Posted in Relationships, Single Life

What we’re looking for.

 

Trying to work out what I want from a relationship has been tricky, and through making mistakes in dating people, I’ve mainly discovered what I don’t want.  But on Saturday night I figured it out with a friend.  What I want is balance.

I want someone who balances with me:

  • They have similar life aspirations
  • They are at the same stage in their life
  • They have similar outlooks for life
  • They have a similar attitude about a social life and maintaining a work / life balance

This follows from another bad date this weekend.  Having spoken for only a handful of days, and seeing only one photo of Mr Fake, I didn’t have my hopes up.  But I can’t complain about being single if I’m not being proactive in pursuing a relationship.  When he approached me at our meeting point, I was a little shocked, he was not this tall, slim, tanned man I was anticipating on meeting.  Quite the opposite.  Not one for being rude, I was polite and chatty and we had a few drinks in Camden Lock, in the lunchtime sunshine.  There was no chemistry.  His kind and intelligent personality sadly didn’t make up for the fact that I felt totally tricked into a meet up.

I discovered he isn’t one for a social life, and work takes up all of his time (and I got the impression this was because he allowed it to, rather than by necessity).  The chat wasn’t my style; it was forced at times and I felt judged for being hungover post-Shoreditch party.  He referred to himself as ‘an old man’.

Ermm… no thanks.

We wouldn’t have worked, even if I felt compelled to try.

Because weren’t balanced.

 

 

Posted in Relationships, Single Life

A sexual history by numbers

1. We were together for 7 years.  Pretty wonderful, really.

2.  This was a little weird.  A different man’s body.  You were so fucking awkward afterwards.

3 and 4.  A fun night all around…

5.  The first one-night stand.  Nothing was okay about this.

6.  Gorgeous, younger.  A complete laugh.  We would continue hooking up over the rest of my time at Uni.

7.  It was a toga night.  The next morning you refused to leave in your toga.  I recruited housemates to help boot you out.

8.  A bi girl and a bi guy.  We had a lot of fun.  And it was weirdly romantic for a one night thing.

9.  You were a friend of a friend.  Good looking, fab body and an all-round cool guy.

10.  Oh Brighton.  This is when I knew I had to live here.  Hands-down the best sex to date – including, but not limited to – laughter, falling-off the bed, roughness, tenderness and constant, constant sex.

11.  Oh how the mighty have fallen.  The 3-day sex jaunt we had planned was shattered as soon as I saw you waiting for me at the station.  What.  Was.  I.  Thinking?!

12.  I can barely remember you.  But I do know that you had a big bath (a rarity in University housing) – and this is what I needed to help my kidney pain.  Thanks for letting me use your bath…

13.  We were very drunk.  We slept together.  We haven’t spoken since.  Definitely learnt my lesson to not sleep with a straight girl.

14.  Phwoar.  Personal trainer, boxer, lifeguard, beautiful human.

15.  Not so.  But a kind, fun guy.

16.  We met in a Brixton club and all the signs were there for this to be an excellent start to a phenomenal relationship.  Until you didn’t text.

17.  Once again, not a good one.  Regret?  Maybe.

18.  This was Prince Charming (see ‘It’s been a long, hot summer…‘).  Hot, hot stuff.  Then I discovered more about your personality.  Still…

19.  A rebound.  No fire between the sheets.

20.  A drunken decision.  But one we kept making again and again.

21.  Best mates / Fuck-buddies.  I’m keeping my fingers crossed this could be more.

Posted in Future, Relationships, Single Life

I gave it another shot.

I know getting back with you was a risky move.  No one supported my decision, and at times, I majorly regretted starting things up again.

 

Round Two started after I wrote you my letter.  I asked you to make the effort.  And you did.  On a quiet Sunday evening, you phoned me up and asked if I wanted to go for dinner as a date.  You started to say it was fine if I wanted to keep things going as friends but then you told the truth; that wouldn’t be fine – you really wanted me to accept your offer.  You told me you’d changed: you said you realised you had been lazy last time and felt comfortable so stopped making the effort.  This was everything I had wanted to hear all summer.  So we went on our date and things escalated.

As predicted, you were irritating me even from the beginning of Round Two.  But I remained optimistic.  I took a step back, enjoyed us for what we were.  We were having fun and you were making me happy.  I made us happen because I wanted you.  You made us happen because you needed me.

Even our frank conversations helped us to feel closer with one another.  We were honest for the duration of Round Two.  But unfortunately you were in deeper.  You wanted (want?) to spend your life with me; and I wish I wanted that too, but it wasn’t going to work – and I knew that from the beginning.  I’m sorry things ended again, but this really is for the best.  Imagine if we had moved in together and married and had babies…

  • Firstly, my family and friends would have disowned me
  • I’d have driven you crazy
  • You’d have driven me crazy
  • Either  Both of us would have cheated
  • You’d beat me up
  • Our children would be miserable
  • We would be miserable
  • Divorce would be messy
  • I’d have tonnes of debt (of course you’d be living off my salary)
  • We’d be 40 and single
  • And my parents would have said, ‘We told you so’.

A lucky escape for both of us, I reckon.

Selfishly, I had to participate in Round Two; I needed to know my decision was the right one.  Sorry.

Posted in Future, Relationships, Single Life

This isn’t a practice run.

There really is just one chance to get your life ‘right‘, isn’t there?  You can’t just ‘have a go’ and hope for the best and hey, if it goes tits up, oh well – try again next time.  I’m 25 and don’t have a partner and the scary thing is there is no way of knowing if I’ll definitely be married by 30, 45, 60..!

What if I’m still single in 20 years’ time?  Then what?

By then, it may be a little late for a Plan B…

Posted in Dating?, Future, Relationships, Single Life

Let’s not beat around the bush.

In dating and relationships, I’m a real advocate of ‘honesty is the best policy’.  It’s not fun hearing someone isn’t into you, but at least you know.  It’s not fun admitting a relationship has run its course, but at least you aren’t clinging onto false hope.  It’s not fun accepting the possibility that you might never find Prince Charming, but at least you can get on with your life rather than idly waiting around.  When I was well-and-truly single a few months ago, I really had accepted the fact I might not find someone for a while (at least not on Tinder).  It was shitty at first, but it meant I spent more time making plans with friends than sitting on my arse on the sofa, swiping through pictures of random men.  Now I’m sort of back together with my ex (shhh, I know…), I’m viewing the relationship from a vantage point; this is Round 2; an opportunity to make a few changes and see what happens.  At first, Round 2 seemed to be a winner – we were jumping through hoops and scoring top marks, and when the going got tough, we’d take a step back, press pause then resume at a more convenient time.  This seemed to be a fab solution to a temperamental relationship.  Everything ran smoothly until he fell harder.

We’re no longer on the same page.  I’m continuing to take our relationship day-by-day.  He’s thinking very long-term.

have been honest with him.  I said, “You make me happy, and I’m going to keep doing what makes me happy until it doesn’t make me happy anymore.”

He said this seems very short-term and like I’m not planning far ahead.  Yep, that’s true and I told him so.

Recently, on a Saturday night, our different stances on future plans blew up.  He told me how committed he is and how he wants to spend his with life me, marry me, raise children – the works.  I played my trump card; I openly stated that I will not live with, marry, or raise children with someone who is an alcoholic and drug-dependent.  Naturally, he didn’t like that comment, but we went on to have a frank discussion about the future and we seem to be back on the same page.

 

Posted in Relationships

No really, I don’t need you.

I think it’s much better to be wanted than needed.  

But is it rude to tell someone you don’t need them?  

Here’s why I don’t need you:

  • I can cook
  • I can clean the house
  • I drive myself around
  • I can sort car issues out
  • I have my own social life
  • I’m not afraid to go to a restaurant alone
  • I can zip my dress up (and unzip it) on my own
  • I can change the light-bulb if I balance on a chair
  • I can assemble furniture on my own
  • I can fix a broken fridge
  • I can rewire a plug
  • I can work out why the TV isn’t working
  • I earn my own money.

 

So when I say I don’t need you, it’s a compliment; I want you in my life.

But when you say you need me, I am filled with sadness, even though you think you’re being kind.

  • I support you

  • I make you a better person

  • You need me

So the reasons you’re with me are for your own benefit?  Not because I make you happy, or we have a laugh together, but because I help you be a better version of yourself.

Cheers.

And telling me that I’m ‘amazing’ and that you love me every day isn’t enough.  You need to bloody prove it.

 

So now it feels I’m back where I was.  But at least I’ve remained less attached and can see the whole picture.

Posted in Relationships

Just look at me.

For this post, let’s park social anxiety disorders to the side.

Stop avoiding eye contact.  Look me in the eye when you talk to me.  Show me you care.  Stop thinking about something else.  Stop thinking about someone else.  Stop thinking about you.  Look at me.  Show me that you fancy me.  Show me the lust that I show you.  Stop looking at yourself in the mirror.  Stop staring at your reflection.  In fact, stop eyeing yourself up.  Providing there are no mirrors or glass about, you look at me.  Back-up what you say with your actions.  Just look at me.

Posted in Friends, Relationships, Single Life

A letter to my ex.

Dear You,

The summer was confusing.  I missed you and you confessed you still loved me.

We nearly met up to see if we could rekindle things.  We didn’t meet – thank God.  Being friends wasn’t going to happen, was it?  At least not yet.  Any anyway, I was seeing someone (admittedly I wasn’t as invested as I would have liked to have been), but even if I wasn’t the residual feelings we had would have fucked any glimpse of a platonic relationship.  Then we had our phone call.  That was bad, wasn’t it?  You annoyed me so much.  I know I was in the wrong for inviting then uninviting you, and I get that you laid your heart on the line and then retracted it, because I might have dumped you again.  And you were right.  I was willing to give it another shot, knowing we could break up again if it didn’t quite work out.  Not my kindest hour…

Then we stopped talking again.  Total silence for a few months.  Even when I was in hospital I didn’t hear from you.

That was shit.  It pissed me off and it upset me.

You were with me throughout the year when I was undergoing tests and finding out what was wrong.  Hence why I dropped you a text the other day with the gist of: ‘FYI: I’ve had my op – all fine.  Hope you’re well’.  The messaging back and forth was lovely.  I hated silence; and I got the impression you didn’t like it either.  Our drink on Friday was fun too.  Catching up was a laugh.  Weird, but a laugh.  By 10:00 we called it a night.  Thanks for walking me home.  It was flattering when you called up to see if you could pop in to say ‘hi’ and chill for a little longer.  Sorry I had to say ‘no’ – it really was because my parents would have gone ape.

Then our Wednesday dinner was pretty cool.  You were awkward about me paying, weren’t you?  But I did say I would (and I always paid in our relationship, so it wasn’t anything new).  I know it was weird when we were talking about the guy I like and who I’m also sleeping with, but we were trying to be friends.  And actually, having a male’s opinion was helpful.  P.S. – I’m glad you’re over your dry spell.

Your suggestion of going for a drink after wasn’t your best move – we both knew who’d have to pay.  But, I admit, we had fun again.  Of course we were flirting because we have great chemistry, and – like we said – when our relationship was good it was really fucking good.  There was so much to talk about!  We were the last ones out the bar at closing time!

But I’m still annoyed at you.  I’m annoyed at you again.  Why?  Because we mainly only spoke about you.  Your main topic of interest is yourself.  And because I care about you, and am polite, I ask you questions about you.  How many questions do you think you asked me about me?  Ball park guess: probably around 5 over the course of the whole evening.

I’m glad things are well with you.  I realise that I don’t miss you, I miss the boyfriend experience.  I’m happy to be friends, but you make the effort, yeah?

 

Love,

Me.

Xxx

Posted in Dating?, Relationships, Single Life

The best sex – it’s what you don’t say.

When speaking with a friend recently, we found “let’s come together!” particularly off-putting.  It’s not always easy to orchestrate, you lose focus and think less about your own orgasm and more about being perfectly in sync that you lose any chance of climaxing.

 

For me, the best sex isn’t just about confidence, attraction and sexual adeptness, it’s also about being mentally in the moment.  So much of sex is about the build up, the anticipation, the environment and the atmosphere – they all contribute to the experience.  Simply having sex (no matter how amazing) is not enough; I need to be focused on what I’m doing, what they’re doing, the sounds, the touch, the sights in order to be proactive and ensure we both have a good time.  With ex-boyfriends, from the time I decided to call things off I wasn’t mentally invested in our sex life.  I had switched off and found things that had previously turned me on began to piss me off and I was simply responding to his actions until he came.  Obviously, falling out of love or losing interest for someone is undoubtedly going to impact upon how you fuck, but so does indifference to someone on a more short-term basis.  When having sex as a single girl, I’ve found that guys have it hard.  They have to carefully navigate a night of passion and make sure they don’t say (or do!) anything to distract me- otherwise I’ll be back to square one.  Of course I’ll never show it; but I’ll be less engaged and he’ll be putting in more work than I will.

Sometimes, the best tactic a guy can take is to shut the fuck up; otherwise he risks ending the night alone.

Posted in Beginning., Dating?, Relationships, Single Life

Can you be nice and sexy?

This year I’ve learnt that although personality is important, it’s not absolutely crucial and looks are more important than I anticipated.

I’ve been seeing a guy for a few months now and we’ve progressed into boyfriend / girlfriend territory.  According to mutual friends, he had been keen for a while, so we met at social gatherings, went for drinks together and had the odd sleepover.  More recently, he came to visit in Brighton and we’ve spent weekends together.  I thought he was attractive, but with hindsight, I think I found the idea of him more attractive.  Initially, he seemed great:

  • 29 years old
  • has a job and a passion that come together
  • amazing chef
  • gentlemanly
  • kind
  • interesting
  • we have mutual friends

In so many ways, he couldn’t have been more different to my ex (rebound?!], but as the months have gone on, he’s actually rather similar.  He’s been fired from his passionate job and wants ‘a boring office job’ to tide him over.  He also doesn’t seem to have a drive to live an exciting life with long-term goals.  He finds me ‘intimidating’ because I have my shit together.  He also hasn’t achieved much in 29 years.  However, there are key differences: the ex was stunning, he dressed to kill and was very charismatic.  He also recently called to say he’s still in love with me.

 

Why is it so hard to find a bloke who is:

  1. sexy
  2. kind
  3. driven?

And why am I still asking the same question 3 years later?!