Before I Found Love - The last Installment?

I don't really know how to start this particular blog and I hope I'm not 'jumping the gun' but then again, writing my dating experiences honestly and openly in semi-real time has always been my cathartic approach - so here it goes. 

I haven't dated much since the 'reality star' experience, mainly due to new lockdowns and restrictions, as well as, a complete loss of enthusiasm that I'll ever meet someone that's not just interested in clipping my toenails and getting his leg over. 

At the beginning of 2021 I met a really lovely chap, he couldn't give a hoot about my toenails and didn't try to get me into bed after our first date. In fact, he bought me chocolates on our first date, flowers on our second date, sent me a cute card in the post "just because" - essentially, he was the first non-knob I had dated in a long, long time.  

After our first few dates, I started to realise that we didn't have much in common - I tried to focus on the saying "opposites attract." I had waited so long to meet someone nice that I pushed away red flags, ignored the fact we fell out or bickered more in the first few weeks than we didn't; I simply focused on him being kind and that he liked me. In hindsight, after years of crappy dates, it was completely ego-driven on my part. 

My mum, sisters and friends were great listening ears and never told me what to do but my mum did ask, "Could it be that he's Mr. Right Now rather than Mr. Right?"

A few days later we stopped seeing each other - it was like shooting a puppy. 

My sister asked me if I was going to go back on the apps and I told her I couldn't bring myself to do it. However, later that night, as I sat alone and reminded myself I was happy alone, I was happy with life and it was okay to want to meet someone - I re-downloaded Bumble for the umpteenth time. 

With one eye on Grey's Anatomy, I was flicking between Bumble and Candy Crush, when I came across "King P's" dating profile. His huge smile and gorgeous face stopped me in my tracks, I swiped, we matched and the rest, as they say, is history.... so that's the end of this blog!

Just kidding, I won't leave it there!

King P and I started to exchange a few messages in that time between finishing the evening routine and before dropping off to sleep - it was a slow starter but by the Friday we decided to have a video date. Three and a half hours on the phone flew by and we quickly arranged our first date, with our second date the following day - we've pretty much been inseparable since. 

As you can tell, I'm not used to sharing details on happy, positive, fantastic dates - all I can think to say is that this experience (so far) has been unlike any dates and experiences I've had in the past six years of online dating. 

As mentioned in my blog "things not to say to your single friend" - the cliche "it'll happen when you least expect it" is annoyingly spot on (in my case anyway). 

Right now, I'm right where I want to be and all the stories I've shared with you from the past 6 years and the ones I haven't shared, all seem worth it now. 

I started this blog as a cathartic 'post date' diary. A place I could take the mick out of myself and share with even just one reader the trials and tribulations of online dating. If I made just one person laugh or feel less alone in the digital dating world, it makes the crappy experiences all worth it. 

At its very basic origins, I named this blog "Before I Found Love" with blind faith that one day I would find it. However, over the years I've come to realise that I never saw or fully appreciated how much love I have always been surrounded with. 

*WARNING - another cliche incoming*

I've received messages and comments from so many friends and digital friends saying how happy they are for me to have met King P - I have felt very overwhelmed with how many people have said "you deserve to be treated well".

For so long I prioritised finding love over doing things I love. I would beat myself up about my appearance and never thought someone could love me until I "got thin". But over the last couple of years, I have focused on my career, my passions, my children, my friends and my family; particularly the relationship with my sisters. This whole time, I've been surrounded with love and people that care about me - I've felt alone but I've never truly been alone. This isn't to say that wanting to find 'my person' was wrong but I truly found happiness when I realised I felt ready to meet HIM because I was already living a life in which I was loved and valued.

In summary: "Loving yourself and where you are in life puts you in the best position to love someone else" - Cliche delivered. 

Maybe this blog will evolve to be something else? Or maybe it will sit here waiting to be found by someone a little lost with dating and they'll be reassured that they're not the only one struggling.

If that's you reading this then please know you're not the only one meeting weirdos and experiencing crazy dates. You are already so loved by those around you (there's more than you think). These are simply the days Before you Find Love.*


*If it doesn't work out with King P then I'll be seeing you on the circuit - mine's a Vodka. x  

The reality of dating a reality TV star...

I haven't blogged about my dating woes in a while and sadly it's not because I've been swept up in romance or met someone who 'totally gets me'. As you can imagine, it's quite hard to date during a global pandemic but my silence is also due to my energy rapidly dwindling. The dating admin; the mundane digital chatting; having to 'put myself out there' - it is all so totally exhausting. Then there's sifting through the individuals not looking for a relationship; the ghosters; the catfish; the ones that are emotionally unavailable; and the ones only looking for women size 10 and smaller. 

I've also had some pleasant dates that just haven't gone anywhere for one reason or another... and those ones simply don't inspire me to write. Anyway, here I am because I did manage to go on a few dates and it's been long enough now that I'm ready to write about it. This blog is a fine mixture of tragic, odd and actually not too bad on the whole. So, settle in...

It was 7 pm on a Monday evening and I was laying in bed switching between Candy Crush (level 2235, thank you very much) and Instagram, while the canned laughter from Friends echoed around my bedroom. Having 'my' six Friends in the background has become somewhat of a comforter for me. 

I wasn't tired nor was I trying to have an early night, I just find being in bed less lonely than being curled up on the sofa in a generously sized living room. 

Eventually, with a long sigh, I found my thumb hovering over my 'dating folder' - I opened Bumble and began the zombie-like swiping ritual.

Jeff, 29: "wants kids" - swipe left. 

John, 41: "doesn't want kids" - swipe left. 

Jim, 33: "loves climbing mountains and being active" - swipe left. 

James, 30: "loves nothing more than a night in, snuggling on the sofa with a takeaway - swipe left.

Jacob, 45: "I hope to meet a woman as good as my mum" - SWIPE LEFT

Urgh. What is it that I want? What kind of man would be good for me? One minute I would love to have children in the future and the next I'm quite happy never to do a school run again! Yesterday I wanted to meet a man that will bring out my adventurous side and encourage me to be more active, today I couldn't think of anything worse than a weekend spent hiking up a mountain.

We all know that you can never truly write someone off from a few photos and a very short description, which only serves as a spotlight on hobbies they practise probably only half the time they make it seem. 

For example, I love being by the sea, I want more adventure in life and I want to learn to paddle-board - a fact I've included in my dating bio. I also dedicated A LOT of my free time to watching an American reality tv show - something I did not include in my bio. 

There I was swiping and suddenly I stopped. Oh hello, Sailor! 29, active, loves water sports and being in nature; friendly eyes, lovely smile, no mention of his mother, and... I recognised him! 

Do I know him from school? Hang on, I recognise his friends in one of the photos, why do I know they're a couple? OH. MY. GOSH. He's in that show I've just finished binge-watching! SWIPE RIGHT.

It's a match.

I sent a text to my sister: "oh my goodness, I've just matched with that guy from that show!"

For those lucky enough to have never used dating apps (you smug bastards), women have to send the first message on Bumble and the menfolk have 24 hours to reply; if the guy doesn't respond the 'match' disappears into cyberspace forever. 

*dramatic pause*

I 'casually' messaged Sailor Jerry, "Good evening, how's the start of you week been? x"

Smooth, Charlie, Smooth.

Damn, typo. I wrote "YOU", I meant "YOUR". I've fucked it.

22 hours later... no reply.

"Okay, I've got 2 hours left, I'll send one more message; I've got nothing to lose. I know, I'll send a GIF!"

Nice one, Charlie, a little comedy to cloud the scent of desperation.        

23 hours... "Woah, almost missed you! Sorry, Charlie, I don't come on here much."

PHEW. Match locked in and we started some polite conversation. We spoke about how he could teach me to paddle-board and swapped niceties about our days. We quickly swapped numbers and sent voice notes instead of messages, we then had a phone call; my word he could talk a lot but I liked it! 

Fast forward a few days and he invited me on a walk with his dog. I drove to our meeting point and sent a location pin to my sister - safety first, chums! He may be on TV but he could be a mass murderer!    

The walk and the conversation was pleasant - he mentioned his 'media career' and I had to admit that I knew of him. This opened somewhat of a flood gate, made worse when he queried what I did for a living and I told him that I manage social media accounts and worked on influencer campaigns. "Oh, so you totally get it!", he said. 

Thus ensued a 'conversation' about when he should post online, what content he should be 'putting out there' and maybe I could help him build a website(!) "Most girls I date just don't get what I HAVE TO DO but you get it", he said. 

He thought I was different from other girls? I got a warm glow - oh fuck, I hate myself.

Fast forward to another date and we're in my garden, basking in the sunshine, my legs draped over his knees. Sailor Jerry is regaling yet another story from his travelling days - this one was about how he'd pulled an Aussie girl in a night club using just his flamboyant dance moves. "The trick is to not seem as if you want to sleep with them, just be their friend, then they want to sleep with you."

I know what you're thinking, I should've rolled my eyes and left this 'romance' well alone but he was adorably goofy and clearly clumsy. 

He was talking me through the scars on his feet (it gets worse) and he suddenly noticed my feet or rather he noticed my toe nails... I'd lost my toenail clippers and they'd gotten a *little* long, so... he decided he was going to cut them for me. He whipped out a leather pouch, selected some scissors and began hacking at my toenails.

I. WAS. MORTIFIED.

Goodness knows what he must've said to his friends - "cool chick, shame about her twit like toe nails" 

Anyway, I kept all 10 of my toes and received an unwelcome, albeit needed, pedicure from a man I barely know and was trying to impress. 

It didn't put him off and we arranged another walking date. This time he bought his camera along so we could 'get some fun snaps'. Usually, when a man invites you deep into the woods with a camera, one must do a risk assessment. The scenario ended up being far worse and more sinister than a Stephen King novel. As he set up the tripod and showed me the settings on his camera I realised he wasn't going to be chopping me up into tiny pieces and taking photos...no, it was far worse...

He wanted me to be a #InstagramGirlfriend.

After taking many, many, many photos of him in all sorts of poses, he graciously took some of me and off we went home. 

After that 'date' I came to the realisation that he barely knew anything about me and nor did he care to get to know me. He isn't a horrid person, he's simply not 'in that place' that I am, or I'm just not enough to set his world on fire and that's fine too. 

Hearing his tales from the TV show and getting to know an eccentric character was fun but I deserve to have a 'somebody' that wants to know me, not just have me know them.

And hunnies, I'm no one's Instagram PA. 

On to the next.

           

                                  

Tinder Tales - The Comeback Blog

It's been eight months since I've posted here. I had just been "humped and dumped" but wrote about finding love 'in a higher place' - a love found within friendships and shared moments. 

I'm now writing during a global pandemic, the feeling of love and gratitude for my friends has only strengthened. However, being single AND not being able to see my loved ones is teaching me a lot about staying connected. Thankfully, I'm already well practised in being alone or the only adult in the house. 

So, with plenty of time to reflect, I've decided to write about my tinder tales from the last eight months. 

After the epic Summer of 2019, I eventually downloaded the dating apps for the umpteenth time. By October, I had my first date! He was a breath of fresh air - a 'Kind Kev'. No unsolicited dick-pics, no nasty comments about his ex, no suggestive comments, no bigoted remarks. However, after three pleasant dates, it just wasn't a 'right fit' with "Kind Kev", and we resolved to be just friends. Considerable growth for me, as I usually force things to work with the normal ones. 

I decided to continue to date quietly, slowly and thoughtfully - whatever that means. 

In December, I matched with a VERY handsome web-designer; I'll call him "Peter Parker" - get it?! We messaged back and forth for a while and eventually met for a cup of tea in a cosy pub. Yes, I drank tea on a first date. 

After we said goodbye, I doubled back to the pub for a debrief with my friends and at long last a glass of red wine. I noticed that my date had left behind his bag of shopping - a chocolate protein shake in a glass bottle and some indigestion tablets. Naturally, these are critical items needed before a date. 

I texted him and suggested I gave it back on a second date. Smooooooth, I know. 

A week later, I was walking to the second date when I tripped over a step, dropped the bag and smashed the glass bottle. Great!

After profusely apologising to him for not only being late but smashing his shake, we sat down at our cosy table for two in Turtle Bay. Conversation flowed, we flirted, and I caught him 'accidentally' letting his eyes wander to the v-neck of my top. Things were going well, and I was very attracted to him. 

On the day of our third date, I awoke to a missed call from a withheld number and a message from "Peter Parker" saying something had come up with his ex. I noticed his Whatsapp picture wasn't visible anymore; he'd blocked me - I had no chance to reply or ask any questions. Pre-date excitement instantly crushed. Chapter closed.

On New Year's day, I matched with "Military Mike" - almost immediately, he informed me of his wish for children. I appreciated how upfront he was and deduced that his want for a family meant he wouldn't just 'hump and dump' me. 

Dating "Military Mike" was challenging. He often told me my opinions and thoughts on pretty much any subject were wrong. He was adamant that the gender pay gap doesn't exist. He told me that if we got serious, the children and I would have to fall in line with his career. He told me he didn't want dinner when he came over to watch a movie and then moaned that I hadn't cooked for him. 

He did a lot, and I allowed it to happen because I wanted someone to want me. I know, I know, I'm a strong, confident woman but I can also feel lonely and insecure at times.

Anyway, soon enough, I took a deep breath, listened to my friend's advice, reminded myself of my worth and called it a day with "Military Mike"- he never responded. 

SO, that brings us neatly to the present day... lockdown. Dating is a no go but of course, now would be the time I match with "Lush Lorry"! 

So far it's been daily texts and facetime dates, but actually, it's been pretty perfect. I've done the 'texting' thing before, and it's always fizzled out, but virtual dating during this time somehow feels more connected. 

Maybe all I needed was some distance to find a connection. Watch this space. 

P.S. Please don't be foolish and attempt to date/meet people outside your home. The sooner everyone adheres to the lockdown rules, the quicker we can get out! Plus, then I can go on a real date with "Lush Lorry".

In this whole world, what is fair? | I've already found my Higher Love.

I’ve been dating for four (very long) years and this blog began as an outlet and documentation of the ridiculous messages, dating disasters, funny slip-ups and hurtful moments. I chose to share stories and the blog on my Instagram; I wanted to be honest, I wanted to be real and relatable; I wanted to be truly uncensored. However, I recently experienced something deeply upsetting and stopped documenting what was happening with a particular guy. I don’t have to share everything (and I don’t) but I am going to be honest with this experience because, besides the hurt and the embarrassment I feel, I’ve also learnt and grown, and that’s the part I want to share.

I met a man; another one old enough and experienced enough to know better. We dated; we texted; we spoke on the phone; we kissed; we held hands; we planned another date; we danced together to live music, on a Sunday afternoon, in the middle of a pub full of people; we got intimate. 

He left; he texted once; he didn't text back; he didn’t confirm our next date; he didn’t answer my calls; he ghosted me. 

(I had to write it like that, short and quick… like him; I know, cheap shot.)

I woke up in the middle of the night to check my phone for messages. I made excuses for his silence. I beat myself up for my stupidity and for rushing feelings. I berated myself and picked myself apart trying to figure out everything that was wrong with me. 

I deleted Tinder and decided being alone was better than the risk of getting hurt again. I started a full-on self-pity party and began work on my tiny little violin. 

A week later it was my best friend’s wedding. That weekend I was surrounded not only by people that were in loving relationships but by people that love me and I love right back. It’s not romantic love but it’s affirming, reassuring, confidence building and heartwarming. 

The wedding was full of support and adoration for the most amazing couple. And amongst the entire wedding party, there were tears, laughter, hugs, compliments, listening ears, supportive words and more hugs. If you haven’t guessed already, I’m still on a high from the occasion!

One particular moment that will stay with me for the rest of time was the first dance. The grooms took to the dance floor and held one another, surrounded by all of their friends and family supporting their love. The cover from Kygo and the late pop icon Whitney Houston, "Higher Love", was the perfect song for the atmosphere. 

Looking over the lyrcis this verse couldn’t be truer of the feelings felt on the journey towards finding love:

Worlds are turnin', and we're just hanging on

Facing our fear, and standin' out there alone

A yearning, yeah, and it's real to me

There must be someone who's feeling for me

When the beat dropped during the first dance everyone joined the Grooms on the dance floor and lifted them in the air, cheering, laughing and crying happy tears. AND THAT is what relationships, platonic or romantic, are all about - being happy for others, supporting others, lifting others and loving others, flaws and all. 

You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly. – Sam Keen

After the wedding of the year, I’ve gone from feeling low, unattractive and unlovable to being on a high, worthy of more and feeling totally loved. I’ve still not heard from that guy and I don’t want to. I’m holding out for someone that gives me the feeling I get when I’m surrounded by my friends. I will wait for it, I'm not too late for it because ‘there must be someone who’s feeling for me.’ 

Bring me someone who will be my friend. 

Bring me someone who will laugh at my jokes. 

Bring me honesty. 

Bring me kindness. 

Bring me a higher love.

Congratulations to my best friends on their marriage, may you always bask in your higher love from each other and us all 🖤

 Images by fine art wedding photographer, Benjamin Wheeler 

The real life Good Luck Chuck

Hello, my name is Charlie and I am the real Good Luck Chuck.

No idea what I'm talking about? Here's a brief synopsis of 2007 romantic comedy, Good Luck Chuck.

"Cursed since childhood, dentist Charlie Kagan (Dane Cook) cannot find the right woman. Even worse, he learns that each of his ex-girlfriends finds true love with the man she meets after her relationship with him ends. Hearing of Charlie's reputation as a good-luck charm, women from all over line up for a quick tryst. But when Charlie meets the woman (Jessica Alba) of his dreams, he must find a way to break the curse or risk losing her to the next man she meets."

The above is my life (with a male as the protagonist). You may think I'm joking; I'm deadly serious.

A few years ago, while wandering through Tesco's with my children, we bumped into an ex-boyfriend of mine. We politely caught up, I asked after his new wife and baby. He asked how work was for me and commented on how much the children had grown-up. It was pleasant & not at all awkward.

What was awkward was when my darling son asked in the middle of the clothing aisle (at the top of his voice) *"So are all your ex-boyfriends married and in love now, mummy?"*

I inwardly laughed and gritted my teeth; it was the moment I suddenly realised that as the stats currently sit, my son's question was, in fact, a statement.

Since that moment and to current day, the "Good Luck Chuck" theory is consistently reaffirmed & haunts me more often than not.

The other day I was searching WhatsApp for a conversation. I typed in the keyword and was presented back with several different conversations. This included a conversation with an ex-fling from 2016, and his profile picture was of him and his new wife (the girl he got with after me.) Although I'm delighted for him and there are no feelings there, The Good Luck Chuck taunting started again, and I began to recall the other examples of my "curse"...

1) Last Summer, my ex longterm boyfriend announced his engagement to the women he met after splitting with me. I'd be lying if that didn't cut me slightly.

2) The man I fell for last year ( I was thinking babies and all sorts) is now settled with the woman he met after me & he felt was better suited to the role of "future momma bear" - that also stung.

3) Even the 48yr old alcoholic I dated for a few months is now holidaying around Europe with his new boo. Good Luck to her.

4) The boy I rebounded with after my marriage broke down 8years ago is now engaged and has two children with his fiancé.

5) A family friend that I fancied from the age of 12 years old - 15 years old is married.

6) A boyfriend from year 8 is married.

7) The Portuguese kid I snogged on a family holiday in 2003 is probably married to a beautiful woman with two perfectly behaved children, a dog that doesn't piss in the house & shed hair, and a cat who doesn't leave dead pigeon carcasses in the front garden!!!!!

I realise that all I'm demonstrating with this blog is that I've (probably/definitely) dated/invested feelings far more than I should have over the years as well as, a slight green-eyed habit when it comes to my ex's being in seemingly happy relationships.

But do you know what the real twist of the knife is? Just like the women in the movie that use Chuck for his "curse", the men left on Tinder are only there for the same outcome (the sex not the happily ever after.)

*see my Instagram stories for regular shares of the knob head messages I get sent. Below is an example*

In the end, Chuck gets 'his perfect girl' and the audience is left with the 'warming rom-com feeling.'

So, what has this movie taught me? It's all about staying patient; keeping standards at Jessica Alba level and not being blindsided by those using me for their own gain.


If you could all wish me 'Good Luck' I'd be grateful.

Love, Chuck.

Just call me 'Wheezy the Penguin'

On Easter Sunday I had a really pleasant date - I've not started a blog like that for a long time!

I woke up Sunday morning to a match and a message (on Tinder.)

"Charlie you absolute sort"

Not exactly a Shakespeare sonnet but it made me smile.

This Tinder match claimed to be looking for a soul mate and asked me when I was next free, I threw caution to the wind, "I'm free in a couple hours if you are?"

We met half-way between our home cities at a river-side pub. The South of England was experiencing a heat wave, so we sat in the sun and watched the light play on the water. It was a pretty perfect setting.

The conversation was good, it moved along from topic to topic, serious to lighthearted. It was going so well that I almost became giddy, although that could've been a mixture of the white wine spritzer and blazing sunshine.

The date ended with quite a hot and sweaty snog (again, this was probably down to the spritzer and heat than any chemistry.) I drove away feeling a mixture of emotions but was relieved that I had finally experienced a first date that could definitely go on to a second date!

So the above was the date in a nutshell - here's what happened after/during. 

I'm so used to awkward dates, uninvited sexual advances and/or my own gut instinct telling me it's not right that I missed a few "red flags".

1) He insisted that he always kisses on the first date. I told him that wasn't something I ever go on a 1st date planning to do. I've kissed on a 1st date before but it's not a habit I've ever wanted to get into, plus planning a kiss is weird. When it came to the end of the date I knew that's what he wanted/was planning and I felt pressured to kiss him. No women (or man) should ever feel pressured to do anything they don't want to do, especially on a date.

2) He bad mouthed his ex A LOT and I'm not a fan of ex-bashing! Yes, in the past I've bitched and moaned about my exes but to trusted friends NOT strangers on a date. Plus, using the C word to describe the mother of your child isn't very kind.

3) He was very recently single, hence the ex-bashing and why I sort of understood. However, to generalise, people aren't usually looking for a "soul mate" 3 months after splitting up with your child's mother. A shag? Yes. A soul mate? No.

Why did I still go ahead and agree to a second date? Because I ignored what I hadn't acknowledged as red flags. I was flattered at the attention and so very relieved not to have had another god awful date.

Despite agreeing to the second date it never happened. 

Two days after our date I received a message...

"Got to be honest, I'd love those boobs in my face. Can we arrange for this week?"

For Fuck Sake, I thought. So, my reply was blunt and to the point.

"I see. So do you want to arrange a 'hook up' for this week or a second date?"

He assured me he wanted a second date but when it came to the day, I messaged him to see what time we were meeting and he responded to say he was now looking after his child. That's totally fine but it would've been nice if he had cancelled rather than wait for me to chase.

Perhaps some people reading this blog will have the opinion that I'm fussy, a prude or high maintenance. My response: that's totally fine. Long ago, I made the decision to hold my own value in the highest regard, not the opinions of others. I made the choice to date but to be on guard for 'Fuck Boys', I've gotten it wrong with a few 'Fuck Boys in Good Boy clothing' but I won't make excuses for guys that text things like:

"Hey, you got the hangover horn yet? Our second date could be coffee at yours before we '... ya'know'. It's my mothers birthday today but I could squeeze you in this morning? "


Another one bites the dust and my hope there's anyone left on the shelf has rather diminished. Although I was right to ditch the date, I can't help but feel like the squeaky penguin in ToyStory. The one left on the shelf so long that it's gathering dust? Yeah, you can call me "Wheezy"!

Regardless of my 'Wheezy on the shelf' status, my self-respect, strength and happiness is only growing - to be honest, I'd say I'm winning!

City Boy visits The Shire pt 2

Disclaimer: If you're reading this and remotely fancy me, maybe you're contemplating asking me out, PLEASE STOP READING NOW - I promise not to write a blog about you when quoting this reference code: #DidntReadIt

City Boy visits The Shire pt 2

I began sweating and was quickly backing out the car, as he tried to mask his alarm at my sudden change in attitude. I reached behind me for the door handle and began to make my escape.

"I'm ever so sorry, I've got to go right now", I said, as I fled the car quicker than David Cameron post Brexit referendum.
.
"Don't forget your scarf!" City Boy called after me (My date, not David Cameron).  I contemplated leaving the scarf but reached back for it.

Safely inside my car, my heart began to settle, and my breathing slowed down. I quickly undid the top button on my jeans, followed by my belt. Finally, I could relax.

Yup, you guessed it. I had just narrowly avoided a scenario where I hotboxed the car with my fart while snogging City Boy for the first time.

My initial feeling of relief was not long-lived; I suddenly realised I couldn't "let go". Fuck. This was a code R19.7, and for those who aren't medically trained or have IBS, that's a CODE LAVA BROWN.

I began to drive my Honda Jazz out the car park like a formula one driver, I channelled my inner Lewis Hamilton and navigated my track with speed and precision.  So much so, I found myself directly behind City Boy who had left ahead of me. I knew we were driving the same course until my next right-hand-turn, all I could do was pray he wouldn't see me driving at speed behind him and think I was chasing him down!

I made my right-hand turn and was no longer behind City Boy. I was on the home straight; all I had to do was hold on. Then my phone rang, it was him.

Have you ever tried to answer the phone (hands-free) in a nonchalant manner when you're in a world of pain (and quite frankly fear)? Well let me tell you, it's tough.

"Hey, I thought you were showing me the way back to your place then", City Boy said with a fake laugh and a hopeful lilt to the end of his sentence.

"Oh, haha, oh no. *weird unexplained noise*, I choked out.

"Listen, I'd love to be getting in your pants right now but I just need to get back. City Boy drawled out. "But listen, let's do Tuesday night. Let me know timings."

"Yes, sounds delightful" is all I could manage in way of response.

I won't go into detail about what happened next but as I was running to my front door I'd forgotten I had undone my top button and belt, there was a scuffle with my jeans and any neighbours watching got an eye full.

But I made it.

Later, City Boy texted regarding his 'getting in your pants' comment, to say he wanted to return to The Shire for a 'nightcap'. I realised that he wasn't in it for the long adventure or an unexpected journey... he just wanted 'my precious.'

When I called him out on his 'fuck boy' behaviour and said "it's going to take more than a cheese and chicken toastie and a couple of cocktails to get me on my back", he went radio silent. As it turns out, it takes a toastie and cocktails to get me somewhere else.

As this blog highlights, I've got many flaws, and I'm quite literally a hobbit, but I deserve more than to be ghosted when I make it clear I'm not banging on the first date. I'm fully aware that dating can be full of disappointments, however, all it takes is to meet one more person and go on one more date for it all to be worthwhile.

"It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to." — J. R. R. Tolkien

Here's to being swept off to less "shitty" places.

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Right, that story should put the nail in the coffin on my romantic life. Whatever should I write about now?

City Boy visits The Shire pt 1

"What people don't realise is that the McCanns were part of a paedophile ring" 

- My Date, April 2019. 

Top Tip: Avoid discussions around controversial documentaries such as "The Disappearance of Madeline McCann" and "Finding Neverland." Forget "Netflix and Chill", it got a bit "Netflix and Hot" (debate).

City Boy visits The Shire

My date is a City Boy with all the swag but seemingly no penchant for cocaine and partying until the wee hours. He spoke with confidence but without a trace of cockiness. He had a smile that took over his face (in a good way, not a creepy Cheshire cat way). He spoke of his experiences and travel with modesty. He lit up when we began to discuss cars. He came across in no other way than a hard-working and well brought up young man. (I'm fully aware that I sound like his mother.)

As lovely as all the that sounds, it took a lot for me to ignore my pessimistic voice and go on this date, there were a few red flags along the way. For example, when arranging the logistics, City Boy pondered if he should drive or not.

"But if I drive I can only have two drinks..."

For those that have seen the mildly annoying movie "Mamma Mia" (my guilty pleasure) then you'll know that the *dot, dot, dot* aka the ellipsis MEANS SOMETHING. In the world of Tinder Tales, and the diary of Donna in Mamma Mia, the ... eludes to sex.

I may have jumped to conclusions, however, a couple friends at the gym agreed that I wasn't mad to be slightly on guard. If you've been reading my Tinder Tales for a while, then you'll know I'm quite seasoned at this game of dating charades, so it's fair to say the (...) was the "Fuck Boy" red flag. Then there was the time he texted me at gone 10pm, I responded to say I was still working but from the comfort of my bed, he asked to see a picture. I sent him a photo of my laptop on my 'bed table' (best thing ever) but apparently, that wasn't the spreadsheet he was expecting to see.

Then in the morning, he sent me a topless selfie and a note to say he was looking forward to the date. I didn't return the 'favour' but I'm not going to lie, a picture of a toned tummy and handsome face wasn't the worst thing to wake up to, especially as it wasn't in real life and therefore make me immediately want to hide my 'mum-tum' in shame & worry about morning breath.

I chose to ignore the red flags and go on the date, I was pleasantly surprised by his aforementioned demeanour/character as we ate our Caribbean food and sipped on (just 2) cocktails.

We had been talking non-stop (he didn't ask me anything at all) but the conversation flowed thanks to my questions and the MJ and McCann discussion. City Boy started to fall into a food coma, so we decided to get some fresh air and meader back to our cars. I realised I'd had a delightful time, admittedly this was off the back of a few terrible experiences, but it was enjoyable none the less.

We walked through the closed highstreet, feeling the April chill in the air. We got to our cars and began to arrange our next date through chattering teeth, then City Boy asked if I would be okay to sit in his car to warm up and talk.

Once inside the car, I could tell he was building up to a kiss.

We locked eyes and he began to lean in closer; our heads were tilting *ding ding* this was 100% first kiss territory. Suddenly I realised something didn't feel right; I started to panic and realised I needed to get out of the situation FAST. I began sweating and was quickly backing away, as he tried to mask his own alarm.

To be continued...

(Spoiler alert, the above ellipsis does not elude to sex)

My date with the Cowboy/Bodyguard/Missing Bros Brother

It's been 18months since my Tinder date with the aggressive soldier who took me to Macdonalds, it's been around 10 months since I dated the alcoholic geriatric who told my family they were 'fuckers', and it's been about 5 months since I experienced unrequited feelings for someone who I thought was a friend and mentor. So, my date this Saturday felt like a big deal, the nerves were triggering panic attacks and even my dad dressing in my mum's fur jacket couldn't help subside the angst for long.

On Thursday I matched with this guy, he was bald (I love a bald man, Phil Mitchell has a certain sex appeal), he was rugged, employed and we got chatting! We quickly exchanged numbers and up popped his first message:

' Howdy Smiler ") '

Not the best opening line but not the worst - I dubbed him the "Cowboy Dater"

We quickly established that the only time we could meet was this Sunday after he had dropped his kids home and before my kids came back, the idea was to squeeze in a quick drink before he went off on a month-long trip to Afghanistan... as a bodyguard...  

On Sunday morning my very own cowboy-come-bodyguard sent me a video note to say he was looking forward to meeting me, cute, right? Upon opening said 21-second video note, I found he had recorded his message from the shower... he was literally showering. Naked. The SHOWER. I was shook.

No fear, there was no indecent exposure, however, it should have been my first sign that the guy literally doesn't stop talking, not even to shower.

When I walked into the bar I was relieved to see he looked like his pictures, he grinned from ear-to-ear when he saw me and I quickly realised why he didn't smile in any of his photos. I haven't exactly got a Hollywood Smile myself, so I tried not to stare at the gap with missing teeth and sat down for our date. 

The Cowboy Dater got straight to it and launched into his biography with energy that can only be matched by 'the' Tasmanian Devil. He began his monologue with this corker, "most of my friends ask me if there is anything I can't do? And I say, well that's pretty negative, why can't we discuss what I CAN do? Oh but I'm not arrogant." - I suddenly realised he was the 3rd member of the Bros Brothers.

So what can he do? He's a professional dancer & stand-up comedian (the kind that pauses a beat too long for a joke to be understood and laughed at.) He's a published author (it has three reviews on Amazon), a screenplay writer (I was afforded a break down of the plot and characters),  he's an actor, singer, inventor and entrepreneur. When he's not protecting businessmen and politicians, he tends to be a bit of a 'fixer' but he's realised the error of his ways and is looking for a woman that dosen't need fixing.... it was at that point he lent in and touched my arm, laughed and said, "could it be you?" Except he didn't touch my arm, he missed...and got my left boob. 

Now, I am well endowed in the chest area, so this has happened before. Usually, I and the accidental groper will pray to our chosen God that it hadn't happened and not draw any attention to a potenial sexual harassment case. But not the Cowboy Dater, he decided to maniacally laugh and proclaim:

"Oh god, did I just touch your boob? *hahaha* I apologise, bit early for that!"

Much to the amusement of the waitress stood by the bar cleaning the cutlery....which I'm sure didn't need polishing as much as she was. So now my date had an audience, to be fair he was putting on quite the performance.

To his credit The Cowboy Dater did ask about me, I managed to say that I liked writing and rugby before I was stopped with an anecdote about Scottish rugby supporters, which was followed with a story about the time a woman bought him a drink in a bar and he didn't return the favour.

At this point I'm elated that I set an hour limit to the date, I look at my phone and let him know that the children were 10mins away and I had to go. As we put on our jackets he began to tell me how much he loves clothes but thanks to his job and being away he doesn't get to wear them. As I walked out the door he hadn't finished his story, so he beckoned me back into the foyer of the bar, so he could conclude with:

"and that's when I danced the soles off from my brother's timberland boots, I danced the sole off the shoes to the SOUL of the music... *manic laughter* so anyway, would you like to see me again?"

I don't know why I said yes but I grew up with MSN and MySpace, we didn't have awkward conversations face to face... I wasn't prepared, I was put on the spot and quite frankly I was shocked that I was being given the opportunity to speak!

After I replied with a 'Yes' he went in for a kiss, I swerved my head to the left so quickly that I'm pretty sure I'm suffering from whiplash - his wet kiss made contact with my cheek as he rubbed my arms, drew back and met my eyes. Before I could make it back to the safety of my parent's house (about 20 meters away) I had received two voice notes, one of him pretending to tell his mum he'd just met a crazy lady...and the second laughing at his 'joke' and thanking me for the date.

The texts and voice notes kept coming until I grew a backbone and told him I didn't think there was the chemistry. I've since found him online using a different name, however, his online CV does, in fact, say he's a bodyguard, although perhaps less Kevin Costner and more Mr Bean.

So, there was no 'YEEHAW' with The Cowboy Dater but I'm firmly back in the dating saddle....wish me luck!

A message from all the Single Ladies

I've been single for almost four years (with some 'almost relationships' in that time), I'm quite used to being on my own. However, when I woke up on the 1st January 2019, I started to feel more alone than I've ever done before; and that was before seeing any engagement announcements and loved-up couples on social media.

I decided to download Tinder (again!) I matched with a nice guy, and by 6 pm I had my first date of 2019 in the diary for the following Saturday! Good work, Charlie Girl. We texted until late New Year's day; I was smiling at my phone, waiting for the 'ping' of a new message with excited and nervous anticipation.

Date night arrived, I received no communication from him but the day before he had said he was looking forward to it. At around 4 pm I posted on my Instagram stories that I was nervous about my first date. By 5:30 pm I posted that he had cancelled. I'm ashamed to say I balled my eyes out (see picture), not because a stranger cancelled a date but because I am just so sick of being let down and could feel the dark side of loneliness creeping in.

I received some lovely messages from friends commiserating my unfortunate luck. However, some were a little off the mark (despite the good intentions) it got me thinking about all the other comments I've had on my relationship status from friends and total strangers. Here's a list of some of the things you SHOULD NOT say to your single friends.

1) "Stop Looking. It happens when you stop searching for love."

- Right, so all the happy couples that met on Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, PoF, Christians Mingle, Blind Date, First Dates, Speed Dating or fucking Love Island weren't looking for love? As a single mum, who works from home, with friends who are all married/engaged, how exactly will I ever meet someone when I'm being told not to look? Plus, I have tried not looking and guess what? Didn't.Work.

2) "There's plenty more fish in the sea."

- Firstly, shut the fuck up. At almost 30 years old, the best fish have hooked up. The only ones left are the slippery mother fuckers that will give me ciguatera poisoning. Plus, the sea is a big place, if I'm abiding by point 1, then I have to make do with the fish surrounding my boat tied up in the dock. Idiots.

3) "It's okay to be on your own."

- Yes, I'm fully aware it's okay to be on my own. In fact, in the four years I've been on my own, the world hasn't imploded, I have achieved a degree, travelled to amazing places, given a lecture at a university, started a business, raised two incredible children, lost 20lbs, partied hard and laughed far more than I've cried. I am FULLY aware that being on my own is okay, I have done great things on my own. Perhaps, and more so in the quieter moments, I'd like to share all of that with someone. I can achieve great things on my own WITH someone by my side.

4) "You got to love yourself before you can love someone else."

- Okay, I agree with this one. However, when people say this to me, it makes me so angry! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I DON'T LOVE MYSELF???  Alright, I'll concede that four years ago I did the heartbreak diet (*he'll love me when I'm thin*), I drank and didn't eat - that wasn't a great act of self-love. I used to think that I would be happy when someone loved me but years of growth has seen me through this absurd thought. The point is, a person doesn't get to say that to any single girl on the assumption she can't love herself if she chooses to want a partner.

5) "But you're so pretty and funny, and a great mum! I don't understand why you're still single."

- Thanks, Sandra. Now I'm sat here thinking if it's my chins, height or shitty personality that's setting a force field around me stopping any potential suitors.

6) "Maybe you're too fussy?"

- One of my single gal pal's responded to this fabulously, "there is no such thing as being too damn fussy." One of my problems is that I'm not fussy enough! My 3-month blip dating a 48-year-old alcoholic is a testament to that (that's another blog coming soon.) Being fussy ties in with point 4, I love myself enough not to settle out of fear of being on my own. That doesn't mean I'm only swiping right for Jack Wills models and gym posers, I quite like a chunky yet funky, dad-bod rocking gentleman. Not settling means I'm not going to lower my standards and date a Nazi (see blog) so that I can have someone to kiss on New Year's Eve. Be fussy, not judgemental.

7) "You're doing brilliantly. You've got a great career, focus on that."

- Great advice, Aunt June. Can't have sex with my career though, can I?


Right, that's probably enough tips for all you loved-up bunnies to take on board for now. Next time you're hanging with your single mate and don't know what to say, offer her some fully charged batteries and a bottle of wine. I'm kidding, kind of,  just keep being her awesome friends, you're doing a great job.

And to all my single girls, for once I've got nothing inspirational to say...just keep swimming because apparently there's a shit ton of fish somewhere.

Waiting for Mr. Right, not settling for Mr. Right Now

I've been single for three years, during that time I've gone through the following stages:

1) Utter loneliness and mourning my previous life of being in a relationship

2) Filling the void by going on dates with people I knew wouldn't be right for me or after 'one thing'

3) Punishing myself for 'not being right' aka the 'heartbreak diet' 

4) Embracing single life, believing that it was all about the freedom to party without guilt

5) Enjoying the quiet time on my own and reconnecting with friends

6) Refocusing attention from finding another half to making myself whole

7) Re-prioritising and realising I hold the keys to my future

8) Choosing to delete dating apps and be on my own; prioritising self-love 

9) Embracing my strength, achievements and abilities - realising I AM good enough

Leaving a list on an uneven number is giving me an unsettling feeling...but here's how I got round to stage 10.

So, I had deleted all the dating apps from my phone and I wasn't missing them one bit; I had so much more time and my finger didn't have a weird twitch from over-swiping (IT'S A THING!) I had gone through a lot of self-reflection, I knew I was happy being single and not chasing a relationship, but it wasn't healthy for me to have too much time alone. 

My solution? A weekend pub job! I got to work with some lovely friends, meet some eccentric locals and earn some pocket money. I felt like a young, busty, Peggy Mitchell. I even got close to saying 'Get outta my puuuub', except it was the timid version of 'umm, I'm closing now, you've got to go home.' 

One day a rather handsome chap walked into the pub and we struck up a friendly barmaid/punter conversation. When I'd finished my shift, he bought me a drink and invited me to join him, an hour later we'd moved to another pub and were getting on famously. He was newly single, I was newly ready-to-not be single. 

My 'pub punter' was 19 years my senior and going through a tough break-up, despite having more baggage than Heathrow's lost baggage department, I quickly fell for him and we exclusively dated. Despite his drunken fall-out with two of my closest friends, I stuck by him. I was enjoying being treated well, I was enjoying having someone to fall asleep with in front of the TV.  I was enjoying the conversation and support, generally embracing having someone close in my life again. Then, on a separate occasion to his previous misdemeanor, he drunkenly hurled insults at my family - again, I stood by him. 

One evening, three months into dating my pub punter, I was spending time with a friend. My 'pub punter' called me 17 times and told me I could spend time with my friends, but he hated them and my family. Suddenly I woke up! WHAT THE FUCK WAS I DOING? 

It's nice having someone to kiss and cuddle; it's nice to have someone to go to dinner with or stay in with; it's nice to have 'a somebody' but to what detriment? I've been loving myself and building myself up for the best part of three years, I don't need to be dragged down for the sake of having company of an evening. 

So here I am at Stage 10 -  Growing in patience to wait for "Mr. Right" and not settle for "Mr. Right Now."

One last note, Mr. Right isn't to be confused with Mr. Perfect, Mr Perfect doesn't exist. 

Seriously, even the men from Disney are far from perfect:

1) Prince Charming wasn't bothered about Snow White looking after seven men with exaggerated characteristics in exchange for pretty rubbish bodyguard services. 

2) Aladdin started his relationship with Jasmine on a bed (or magic carpet) of lies; he literally cat fished her.  

3) Simba ghosted Nala; seeing as all the animals could communicate he could've sent a carrier pigeon/parrot to let her know he had 'family issues' and was going to be away for a while.

4) Eric doesn't recognise Ariel from the time she saved his life and decides to swerve her for the busty brunette without a speech impediment. Bloody Typical. 

5) Prince Henry got a bunch of women in a room to battle for his attention, then he based true love off a snog and what can only be described as a foot fetish. 

6) The Beast kidnapped Belle's father, then swapped him for her imprisonment... the choices he made in the past haunt him and he takes it out on those around him. He is definitely hangry and sexually frustrated, but to be fair, he does work through his issues in the end with the love of a good woman. 

Anyway, the POINT is, I'm not settling for Mr. Right Now and I'm under no illusion that a Mr. Perfect exists. I am happy to wait for Mr. Right For Me.... Maybe there's a Beast out there that needs a little taming? Just with slightly less hair and none of the anger issues....