Introducing....

My younger brother said this blog about being single in my late 30s was an excellent idea – as long as it wasn’t a “whinge-fest”. Thanks brother for the advice. A festival of whinging it ain’t...well, not entirely!

At the age of 28, I came out of a mid-term relationship with a boyfriend who was too lazy to call, displayed an extreme reluctance to meet my friends, and too stoned to get up before 2pm. At times the poor bloke seemed terrified of spending time alone with me – he was probably living in fear that I’d propose or something. It was all very odd, but I gave him benefit of the doubt (nothing worse than being single - eek!) until I admitted to myself it was useless - it was like going out with a very confused 17 year old. 

A decade later I remain single but with a raft of dates and flings behind me. I'm neither proud or ashamed of this – it just ‘is’. This is the path life has taken me down. 

Even I find it extraordinary that I haven’t met one man who I could see myself settling down with, or even a man who is true to his word. Perhaps I've been very unlucky or have attracted and been attracted to the wrong sort. I've learned that the fairy tale us girls are sold from womb-hood simply doesn’t exist - despite some friends claiming that they have found their Prince. I find it hard to believe – and so would they had they lived through some of my toe-curling romantic experiences.

I've discovered, moving through my 30s, that there is a devastatingly high number of men of similar age who still play the games of our 20s. It really doesn't help reduce the growing number of single people in the UK. Not only is this massively annoying when you’re looking for an honest, loving relationship, but I am sure it encourages many lovely ladies to overlook otherwise good men at the first sign of unreturned texts or phone calls. Guys – it really isn’t attractive and doesn’t make you seem mysterious or in demand. 

As time has gone on, I’ve become more independent, having had to drag myself through some of life’s tragic moments without the emotional support of a partner. As I have become stronger and more independent, it has become more tricky to find a man who can see himself fitting in a relationship with a woman like me. I now find myself caught up in a vicious circle of growing more independent with each day, thus making it more difficult to be with a partner.

A turning point came recently, when a colleague asked me for advice about dating and meeting new men following a split with her husband. She has a sweet story: a man had been admiring her for the last year on her local train station platform and he finally plucked up the courage to hand her a romantic, yet humble note bursting with compliments. She has just started seeing him, but has felt confused about reading the ‘signs’ or what it meant if he didn’t reply to her texts in the first 12 hours! I have been given her advice and have been proven 100% correct every time. 

It dawned on me....

I’ve concluded that although my experiences have not resulted in a wonderful relationship, long term singlehood has endowed me with nuggets of golden knowledge, very funny stories and a great big dollop of insight. Also, singlehood at child-bearing age is not an affliction but simply another way of living one’s life. This does mean however, that mainstream society has, on some levels, spat me out onto the pavement, shouting: "Bugger off - there's nothing for you here!". 

Although this is no longer Victorian Britain, society still refuses to give single women the support to help live as fulfilling a life as couples. We are encouraged to live with someone else whether we like it or not.

Nonetheless, I remain loyal to my lifelong mantra: I’d rather be single and free than be in a relationship to avoid being lonely and probably unhappy.

Oh, but there are positives to my status....remind me to tell you about the younger men on dating websites who often ask me to be their 'cougar'! After looking up the word in a dictionary I realised that I have unwittingly become a Mrs Robinson to men (or boys?) of 23. All very strange. 

This blog is the culmination of my experiences which I now feel I have to get out there into the ether! It may be because I’m an egomaniac, or perhaps I want to make you laugh, cringe, squirm, nod wildly in agreement, spark conversations over coffee, anger you or just annoy you. Feel free to leave comments, judge me or offer advice. 

Overall, my experiences reflect the stark face of life for women today. The recession isn't helping - moments of intense loneliness now go un-cushioned by previously healthy bank balances and frivolous girly weekend trips to Europe. 

Neither is this Sex and The City (although I’d love to earn a salary high enough to rent a central London apartment by writing 200 words each week for the Evening Standard). Oh yes, and please don’t call me Carrie!