talking again, for various reasons. 

Chat got even more serious when he admitted to wanting to be apart of my life. He said he was sorry for all the drama he put me through, he said he's not the same person he was... 

The explanations went on. I replied with honesty. I told him that I had only ever seen the good in him but he continued to hurt me, I explained that several boys since him have done the same and that has really affected me. I told him I don't trust my own judgement anymore, that I don't feel good about myself, that I really struggle to trust him even as a friend. 

Messages went back and fourth. Him saying he doesn't want to cause me any hurt, he said he always has been and always will be in love with me. Crazy right? Totally.

Being so honest with him has made me feel so much better about the situation. I flat out told him that we couldn't have the sort of relationship I need, I told him I am done with this pattern of falling for guys who are so opposite me. I know now that I am so attracted to those care-free, lazy guys because I hate the pressure I feel to be successful. I look for an outlet from all that pressure with these guys, but by their nature these guys cannot give me the stability that I also need - they are too just too care-free.

All of this has made me feel on a high. It doesn't matter what Mr Rebelious says how he feels, it doesn't matter if I believe it or not - all that matters is how I feel. I feel better this week than I have in months, 6 months to be more precise. I've realised that I am better on my own right now. I want to meet people, I want to have fun and go on dates but I'm not sure I want a relationship for a while. I mean that, if I didn't I wouldn't feel so good right now.

I miss what I had with Mr Boy everyday. I will always love him, I will always love all my ex boys. Those connections I had with those boys were real, they were special. Sure they weren't marriage material but they're a few of the most special relationships I have ever had. Yet...

 

A Crazy Blast From The Past

I saw a ghost on Christmas Eve. During festive drinks with friends at my local, I saw Mr Rebellious. I have not laid eyes on him for 5 years. I haven't heard a scrap of information about him for four - much to the dismay of my usually successful investigative skills.

After we broke up he got into some trouble, pissed off a lot of his friends and fled the area, setting himself up with a new life the other side of London. You'd think in this day and age it would be impossible to disappear - Facebook, Instagram, Twitter would give the game away, right? Not for this guy. He doesn't do social media, I don't think he even does the Internet. I later found out on Christmas Eve that he doesn't even have a smart phone. Crazy.

So the thing with this guy? Well, he was my second ever boyfriend, he was the rebellious guy I should have dated at 18, not 22. I would go out with him and his friends and lie to my folks about where I was, I would turn a blind eye to all the drug shenanigans and I never really referred to him as my boyfriend until after we broke up. We had a fairly on/off relationship, he would let me down all the time; when I went back up to Uni after nearly a year and half together he would tell me he was visiting, he would tell me he was on his way but he would never show up. I wouldn't hear from him for days. When he did get back in touch he would be full of the 'I'm so sorry, your too good for me blah blah blah'. I would give in after a while and so continued our destructive relationship cycle. 

So what was the hook? I honestly do not know. He has always been the one person I just could not help myself with. Every time we hung out I knew I shouldn't, I knew he was nothing but trouble but... I liked it. I liked that he wasn't sensible, responsible, boring - like me. I liked that he poodled through life, treated his friends (at the time) like family, I liked that he didn't care so much about the future like I did. He seemed fun, carefree and totally laid back.

So Christmas Eve, at the pub, in he walks. My tummy flipped. What I do know about him the last few years is that he has been through some really dark times and to be honest, I would never have been shocked to hear that he had done something silly to himself. To see him stroll in the pub just as he used to all those years ago bowled me over. My friend I was seemed just as shocked as I was when I told her I'd spotted him. I've told her so many stories over the last few years but had never been able to put a face to name for her. I wonder sometimes if she ever thought I was making this guy up. Hell, I even sometimes thought I made this guy up.

That's the thing you see. After you break up with someone, after someone who was once instrumental in your life just disappears, all those memories you have together seem odd. All those things that only you two know about; holidays, late night conversations, lovely sexy times, they do not seem real anymore. Just seeing him in the pub, talking to everyone like he had never left made me realise how those two years did actually happen and regardless of how he sees it, they were important.

It took me 10 mins to pluck up the courage to go talk to him. I was shaking like a leaf. Of all the people I get anxiety about bumping into, I would never have put him up on that list. After a little awkward exchange he asked if I was going to be in the pub for a while, he said he would come over for a catch up. I went back to my friends still shaking. Can you imagine the anxiety if I hadn't have had the four vodkas prior to all this?!

After another ten or so minutes he came over and we did in fact catch up. Within just a few more minutes we were talking like no time had passed since we last hung out. He said he hadn't been back for years and he confessed to being worried about the potential of bumping into me - he had not changed one little bit. I asked him why would he be worried about bumping into me. He said he wondered if I had become a bitch and that I might turn on him. Boy, if he could see how hurt I've been over the last few years, he would realise I could never be that mean to him. All the drama we had is nothing compared to my more recent heartbreak.

We reminisced all night. We talked about past holidays, past arguments, about me being so young and hopeful for the future, how I realise now how annoying that is. Funnily enough he recalled things a little differently to me. He remembered me being insecure, something I never like to come across as but something I have realised recently that I definitely struggle with. He said I broke his heart, that he really loved me, that he thought I could be the one to sort him out. I told him that wanted to.

Quite frankly I had the most fun I've had in months chatting with him. I'm not sure if it's because of the closure or the relief that he's doing ok now or what. I do know that I felt nothing but love for this guy, like friendship love. It filled me with such a warm feeling to know that this guy goes about his day to day life with all the fond memories of our time together just like I have. I guess it felt good to know that after all the drama, the tears and the pain, all that matters is the fact that at some point you loved each other and that in itself is pretty flipping lovely. 

When the time came to leave I kinda didn't want to. Remember, this was the most fun I've had in months - going back to my mundane life of worrying about how I feel does not appeal. He suggested meeting up for another drink some other time, he offered me his number and just like those times 7 years ago when we first started dating I knew I shouldn't. And, just like all those times 7 years ago I did it anyway. I took his number and I messaged him. Life's short, you gotta have fun, you gotta be a bit irresponsible sometimes. 

Funnily enough, just like 7 years ago he didn't text me back. He really hasn't changed one little bit.

My Summer Fling Virginity

It's official; I'm having a summer romance. 4 dates in and with 3 more already in the diary - I think it's safe to label it now.

I've never had a summer fling before but I've naturally always fancied it. Fun dates in the sunshine, flirty eyes over ice cold beers, smooching just as the sun goes down (it's already been noted that I have watched way too many rom-coms, so just roll with it). It's been fun so far and god knows that's what I need. There's just one teensy little thing... Of course there is, nothing is ever straight forward with dudes and me.

This guy is super eager. Just then, when I said 3 dates already booked in - yea, one refers to a festival. A FESTIVAL PEOPLE. That's a pretty serious date. As soon as one dates over he's on the text later that night pinpointing my next available diary space. It's cute right but I'm just not used to this. The kinda guys I've been dealing with lately have been the absolute opposite of that. I literally had to twist Mr CBAs arm to spend anytime with me. Friday and Saturday nights were off the cards and daytime dates were an even bigger no-no. I was reduced to weekday evenings only, if he even remembered we'd made plans. As for Mr Double Date, he was a little bit more up for it but only if he could fit it around the gym and it was slotted in the dating diary a year in advance. 

I totally understand what gods doing here, I see the irony and his sneaky plan. I moan for ages about meeting a guy who is a keen-bean, someone I didn't have to chase, someone who might actually chase me. And look what he's sent me. 

If I've learnt anything the last couple of years it's that nothing is ever as you imagined it would be. Sadly this dudes eagerness is throwing me off, it appears too good to be true and perhaps it is. I even addressed it with him recently, don't worry, I used a well thought through emoji to get the tone of the text just right. Firstly he asked if it was a bad thing, then he said that he doesn't have a lot of time and that he wants to make the most of it (btw, he's not dying he's just heading back to Uni at the end of the summer). Somewhere amoungst these messages he also admitted to 'enjoying spending time' with me. He also used a carefully selected emoji, you know the one with the monkey covering his eyes? 

My biggest concern with all of this is that perhaps it is too good to be true and let's face it (trying my hardest not to be the cynical old cow I am slowly turning in to), things generally are. I'm going with it though, perhaps he's right, perhaps summer flings are all about making the most of those few months of pub gardens and flip flops. Or maybe I'm gleefully skipping into a another massive disaster. 

The Cougar Club

A friend of mine has begun dating a 20 year old. She's 27. Yep, she's a potential new member of the couger club.

She caught me up on her latest gossip over a civilised dinner last week. You know, the sort of dinner with nice wine, no chips and a latte as a night cap; an adult dinner. The type of dinner adults have. When I say adults I specifically mean anyone 25 plus. A slightly different lady date than one might expect from dating a younger man (or should I say boy...).  

She met this guy, so she tells me, through a new group of 'younger friends' (her quotations, not mine). She didn't need to persuade me how appealing it is to hang out with the younger folk. I too struggle to find Saturday night companions more my age. Most of my friends tend to spend their free time with their lovers and quite rightly so. 

She tells me she hasn't persued any of this, that she has just let this happen and let him do the work and she said she's fully aware of the badge of honour he could well be proudly wearing (on the lapel of his buttoned up polo shirt) if he does succeed in his mission to score with this older chick. 

So what is the harm of a summer fling? She needs one, she deserves some fun in the sun regardless of who it is and indeed how old he is. 

The point I was very quick to raise, from my extremely feminist view point, was this; if this situation was the other way around, no body would be batting an eyelid. If he was 27 and she was 20 this blog post would be entirely irrelevant. Guys date younger girls all the time without the need to question their moral conduct. When I was 21 I dated a 27 year old and barely considered the age gap. I only ever addressed it went poking fun at 'how old' he was - which, believe me, if this young'un does to my friend then there could be severe   consequences...

When looking for reassurance or guidance or some kind of indication that what I'm about to do is acceptable to the outside world, I always look to my idols. And, if being a couger is good enough for Demi, Madge and Jenny from the block then it's good enough for my gal pal. 

To settle or not to settle

I'm contemplating settling. I recognise it's going against all my beliefs and pretty much everything I have been working towards for the past ten tears but I just can't handle the loneliness anymore. I've been weighing up loneliness and perfectness and the scales are becoming imbalanced. Perhaps it's time I just did what I think a lot of other lonely people do - pick a nice guy and just make do with a standard relationship.

Ever since I broke up with Mr Reliable (aged 20, a whole 7 years ago!!!) I have been in persuit of this perfect relationship. I have been holding out with hope that it or he will come along one day. Don't get me wrong, it's not a perfect guy I'm looking for, god knows I'm not that fussy, it's the perfect union thing.

So far I have spent my twenties as an idealist. I have been floating around wanting only the best. Not in a competitive kind of way, just with a you-only-live-once-why-settle attitude. I work hard for all the things I think I want, including this perfect relationship. 

Up until now only one guy has come along who I actually thought could fill that spot. I don't mean it to sound so controlled. The romantic part is that this so isn't controlled; this guy could be anyone! As long as I feel the thing I want to feel then it's possible, he could be (for want of any other words) the one. 

At 27 I find myself doubting all the things I ever thought I wanted. I'm doubting this perfect relationship thing too. Maybe I got it wrong. Maybe it doesn't exist. Maybe I'm running too high a risk at always being single and ending up old and alone. 

I know what your thinking. I'm thinking it too. It's the constant battle going on inside my head; if I am going to settle why didn't I just settle with Mr Reliable. That's the million dollar question. Mr Reliable would have been the most perfect settling down guy, but back at twenty I didn't know this! I wanted to find out, I wanted to take the risk, I wanted to actually get my heart broken (horrific but true, I even wrote it in my blinking diary!). 

If only I could add a voting form on this post, I need advice and opinions! As horric as this sounds, I sometimes feel like I fly the flag for all my in-a-relationshipped friends who sometimes wonder what would have happened if they hadn't settled. Up until now the results have looked good; I eat of Cath Kidston china for godsake. But suddenly this is not enough. I need a companion, a best friend, someone to argue with about wallpaper. Oh god. I think it's time to settle.

Generation Gypsy

A friend just sent me this very interesting article. If you don't fancy the read (although I highly advise you should) it pretty much explains why our generation, generation Gypsy (nothing to do with big fat weddings), find themselves unhappy despite all the successes we have experienced. The article uses this amazing equation:

Happiness = Reality - Expectations

This equation made so much sense to me that I kinda found myself wondering why I hadn't come up with it before, which nicely leads onto the point of Gypsy's being delusional... I also enjoyed the Facebook Image Crafting. 

Mostly I loved the article. It was scarily relevant. I am a generation Gypsy, my parents are Baby Boomers and my Grandparents were WW2 survivors. I do have unrealistic expectations with regards to my overall life, I like to think I am 'wildly ambitious' and I confess that I am deluded when it comes to life and mainly my relationships. 

However, I am not delusional about my career. 

I know, I know - I totally sound like this part...

'Even right now, the Gypsys reading this are thinking "Good point... but I actually am one of the few special ones"'

I do not think I am special. I do not think I am owed anything. I know if I want the career, the job, the money that I do, I will have to go out there and work hard for it. I certainly have never thought 'a great career is an obvious given for someone as expectational' as myself. I don't expect my career and life path 'to stand out amongst the crowd'. I don't think I am destined for something better - I just want to be. 

I suppose, to be brutally honest (which lets face it, I am most of the time) the trouble I have in my own happiness equation is not work related at all. It's much deeper than my career. As far as I'm concerned, my career is on the right track; I am proud of where I am but I recognise the long journey ahead of me. 

I am, however, disappointed by how my relationships have turned out. I did expect to be in a long term relationship by the time I turned 27 - who wouldn't expect that? I suppose, in that respect, the article is bang on. 

After identifying all of the above, the article concludes with three simple actions to follow along your life and career path:

1. Stay wildly ambitions

2. Stop thinking that you're special

3. Ignore everyone else

As I already hold this view point with regards to my career, perhaps I should apply these rules to the part of my life that I do feel disappointed by; relationships. 

'Mugged Off'

Without trying to sound like a nineties chick-lit cliché ; I have major trust issues.

It's never really occurred to me before. In fact, I don't think I had these issues with any previous boyfriend; I always believed what they said to me and trusted them. For the most part this worked well. It worked well until I developed this obsession with being 'mugged off'.

Being 'mugged off' is a term that has been thrown about a lot lately, especially since Lee from Blue led on two relatively unknown glamour models in the Celebrity Big Brother house. But I have been using 'mugged off' long before Casey wailed it in the Diary Room on day 5.

To me, being 'mugged off' means someone (usually a dude) intentionally telling you a porky of which you trustingly believe. It's not until you hear the truth (usually from a completely innocent bystander) that you even realise you have been subject to such 'mugging off'. This leaves you, me and poor glamour model Casey feeling like an absolute idiot. An absolute idiot to have believed a word that came out of his horrible little mouth.

This is where, I think, I then take it to the next level. Following the feeling of foolishness, I then feel like the upper hand is given to the lier/dude/scumbag. That somewhere in the world he will be bragging to his mates about how he played me, he he made me look so stupid! And stupid is the last thing I want to look EVER. This is where the 'mugging off' really gets to me.

I didn't realise any of this until I got talking to my new therapist, er I mean housemate. My new, ahem, housemate listens to me intently as I relay my latest boy stories and how I feel about them. He always offers such sound advice.

Recently I have been talking him through a few boy tales. Tales of guys saying one thing and doing the other. This, to me, is classic 'mugging off'. My fear of being the receiver of such behaviour has led me to dis-trust pretty much anything a boy ever says.

My irrational mis-trust has been even more boosted these last few days when my housemate confessed that boys intentionally tell porkies just to make themselves look good! Now, instead of just mis-trusting their intention with me, their whereabouts on a Tuesday night and if they do in fact even like me, I find myself also questioning their rather gallant opinion on animal cruelty or third world poverty!

I know, I know. I have taken all this a little too far. Sure, it's good to keep your guard up, to protect yourself a little but you have to let go of some craziness sometimes right? Is it a case of trusting until proven guilty or is it more a case of building up the trust. My therapist says trust is something to build and I suppose that's right. Let's just hope I don't find out my therapist has been 'mugging me off' as well.

Marriage

I'm reading Pride and Prejudice. I'd like to boast about my copy being passed down through the generations, but truthfully I got a kindle for Christmas and it's one of the freebies. There are tons of classics available for free download and I am determined to make the most of my two-hour-a-day train/reading time. Anyway, that's by-the-by.

For those of you who don't know the ins and outs of Pride and Prejudice, here goes...

It's around the early 1800's. Miss Elizabeth Bennett and her three sisters find themselves in their twenties and looking for husbands. So far, that's about it (I'm 42% of the way through, accuracy I can only thank to the wonderful people at kindle).

So far, I've learnt that  marriage back in those days was about much more than it is today. Nowadays marriage is about choice or 'marrying your best friend'. It is also much more focussed on the actual wedding day; spending 15 grand to make promises in front of your family and friends, with the back-up of divorce to reassure your doubts. Back in Elizabeth Bennet's day, marriage was equally as un-romantic, revolving mainly around assets and estates.

Jane Austin writes how Elizabeth Bennet is against marrying solely for the reason of money, how she seeks a marriage based more on admiration and love. Elizabeth witnesses her friend accepting a proposal of marriage from a Mr Collins, who in the previous chapter had his same offer declined by Elizabeth. (Oh, obviously there is a Mr Darcy - she has met him and she appears to hate him, but we all know that secretly she is in love with him. I'm yet to reach that part of the book).

So naturally, all this love/marriage talk got me thinking about our choices today and most importantly, my choices. I don't think anyone would admit these-days to marrying their partner solely for the reason of security. In fact, I shouldn't imagine anyone would admit to marrying solely for the reason of love either. I guess realistically it's a balancing act for all the traits you deem important when looking for a partner.

I've thought many times about the presence of perfectly suitable suitors (ha) available to me. I have many very decent guy friends, who no doubt would make the most amazing life partners. I can picture several of them impressing the family at Christmas, proposing in the most romantic way, holding my hand through child birth, picking up the kids from school and treating me to amazing anniversary presents. Thing is, as spoilt as it sounds, that's just not enough for me. I want that extra thing. That thing you read about it books. That connection, the love, the passion. That's why I am single. In a way I guess it's true what everyone says; I am too fussy.

I always joke about being attracted to losers. If you look at my last few boyfriends it is evident. But to be brutally honest, I think there is something romantic about being in love with someone who doesn't tick all those security boxes above. If I love them, I love them regardless of those things. For me, for a long time, love has been the most important tick box of all but perhaps its time to relax that rule a little - maybe I'm making a rod for my own back.

Or perhaps I have even more reason to do like Elizabeth Bennet and stick to my guns. Stick to my guns and keep waiting for this amazing love.

First Date Games

I have a situation. Of course, by situation I mean a boy. To be matter of fact, I actually have a date. A first date.

First dates are odd aren't they? A bit like a job interview really; 'What do you do?' 'Do you have any hobbies?' 'Where do you see yourself in five years?'. The first date is a job interview where neither one of you want to be seen to overly want to get. Both applicants are cool and aloof about the job on offer.

Of course not all job interviews, er I mean first dates, go this way. Sometimes you come across applicants who are mega keen. I've interviewed a few who have been very clear of what they want out of the job in question, namely a wife and kids. Obviously that kind of directness is off putting, well to me anyway. I guess even in a real life job interview the sucker-uppers never get through to the second stage. It's the ones who have that perfect balance of skill, attitude and confidence. 

This leads me to consider if first date games are an absolute necessary part of the dating process. Perhaps we need a bit of aloofness and lets-pretend-I-don't-even-fancy-you to keep things interesting and fun. Perhaps if two people met up in a swanky bar, ordered a couple of drinks and opened the chitchat with 'I really fancy you, will you be my boyfriend' the whole concept of dating would be ruined. This comes as a challenge to me. I am a heart-on-your-sleeve kind of gal. I tell everyone my secrets, I'm as honest as a nun. Dating games are difficult. This time however I am going to play. 

Perhaps I need to attack this situation like a would with a job (I'm pretty sure this was my downfall last time but oh well...). I think I want this job, I just need to find out a bit more about the, ahem, package. What are the benefits? Is there a lot of opportunity? What's the probationary period like? 

So my strategy looks a bit like this:

1. Aloof - I will not confess my interest in this job, I mean boy, oh no I mean game, oh god I have no idea. I will be cool as a cue, keep my distance, leave him guessing. 

2. Observe - whilst being my very unnaturally aloof self, I will sit back and look out for the IOIs (you remember my FPUA days right?). I need to keep sight of what his intensions. Which leads me on to my third and final rule...

3. A sex ban - that's right kids, no sex. It won't be easy but it's going to happen. I always fall in love with the guys I have sex with. I'm a passionate gal, I don't just have sex for sex sake, it's emotional for me. 

So that's it. My current situation will be battled with me acting like a don't care, whilst tying to find out if he does and keeping my legs shut. Sounds to me like I have this job in the bag...

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

One week today I will be opening presents, stuffing my belly full with turkey and drunk. Yep, it's that time of year; Chriiiiiiiistmas (are you now thinking of the Slade song? I am).

I like to enter into the spirit of any kind of holiday and Christmas is no exception. I love putting up my decs, eating out of massive tubs of chocolates and wearing the traditional sparkly tops/jackets/dresses. 

Christmas also marks the ending of another year and naturally we (or maybe just I) find ourselves looking back over the year gone by and looking forward to the one ahead. And quite frankly, what a year it's been.

Last Christmas feels like a blink of an eye ago. Lots of drinks, friends, sex... You know, those usual Christmas traditions (ha!). I realise it doesn't seem that long ago to me because I spent most of this year looking back to those dramatically fun months. But lots has changed for me this year - I have learnt a hell of a lot. 

Mostly I have learnt the importance of a super supportive gaggle of family and friends. I have realised the meaning of friends, that you have all sorts of friends for all sorts of reasons. That phrase 'reasons, seasons and lifetimes' has meant more to me this year than ever. I think, as with most things, looking at what you do have in your friendships/relationships works out much better than looking at the things you don't.

This year I have also learnt a massive lesson about stuff, about being materialistic. I love stuff. Always have. I used to hoard so much stuff in my bedroom, afraid to throw anything away for fear of one day needing it and for fear of missing that treasured item. In my adult years I have used stuff as accomplishments; handbags, cars etc. I wouldn't necessarily describe myself as materialistic, those are the things I go to work for, that I want to keep working for. My stuff give me a sense of accomplishment, a sense of self worth - is that the saddest thing to ever admit to? I'm not sure. I don't think so. Everyone has their own drivers, their own ideas of what they want out of life and of course I want the deeper stuff too. Anyway, I digress.

This year I have learnt more than ever the insignificance of all that stuff. I am grateful for everything I have worked hard for, everything I have earned and everything I have been gifted with. However, this year I realised how much I would swap all of that for love. I would swap everything for that one guy. My guy. Well, who the hell wouldn't right?

I've learnt a hell of a lot more this year too but these seem to be the biggys. I guess that leaves me contemplating my New Year resolutions for 2014 right? Well yea. Better get drafting the next post.

The break up survival guide

This weekend I have been consoling a very good friend going through a break up.

Whilst offering them my shoulder and sharing my recently learnt tips for survival, I realised how far I had come on my own road to heart-ache recovery. I found myself on the other side of the love madness. I sat for hours listening to the back and forth reasoning of how this could have happened, the reminiscing of the romance and the emotional hysteria of tears one minute and laughter the next.

I do not envy my friend. I did, however, feel inspired to collect my survival tips and to share them with the world (well ok, this here blog):

1. Head vs. Heart

I shared my emotional battle with anyone who would listen. I wrote many a blog post on how much I cared for this boy regardless of how much I knew he was a douchebag and how he was nothing but bad news for me; this is classic head vs. heart.

I think, that in cases of heart ache you should always listen to your head. Your head is the one thinking. Your head is balancing up the situation and telling you what the right thing to do is, the most sensible thing, the thing that will protect you.

And your heart? Well, your heart can be cruel. Your heart still feels the same way about that ex. It longs for that feeling when you used to hang out, when you used to kiss, when you used to be happy together. If you listen to your heart it will have you doing anything to get that again. Anything. Regardless of how sensible/foolish the solution is. 

2. Hope

I love this word. I love it so much I want to get it permanently written on me. You have to have hope in anything you do or what else is the point.

Hope however can sometimes be cruel. False hope is the worst. To hope that a near on impossible situation will happen is literally heart breaking. Clinging all your hopes of happiness on to a reconciliation with your ex will near on kill you. Instead you need to step back and focus your hope on happiness full stop. Weather that be with your ex or not. You have to hope things will get better someday, with or without your ex.

I found peace in the idea that if things are 'meant to be' then they will be. I had faith in that and in turn I had hope.

3. Nothing lasts forever

Everyone experiences down days. Everyone knows how it feels to be at their lowest. It's not nice, you can think the most tragic thoughts - but this does not last. Post break up you will feel horrendous; you have hours of desperation, evenings of tears, days of gloom but fortunately life always goes on. Things happen, situations change and nothing ever stays the same. So feel low when you feel low, it's ok, but do not lose sight that things won't always be that way. 

4. Time and space

I know, it sounds so cheesy right? But it's so goddamn true! Take it a day at a time. Soon those days turn into weeks, then months. Before you know it, nearly a year has gone by and guess what; your still alive! Your heart break didn't kill you and maybe there is some truth in that old cliche 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger'.

Hand in hand with time is space. Space without that person texting you or popping up on your Facebook helps you to come to terms with the reality of the situation. It helps you to focus on the most important thing; yourself, without any emotional upheaval. Space helps to clear your head (see, I said head not heart), to help you see the situation from the outside, to be objective.

5. Advice
You won't want to hear it. In fact, you won't be able to even process it. You will discuss your problems with anyone who will listen but you do not want to hear their advice. Their advice is probably the along the same kind of lines of what your head is telling you but that your heart is trying to drown out. It's ok. You have to go through this. When you're ready to listen you will and it will help.

I guess number 5 kind of makes this post redundant. Ah well. All this totally makes sense to me.

POF: Plenty of Fish

I have kept it no secret that I have tried many of the online dating sites. I have tried out Tinder and Match.com. At one point I was even using FB as a potential dating tool. I'll admit however that I have never seriously used them to look for a date. Sure, I've uploaded a few snaps and made a good looking profile (I am in marketing after all...), but then I just let all the messages and likes roll in, rarely doing anything about them. I've probably been using it as an ego boost. Well, that is up until now.

Online dating has lost some of the shame it once had. Well, at least it's popularity has improved in my social circles. Urban relationship myths are spreading around friendship groups like wild fire; 'I know two friends who met their new boyfs on Tinder' and 'The couple who's wedding I am going to at the weekend met on Guardian Soulmates'. It's these hopeful stories that are encouraging singles to pop on to the App Store and download the latest fad in online dating.  

So my latest is Plenty of Fish (POF). Well, actually I have been a member for years. Again I set up my profile but just left it hanging. I kind of forgot about it until recently when a friend wholeheartedly pushed herself into online dating using POF and I think she'd say it had been a success.  

This morning, on the way to work, I downloaded the app and logged into my old account. I updated my profile (up-ing my age bracket search) and away I went. Within minutes I had my first message from vnice2meetu79. Then a few notifications popped up on my screen, it seemed Jonnyboy147, Andy_pandy82 and Ben-evolent liked what they saw too (seriously, you could not make this shiz up). 

All morning my phone was vibrating with notifications for messages from these dudes. In total I had 32 messages, in just one morning. I had to turn off my notifications to avoid the (unwanted) distraction from work. I hate to sound ungrateful but it kind of began to irritate me. Instead of feeling excited and hopeful at the prospect of all these potential dates, I felt unrealistically bombarded with cheesy, suggestive chat-up lines. 

OK, I will give some of the guys credit; I did receive a few nice, polite messages with a little intro, but on the whole it felt weird. I am as yet to respond to any. I want to sift through the messages at my own leisure and seriously consider weather any of these dudes are worth the effort. Obvs I am just thinking messaging but I am the worst for (not) messaging when I really am not interested - it just slips my mind. 

I promise to keep you up-to-date and entertained with any strange messages I receive. Who knows, this could be a great success. At the very least it's someone to message, right?

The Relationship

This week I've been thinking about relationships. I've thought for a while now how funny it is that guys and girls can form amazing friendships with members of the same sex, some that last a life time, yet when it comes to forming that bond with someone of the opposite sex and taking it to the next level (e.g. sex), it gets so complicated.

I've always liked the idea that my lover/boyfriend/husband is my best friend; always there for me, knows me inside out. I suppose everyone deep down is looking for that that connection too. I think that level of friendship/relationship takes time though, you don't suddenly become BFFs with a newbie you meet at work, it takes bonding, shared experiences and probably tears for your friendship to be tested (not in a multi-question quiz kinda way but in a worlds strongest man way; a test of strength, stamina). 

Relationships come in all different shapes and sizes too. Some work best in each-others pockets, completely secluded in their own world, some work just as well long distance, without the need for constant conversation. When I think of all my taken friends I have observed how different their relationships are, not in a bad way of course (most of them are probably reading this... Ha), they just all work in different ways. The one thing I do notice though is that the basic principles are always the same. Perhaps it's because we've been conditioned by society to behave/bond in a certain way with a partner, or maybe it's even deeper than that. Maybe it's in our genetic makeup to form these strong bonds to maximize our lifespan and therefore our opportunity to pass along our genes (wow this shit just got deep). Or, lets go all rom-com and Richard Curtis here, maybe it's just magical (no, I haven't been smoking drugs).

I'm lucky, I have the most supportive parents. They are the most reliable people, the only people who are selflessly there for me. It's crossed my mind many times that perhaps their strength has set me up with extremely high standards when it comes to friendships/relationships. If I think back to fall out with friends and relationships it's usually because I feel I've been let down. Perhaps I need to consider the possibility that no one is as perfect as me (I'm joking obvs) - maybe these high expectations are preventing me forming the one friendship I really REALLY want to.

p.s. I've written about my Great Expectations many times before...

Single Pros and Cons

I've made an observation. I am the last single amongst all of my friends. I'm not being dramatic, all of my close friends are in fact paired off. How has this suddenly happened? How have I missed this? Well, I suppose all my friends were out getting lives whilst I was entirely distracted by and wasting time with Mr CBA.

I'm going to try not to be so moany and annoying about this potentially very depressing fact (see, I'm not bothered at all). I am going to try to not let this get to me, mainly because I am concerned that this here blog is only a few posts away from being a Bridgette Jones-esque memoir of all things single, size 14 and drunk. Also, as you all probably know by now, my emotional state at the moment is fragile. If I dwell too much on this I could quite easily go insane.

Yesterday a friend was telling me about a blog entitled fortydaysofdating.com. The blog follows two single friends who are dating as an experiment for 40 days, in the hope they break their self confessed bad relationship habits (they say it takes just 40 days to break any habit; smoking, over eating or even falling for dickheads). I have only caught up after the first few dates. At the time of writing this post they are only on day 16. I am really looking forward to reading what they discover and if, so the about page wonders, they do in fact fall in love.

This all got me thinking about the pros and cons of being single vs. hooked up.
Here is my little list;

Pros:
I can date/have sex with whoever I like, whenever I like
I can decorate my flat in all things Cath Kidston and Laura Ashley if I really really wanted to
I don't have to be home in time to put his dinner on
No Sky Sports
There is always the possibility that today I could meet the most amazing guy who I could fall madly in love with and spend the rest of my life blissfully happy
Sleeping alone in my big comfy bed

Cons:
Attending family/friends do's without a plus one
No one cares if your home from work or alive (my Mum doesn't count)
No cuppa tea bought to you in bed at the weekend
Having to take the rubbish out
Having to buy your own gifts e.g. jewelry, flowers, random electrical goods
No BFF who loves you and cares about you conditionally and entirely selflessly
Sleeping alone in my big comfy bed

When ever my relationship status becomes hot topic of conversation amongst smug married friends ("He's just a nob head with no nob!" "No need to sieve it; stir it Una") there are always a few that insist a relationship is not the be-all-and-end-all. That boys are sometimes really rubbish. After relaying my sexy senora story to another long term relationship-ed friend she confessed that she wished she could get up to mischief like that. Maybe you have to find a happy balance of single vs. married or maybe that's impossible. Maybe you gotta pick your box and stick to it. Truthfully I have no idea, but does anyone? We all make the best decisions we can at the time and slowly the days tick by.

Ultimately I guess all of this this simply boils down to the age old problem of the grass always being greener. 

The Relationship Black Hole

You will all be familiar with the situation. I've written about it before. It's frustrating but unavoidable. And here is the bottom line; your once single (and freely available) gal pal meets a boy.

All of sudden, sometimes over night, she's not so readily available. It is essential to book her up for a drink ('Three weeks on Wednesday?' She has his Uncle Richards 50th BBQ to attend this weekend, the following he's whisking her away to Bath). Sometimes her old favorite hang outs are no longer as desirable with her as they once were. Even when you do manage to drag her away from her boy (and his bed) her favorite topic of conversation is, in fact, him. 

I've experienced this first hand just this week. Twice this past week, with two separate gal pals, I have been squeezed in before boyfriend time. It's not like I even had to do the maths, I was told out right; 'Boyfriends at the gym until 8, he told me to poodle around the area and wait for him but I thought I'd meet you for a drink'. Obviously I was only told this once we had met up and ordered our first round of cocktails. This conversation was not a part of the arrangement texts. If it had been would I have been so readily available? I'm not sure.

There are two things that irritate me most about this. 

Firstly, it appears as if your once best bud who was there for you (and let's not forget, you for her), at the end of the phone, night or day to hear the latest will-he-or-wont-he-text debacle, is actually no longer bothered. She no longer wants to be involved in the exchange of boy-bipolar stories (but of course she doesn't, she doesn't actually have any of her own) .

The second thing that concerns me is this; who's going to be there for your single pal to pick up the (fallout/argument/breakup) pieces? The single pal, that's who! Mr Boyfriend will be out pissed with his mates somewhere whilst the single chicks re-group with wine, chocolate and more wine (oh, and tissues. Lots of them). 

This natural evolution of the single gal friendship is a fairly controversial topic. Every single girl (including me) runs the risk of behaving this way when she meets a boy and she will naturally expect her still single pals to be as understanding as she was with the rest of them. It obviously goes without saying that first and foremost we are pleased and happy for our newly monogamist friend, but just like mother hen we don't want to let them go either. We want to hold on to the memory's, the fun times, the ridiculous drunken stories. Not lose our pal altogether into the new relationship black hole.

I will keep you posted.


P.S.
Read my previous rant The Disappearing Singleton

Mr CBA

I have been meaning to write for quite some time. Over the past two months I have actually written several draft posts explaining the situation/my head/my heart, but I never had the inclination to finish them. Some of the writing however was quite good, even if I do say so myself. So to give my broken hearted self her little moment of fame, here's some snippets;

I've been quiet the last week or so. Funny my absence comes after a few smug entries about how good I was feeling about the boy situation. Well, almost as punishment from God, things turned sour last weekend. Surprise, surprise. Over the past week I have quite literally been mending my broken heart, damaged ego and all round confidence when it comes to the one thing in my life that i have absolutely no control over; men. 

What a hard pill to swallow; to be told you are just not amazing enough and that he simply doesn't like you enough...  I think I kind of needed him to be honest and blunt with me though, to sort of shock myself into the reality of this really not working.

I don't think I have felt rejection quite like this. Obviously we have all experienced boy rejection at some time in our lives; school playground, first crush, one night stand you thought meant much more... Previous relationships of mine ended because of me, because my feelings changed, I instigated it or I made the decision. This situation has entirely ended because this guy was simply just not that into me.

The biggest upset for me isn't the fact that I won't be hearing from him pretty much everyday or seeing him once a week... The thing that makes me the saddest is that I feel such a fool. I feel such a fool for letting my heart rule my head, yet again. I thought I had learnt that lesson back with Mr Rebellious. I feel a fool for ignoring all the warning signs, all the He's-Just-Not-That-In-To-You signs that I pretty much wrote the rules for. I feel a fool for thinking this was anything more that what it was.

So your pretty up to speed? For the last two months I have been battling all sorts of other drama too, drama that I really do not want to bore you with right now. I have also been struggling to get back to the old me. You know, the one who would be texting loadsa boys and not give a teeny tiny shit.

Thing is I feel like a lot has changed since then, I'm a birthday older for one thing and all my friends are actually pairing off and talking about living together, weddings and caravans (that's another story). All of a sudden I find my irresponsible boy stories from last year all a bit out of place. People aren't finding them entertaining anymore, I actually think people are starting to pity me and my single existence. Which is all fine of course because quite honestly I pity myself too. To be brutally honest I also feel a bit embarrassed. I feel like people are beginning to wonder what is wrong with me that I cannot seem to find and hold on to a man. 

My old routine/life feels so alien. Driving into work, chitchatting about him all day and worrying about weather he's text or not, it all seems such a long time ago. I still obsess about him of course but just in my head, at least then I have no witnesses to my crazy. I still see him too which is absolutely heart breaking. The only saving grace is that he has no idea. He is so stupid he would never notice how upset I was, even if I served him his pint in floods of tears.

I think its getting easier though. I still think about him when I'm trying to get to sleep and I have moments of madness where I wish I could text him to tell him I miss him, but then my brain kicks in to protect my heart and says that there's just no point, he literally CBA. Then I begin to feel the idiot again who once upon a time thought he did care. And so the crazy kicks in...

Great Expectations

I'm sure I've mentioned before that I have horrendously high expectations. I expect far too much from friendships, relationships, my career and whilst attempting not to sound too dramatic; life. When I was younger I imagined myself as an adult with an incredible job, loads of friends and a fantastic dating/boy life. I guess I just imagined things would be all rosy.

Where does all this come from? Who knows. Recently I've seen lots of comedy Facebook status' and pins on Pinterest blaming Disney for women's high expectations when it comes to things like boys (and of course, hair). I guess they could be held a little responsible. And if Disney are a little at fault I guess so are Chick-Lit writers, Rom-Com directors and Patrick Swayze.

It's not just me who expects a boy to fall madly in love with me, climb up a fire escape with a bunch of red roses and snog my face off whilst a classic 80's tune plays in the background, loads of other girls want that too. Why do you think we keep reading those shitty novels where we all know the ending and keep watching those shitty films that make us cry; we want our happy ending.

At 26, I now feel in a place where I need to manage my ridiculously high expectations of men, before they are all discarded to the he's-lush-but-he-just-can't-dance-the-mirange scrap heap. After spending 2 years of my early twenties with a guy who I felt at the time made no effort, I thought I deserved much more; I thought I deserved the perfect guy who met all my expectations. I was not going to settle for less. Two and half years on, I am still single.

Firstly I don't actually think there is a guy out there who checks everything off my list; teeth, triangle, brains, height, funny, Kardashian lover, wine drinker... The list goes on, obviously. It's near on impossible to find this guy. Secondly, say just for one second he is out there, do I even deserve this guy?! Perhaps I am not good enough for this near on perfect guy, maybe I'm awful.
So perhaps I should start to think about which expectations I can let go off or at least be lenient with. What can I let slide with the guy I actually quite like. A sort of expectation priority list.

Probably number one on my expectation list is reliability. People or guys who let me down really get my goat; if we make plans we do it, if I plan something I mean it. I struggle to be lenient here. This is a biggy for me. I can however be lenient on texting; I'm alright not hearing from you for a few days, it's cool, what would we chit-chat about anyway? I can do funny, witty texts but I struggle with conversational messages. There is only so many times you can ask What are you up to today? Drinking I'm ok with, who am I to lecture anyone about excessive nights on wine/beer/Jaegerbombs anyway. Drugs? A step too far, massive no-no.

I could go on forever. The point is sometimes you have to let some your expectations of relationships, jobs and life go. By holding on to them you go a little crazy and most importantly risk missing out on something amazing that you hadn't quite imagined or expected. Sure, keep your standards but just keep those great expectations in check.

The Disappearing Singleton

Recently I have been observing something I have not experienced for a very long time. Not since the days of my first school romance with Mr Reliable have I felt this way. I am sure you have all experienced this too at one time or another, perhaps it has even been you acting this way.

You know when your gal pal meets a new guy and she quickly disappears off the raider? She's not available for a midweek glass of wine at the drop of a hat anymore, you might have to book her up a whole week in advance - the cheek of it! She might also be slow at texting back; funny how love affects the texting skills.

I have had countless friends disappear into their lovely new relationship. It's not just girls either, boys do it too, actually I sometimes think boys are worse than girls. I like to think of myself as an understanding friend who would never blame any friend for doing this. I sort of think that if that were me I would want my friend to be understanding of my reasons. This honeymoon phase doesn't last that long anyway. Give it a few months or maybe a year and your pal will realise she has been too focused on herself. It's cool. If she doesn't come back to you or if your not supportive of her then the bottom line is your not that good friends.

There is another thing that I have witnessed that happens almost simultaneously when your friend starts dating the right guy as opposed to all those wrong ones. When she meets Mr Right she stops sharing the juicy sex details and you never hear her complain about him not texting her back. It's almost as if things are so perfect she has nothing to talk about (by talk I obviously mean the thing that we girls do best, that's moan). When you finally get hold of your gal pal and book a drink or dinner in for two weeks on Thursday (when the new boyf is away, obvs) she spends the entire evening with a sickly smile plastered across her face and puts a positive spin on EVERYTHING.

Recently I caught myself disappearing a little.

Obviously I am not claiming to have met Mr Right but I think I have met a Mr Right Now. I haven't had a boy in my life like this for quite some time. The last few times I have met up with the girls I have heard the phrase 'oh your just loved up' and more than once let me tell you. I pride myself in never putting bros before hoes and I have always been really good at it. I am independent when it comes to things like friends and socialising, even when in a relationship, but boy am I finding it hard this time round to juggle all things friends and boys.

I have always been determined not to become one of those smug married types. You've all seen Bridget Jones' diary. The bit where she goes alone to the dinner party with a thousand loved up couples and they interrogate her into the working mind of a 30 year old singleton. In a funny sort of way I looked up to her. For most of my early twenties I wanted to be single and man-less just so I could say 'Nope, I don't need a man, women can be cool AND single'. I think that's why I loved Sex and The City so much, they were all very cool and very single for most of the 6 seasons. But surely I can have a boy and still champion the rights for the single women? Beyonce does it. Also my dream of becoming Bridget Jones could still be realised one day.

I suppose this singleton dissapearing act is a bit like the fairy tale ending 'and they lived happily ever after'. Which is lovely and probably something my Mum really wishes for me but I don't think it will happen this way for me. I think no matter my relationship status I will also be a little bit of a singleton.