The worst thing about being single is…..

the people who don’t believe you when you say, “Yeah, I’m good thanks!”  Because, that just ain’t (right) possible.

I can’t remember exactly why I was talking about it recently, when I explained that I hadn’t had a date, since ‘Hot Frenchie February’, but my companion’s complete 1) disbelief, and 2) incredulity, then 3) pity, was palpable.  Though, to be fair, he did attempt to mask it.  Bless.  Such a sweet boy.

Steadfast in my spinsterdom/*PANKdom, this year was a conscious decision to uncouple (thanks Gwynnie) from dating, and it’s been pretty wonderful.  Best decision I’ve made since chancing my luck in Barcelona.  I’ve travelled, worked hard, played, been in education, improved myself professionally and am developing my business.  I’ve also enjoyed the company of those friends (old and new) who are men, who I love dearly, some with whom I have also shared a bed; without having to endure the emotional f*ckery that usually goes with it.  And you know what, it’s been pretty damn good.  Only slightly irritated with myself for allowing my feelings to get the better of me in the summer, on the whole, the results have been pretty positive.  I’ve had a lot of fun.  I’ve had freedom to enjoy the fun.  In my 44th year, I’ve finally come around to the idea of compartmentalising different aspects of what you require emotionally, as a human.  And it really works.

Case in point, I felt a bit low on Monday, so I text my **accountant to see if he was available for a bit of huggage.  I popped to his office yesterday for ten minutes, I got my hugs, we had some kisses, my battery was recharged – his most definitely was.  I’ve been having some cheeky chatter with another friend, I might see him in the New Year.  I may not.  I briefly toyed with the idea of spending some time holed up somewhere romantic with my artistic inspiration, and I’ve been reminiscing with my ex, who I have an enormous amount of affection for.  Different people, different roles.  Bob’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt, job done.

Please don't pull the 'oh, you poor thing' face.

Please don’t pull the ‘oh, you poor thing’ face.

I was talking to a gorgeous human being on Saturday, at the wedding of a dear friend, who like me, seemed to have reached a similar point in his life.  We were chatting about our respective situations, and he said, tentatively, “Yeah, things are OK, you know.”  We’re almost scared to say it.  I have my stuff, I have my friends and family, I have my social life, I have ‘company’ when I want it, I have my job, I have my dancing, art and home.  There is nothing missing.  Thank you.

At the very same wedding, a little later on, someone pulled the ‘aaaahhhh, poor thing’ face, while I was having my photo taken with a friend (who happened to be someone else’s boyfriend), as if I were borrowing one, because I didn’t have my own.  I know your heart is in the right place, but….. please. stop. it.

* I’m working on a new acronym.  For example: DOH = Drunk Old Happy or SAUCY = Single, ‘Appy, Unapologetic, Capable. YEAH!

**Please note, this is not the way I greet/thank/pay all my service providers.  The gas man and the boy in the Orange phone shop, get a polite, “hello” and “thank you.”



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