Am I responsible for my never-ending singledom?

At this moment in time I honestly feel like I’m destined to be single forever. In fact, the odds of Anna Wintour herself calling to personally offer me a job at Vogue seem more likely than the prospect of finding a nice boyfriend in time for summer. I’d love to know what the secret it; where this mythical man with certified ‘BOYFRIEND POTENTIAL’ status stamped across his forearm lies. But could it be that I’m looking for answers in all the wrong places? While it’s true that in the two and a half years that I’ve been single I’ve questioned the psychological make up of the less-fairer sex extensively, I seldom bring my own behaviour under scrutiny. Perhaps the true reason why I’m still on my own lies a little closer to home.

Complaining about my seemingly endless single status to my brother over the weekend, he raised the point that I was in no position to gripe when I write off guys for the most trivial reasons. While it’s true that I have, in the past, dumped someone I was seeing on the basis that they were only ever free for dates on Sunday evenings, and another because he made me buy the first round of drinks at the bar (these are not some of my proudest moments, I hasten to add), I always blamed the end of our trysts on their shortcomings.

Older brother’s advice threw me into a brief wine-induced spin of self doubt (being a male and thus infinitely more knowledgable about their mindset). Was I guilty of sabotaging my own happiness before it even began? Men, he reminded me, are a complex breed and it’s not always possible for women to understand the logic behind their strange actions. Fundamentally a lot of the guys I’ve dated have been nice, well raised boys, they’ve just cocked up early on and I’ve been unwilling to forgive them.

After a tall glass of water and some soul searching, I brought myself back to reality. The trouble is that while this sentiment is nice, it’s easy to subscribe to when you’re out of the harsh world of modern dating as my brother is. In the midst of it you’re susceptible to a hell of a lot of bullshit, and if you don’t keep your guard up it becomes soul-destroying beyond the usual desolation of swiping through sleazebag after sleazebag on Tinder. Anyone in the dating game will tell you they’ve come to form a wall of self protection out of necessity.

Yet there is something about dating that makes us uncharacteristically harsh. First dates are like much like auditions in which you scrutinise everything from each other’s ambitions to choice of footwear over a lukewarm G&T; the second date dinner is a three-course boot camp and, well, you’re lucky if you see them again after that. Often we’re willing our date to slip up and reveal they’re actually a bit psycho so we can justify never seeing them or their hideous shoes again; it’s probably not the most constructive way to find a life partner.

Then I remember that I did give aforementioned first round guy a final chance, a ‘movie date’ that involved him plying me with gin then never contacting me again after he realised I wasn’t a third-date-third-base kind of girl. So maybe my instincts aren’t so far off after all.

Dating apps broken down by A/S/L

Living in London and armed with technology, the dating world is truly yours for the taking. But with so many different apps and sites available to download for free, each one with its own unique demographics, it’s hard to know if you’re looking in the right place. Whether it’s a brief encounter or long-lasting love you’re hankering after, here’s my guide to the Big 5 dating apps on the market right now, as tried and tested (repeatedly) by yours truly.

Plenty Of Fish

The original free dating site, where most of us dipped our toes into the online dating world before Tinder came along and it really took off. To this day, there remains something old-school about Plenty of Fish, namely having to write more than 140 characters about yourself and corresponding through a very formal messaging system. The cliental is a real Russian-roulette of men with a few, albeit shiny, gems hidden in between countless shifty-looking ‘dj’s’ and ‘music producers’ old enough to be your father.

Great if: you’re a fan of quality over quantity and like taking your time to get to know a new partner

Not for you: you’re impatient, short with words or bad at making the first move

Tinder

The daddy of dating apps. Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past two years, you will at some point have downloaded Tinder and witnessed hours of your life flash by as you swiped left or right. Single, taken- it doesn’t really matter, everyone is on it, and that’s precisely the problem. Those singletons still using Tinder are bored with it, so much so that no one makes any effort to actually meet up for dates anymore. In short, it’s become a glorified hook up app you can count on for some drunken entertainment at 1am.

Great if: you need a quick fix of lovin’ or an ego boost

Not for you: you want any form of commitment from your partner

Happn

Tinder’s slicker, sexier, career-driven cousin, Happn, is a melting pot of young professionals living life in the fast lane. if you’re lucky enough to work in a vibrant area like Soho or Liverpool Street take your pick of marketing execs, PR account managers and financial analysts quite literally on your doorstep. Much like Tinder you’re matched on location and mutual interest, yet this app still has a certain buzz around it. That being said, I’ve yet to meet anyone who’s actually been on a Happn date, so perhaps we’re all too busy climbing the career ladder to actually make any plans.

Great if: you’re an ambitious young thing bedazzled by the bright lights of the new media industry

Not for you: you want someone dependable to spend lazy Sunday afternoons with

OK Cupid

A dating site where the quest for love is taken somewhat more seriously. Unfortunately that often transpires to the attitudes of those who use it. OK Cupid asks users to list their favourite novels, TV shows and films in their profile, and there’s a real element of self-indulgence in most responses. Conversation openers are calculated and witty, although not necessarily charming, and don’t even think about making the first move without comparing yourself against the explicit checklist outlined on the majority of profiles.

Great if: you’re after a committed relationship with someone your mum would most likely approve of

Not for you: you’re not a fan of philosophical literature, Michael Mcyntire or progressive rock

J Swipe

Part of the niche market, along with the likes of Minder and ChristianDatingForFree.com, but by no means an exclusive app. J Swipe brings together those of faith and non-believers alike with a semi-ironic, and mildly offensive, mazeltov animation each time you match. As a relatively new platform where no one using it seems to know precisely what their intentions are, unless you really are religious, it’s hard to get beyond the novelty value.

Great if: you spent your teenage years crushing on Seth Cohen

Not for you: you’re a shiksa looking to settle down any time soon

 

The singleton’s guide to a solo Valentine’s

Fun fact: playground boyfriends aside, I have been single on pretty much every Valentine’s Day of my life. That’s 22 years of relationship envy, ‘anonymous’ cards from my mum and a hell of a lot of quality time with my dear friends Blossom Hill and Jacob’s Creek.

I’ve tried to commemorate the day that every single girl dreads (and is lying if they say otherwise) in every horribly clichéd way there is. I’ve done the man hating anti-Valentine’s vodka fest, the hysterical girl power pulling sesh, and, probably the best V Day I’ve had to date, the gay bff dinner.

One big flaw in all of these options is that they depend on your immediate friends being single on the big day and, as I’ve found this year with bff now happily coupled off and hence unavailable for our annual ‘it’s so great riding solo‘ carb fest, the only thing worse than being single on Valentine’s is being single and without plans because everyone else is shacked up with their S.O.

That’s why I’ve decided to spend this year’s festivities with the person most dear to me- myself- by indulging in a pamper evening like no other. And unlike relying on friends, I know for a fact that, bar a last minute dream date from David Beckham/Gandy/Craig (I’m really not fussy), I’ll be free.

Before you judge me too harshly, I’m not planning a pity party consisting of self-loathing and an industrial size bag of Kettle Chips- a date with yourself can actually be a pretty classy affair. What’s to dispute about cooking a swanky meal you’ve always wanted to try, buying a nice bottle of wine and enjoying a few large glasses with a classic film? This Saturday I’ll be taking a long bath, painting my nails and enjoying every moment of solitary bliss. Being single on Valentines doesn’t have to be tragic if you don’t want it to.

Kissing frogs: an open letter to all the unsuitable men I dated in 2014

Fun fact: the inspiration behind Sass Diaries actually came from being dumped by a guy that I briefly dated earlier in the year (you can see the very first post I wrote here). Since then I’ve shared my opinion on the highs and lows of modern romance a fair few times, so really I have to hand it to all the losers I dated this year for providing such stellar writing material, and thank them with this open letter.

Dear ex-boyfriends, ex-flings and those of you who never bothered to call me back in 2014,

Call me old fashioned, but I’m a bit of a dreamer when it comes to romance. The old saying goes that you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you meet your prince. Despite kissing a good third of the UK frog population, I still truly have faith that the right guy is out there (or, y’know, a ripped Tom Hardy lookalike with zero commitment issues). It’s just going to take a bit of time to pick him out from the crowd.

As painful as it was at the time, all the bad dates, heartbreak and rejection I went through did get me closer to my happy ending. Eliminating unsuitable men (and believe me, last year I dated them all- unavailable, uncommitted, uninterested) was constructive even if it felt like a massive bore at the time. I like to think that from each one of these trysts I learnt a little something about myself that I can take forward with me. Realising what you don’t want from a relationship can be just as useful as knowing your priorities.

To the guy who wined and dined me like a princess, but ultimately could never commit- thanks for teaching me that superficial gestures mean nothing if both parties aren’t on the same page. Or the serial cheater who taught me to spot the warning signs, thanks for reminding me to always go with my gut. And finally to the plain old lacklustre men I seemed to date in spades, it’s down to you that I realised I deserve more.

Perhaps 2015 will be the year when I put the bullshit to one side and find myself someone who treats me right. Or maybe I still have more to learn. Either way, here’s to all the bastards who have broken my heart in some form or other. Without you, I’d still be that one step further away.

10 great things about being single at Christmas (and 10 not so great…)

1. Gingerbread lattes for breakfast, mince pies for lunch and turkey sandwiches for dinner- who cares if you’re squeezing into your jeans for a while when no one has to see what’s hiding under your Christmas jumper

2. Christmas parties left right and centre- and the tantalising promise of who you might meet under the mistletoe

3. Plus the excuse of too much mulled wine, New Years traditions, and a mutual desire not to be alone over the festive period all provide the perfect opportunity to pull

4. Commitment-free yuletide flings should you start dating anyone after Relationship Deadline Day. Who cares if he’s just a winter boyfriend who’ll be gone faster than the needles drop off your Christmas tree?

5. On a similar note, not having to continue dating/ spend quality family time with someone while counting down the days till the 2nd Jan so you can dump them within the correct time frame (and let’s face it, we’ve all been there at some point)

6. No invites from in-laws, boyfriend’s friends or any other pressing occasions you’d rather not attend. Single girls make their own social calendar at Christmas.

7. No need to venture into hellholes like Game or any menswear department looking for the perfect gift For Him

8. Then, spending the money saved on three extra gifts for yourself

9. No joint presents or sharing of any description. I’ll be holding on to my spoilt child at Christmas card for a while yet.

10. Best of all, retreating back to your parents’ house, removing all traces of make up and slipping into your PJs for three days straight. Absolute single bliss.

And now, the not so great

1. Listening to All I want for Christmas is You or watching Love Actually and feeling all warm and fuzzy inside before realising that your own romantic ending is a long way off

2. The onslaught of family get-togethers and inevitable questions about your relationship status, or lack there of. Made worse by smug older siblings in stable relationships when you can barely scramble together a second date.

3. Missing out on dreamy winter activities like ice skating and mooching round Christmas markets (admittedly you’d probably spend half the time trying not to fall over on the ice but it’s nice to have the option)

4. Watching smug couples go on said dream dates while you cry silent tears of jealousy into your hot chocolate

5. Buying your own oversized Christmas jumper from Primark because there’s no man in your life to steal it from. Somehow not as snug.

6. Loitering in bars over cozy nights in front of the fire a deux. What’s a single girl to do?

7. One less present under the tree and the reminder that you’re still no closer to a puppy/engagement ring than you were last year

8. Long days spent with extended family with no boyfriend’s house to run off to. Nothing says ‘hi, I’m single’ like round four of charades.

9. Tinder traffic soaring from 12.01am onwards on boxing day (and logging on yourself after a few too many brandies)

10. New Year’s eve fear kicking in from 10:45 onwards (which usually results in kissing someone undesirable and breaking your resolution to have higher standards this year before it’s even properly begun)

Risk Takes & Making Mistakes

There are a lot of little reasons not to date someone. They can be frustratingly slow at replying to text messages; they might show up 10 minutes late to meet you on your second date; or maybe you just can’t rid yourself of a sneaky suspicion that something doesn’t quite add up. More often than not, however, I find myself clinging to these failures as a way of holding myself- and my feelings- back. It’s as if I go into new relationships actively looking to catch the guy out, before knowingly proclaiming “I told you so” and reverting back to the safety net of singledom once again.

I know at first it seems that by ignoring any initial doubts you’re setting yourself up for failure- after all, why pursue someone when you’re unsure from the outset. That being said, there’s a marked difference between nagging insecurities and a genuine show of poor character and, unfortunately,the only way to decipher between the two is to let the scenario play out. Sure, you’ll probably make your fair share of bad judgements and mistakes along the way, but the alternative is to close yourself off to any chance of romance (and any fun at all, for that matter.)

There’s a lot to be said for taking a few risks in life, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. I’m by no means asserting that it’s ok to let a guy treat you badly, and you should definitely have a clear line in your head as to where the minor faux pas end and pure shoddiness begins. Just bear in mind that dating is a tough game, and men, no matter how much we might wish for it, are not perfect, so maybe it’s worth letting go of any impossibly high expectations, just for a while. It might lead to something great. Alternatively it could all end in tears, but I’d rather be the girl who loved and lost than someone cold hearted who never lived at all.

 

 

12 things I miss about teenage relationships

Sad times- the days of MSN Messenger are officially over. Microsoft have finally pulled the plug once and for all on every 00’s kid’s favourite instant messaging site (in the pre-Facebook and WhatsApp days, of course). Anyone who was a teen in the early to mid 2000’s will remember the crucial position MSN Messenger had in running our social lives. More than anything, though, nothing quite matched MSN in building the early foundations of those first adolescent relationships. In honour of the service that launched a thousand teenage dreams I’ve written my favourite things about these romantic encounters, all with a weird simplicity that I kind of miss…

1. Choosing your designated ‘crush’ based on which of 10 the boys in your year group had actually reached puberty and consequently no longer totally resembled your kid brother. Bonus points for facial hair, a deep voice and a wardrobe that didn’t appear to be entirely purchased by his mum (although in retrospect it most likely had).

2. Endlessly fantasising about the day you and your beau would stroll off into the sunset but doing your upmost to prevent anyone from knowing about your feelings. I had a few crushes I would have literally taken to the grave rather than risk the humiliation that would entail anyone finding out I actually liked the boy.

3. Eventually caving and telling your best friend about said crush. Probably on MSN. Queue the chain of he-said-she-said as the news spread through the playground like wildfire. Plus side, at 13 thanks to limited competition this could quite plausibly result in success.

4. Your first ‘date’ to the cinema to see whatever 12A movie was out at the time (personal favourites included Wedding Crashers and I, Robot). Usually chaperoned by a gaggle of both sets of friends and spending your time not sitting next to your supposed boyfriend for the vast majority the film.

5. Making it official via your MSN name. Oh the sweet poetic sentiment of (L) (L).

6. Rambling, utterly pointless text or IM conversations that lasted for hours and wasted your 100 free texts for that month. Often just consisted of an exchange of emojis like :P, or 😉 for the racier among us.

6. Choosing whatever song was currently popular to be ‘your song’. Remember that Emo was big news in these days.

7. Constant PDAs. A whole relationship could be based on snogging everywhere and anywhere possible. Even in school. So gross.

8. Saying ‘I love you’ after just a few dates. No time to risk playing it cool when you’ve nabbed one of the few post-pubescent boys with decent hair in your year.

9. The rocky patch when he ran out of credit and couldn’t text you back for a whole evening.

10. Consoling these fears with a bit of  F**k It by Eamon or Christina’s girl power anthem Can’t Hold Us Down. As well as Emo this was a truly golden era for RnB.  

11. Being ‘dumped’ in creative new ways like him taking your name out of his MSN display. Or, even better, having your/his friends do the talking instead of actually communicating with one another (I’m sure a lot of guys I date would do this to me now given the chance).

12. 6 weeks, 4 dates and about a thousand texts later you could legitimately be heartbroken when your ‘relationship’ ended. Time to dig out that Eamon CD again…

18 things that go through my mind on a first date

1. Oh god for once in my life I’m 10 whole minutes early. Now he’ll probably think I want to marry him. Alternatively, fuck I’m 20 minutes late and becoming more of a hot mess by the second. (Frankly, neither is ideal.)

2. Is that really how I remember him looking?

3. Going in for a hug, arms everywhere. This is quite awkward.

4. Can I order a skinny bitch without looking completely precious? I’m nice I swear, I really just want a skinny bitch.

5. (Goes for Gin and Tonic instead to look more down to earth) I wonder how many of these I can drink before I start slurring my words.

6. Do I actually fancy this man?

7. Don’t down your drink so quickly.

8. Yes I fancy him. Oh christ but now that means I have to worry if he fancies me.

9. In answer to earlier question, four gin and tonics. I am now quite drunk.

10. With each additional drink, god I’m witty and charming.

11. Another bar? This must be going well. Ignore how drunk I am (also hope he ignores the fact that I stumbled on my way out.)

12. It’s been two hours, I should probably make my excuses and say I have somewhere else totally fabulous to be to go with my witty and charming vibe.

13. Don’t say anything and order another round instead. Foiled.

14. -Meandering walk to the tube station- I am very drunk at this point.

15. Is he going to try and kiss me?

16. Oh no- platonic hug instead. Friendzoned?

17. Please god say my Oyster Card has money on it so he can watch me waltz through the barriers like the sassy babe I am.

18. “See you soon… Hopefully!” Did I just say ‘hopefully’?! Well there goes all hope of date number 2.

It was love at first sight. But I was wearing my sunglasses…

For some inexplicable reason, whenever I travel abroad my usual taste in men suffers a dramatic overhaul. I’ve barely made it through customs before I’m lusting over men with gelled hair circa ’02, highly questionable fashion choices and even more dubious chat up lines. Allured by a foreign accent and the promise of exotic climes, my normal standards are left behind somewhere between the terminal and boarding gate.

I’ve had a few holiday romances in my time, only one of which has really lived up to the Greek God fantasy in terms of looks. The rest were all second rate impressions, blurred into the realm of attractiveness in my holiday brain by too much sun and sangria. In particular I can recall one man with ACTUAL FROSTED TIPS (this was only last year, I might add, so no excuses.)

Despite the vaguely embarrassing memories upon returning to the UK, I don’t think letting your standards slide is necessarily a bad thing. Holidays are a time to relax; sleeping in till noon, throwing on a bikini top and shorts and calling it ‘daywear’, ordering a cocktail over lunch- we tend to let our hair down when we’re away. And while I might cringe looking back on some of these encounters now, for that night alone Mr Frosted Tips made an excellent dance parter and remained a source of immense humour amongst my friends and I long after our tans had faded.

That being said, while there are a few aspects of my holiday persona I wish I could incorporate into my daily life (namely beach hair and the social acceptability of being tipsy at midday) I think I’ll leave these particular encounters to the white beaches of the Mediterranean. Much like the glorious feeling of sand between our toes the first time we step on the beach that immediately becomes a bitch to get out of our shoes the second we’re home, I’d never be able to seriously date a guy with frosted tips, and that’s precisely why the magic should reserved for a dimly-lit bar in the Greek Islands somewhere.

Hello heartbreak

I can’t remember when it was exactly that I first cried over a boy but I do know that, from about age 15 onwards, I’ve spent a few too many evenings huddled up on the corner of the sofa wiping tears away at the hands of some interchangeable male. Accompanied by several hours of my The Hills boxset and copious amounts of wine (god, what a cliche) this sacred ritual remains a strictly private affair. To my friends and the outside world, to whom I try to present myself as a resilient and self-sufficient young woman, this may even come as a surprise.

The fact is that no one is immune to heartbreak- guys, girls, unless you’re totally cold-blooded, its bound to happen to us all at some point in our lives. Yet many of us, myself included, are reluctant to admit defeat when it comes to matters of the heart. Maybe it’s because I’m a perfectionist and I can’t stand the idea that my judgement was off in pursuing someone who didn’t live up to my original expectations that I find it hard to admit to others when I’ve been wrong. I think, though, that my real issue is how difficult it is to accept that I’ve let my guard down around a guy whose intentions weren’t as honest as my own and, in doing so, mislaid my trust. For me, it’s easier just to pretend that our relationship never meant anything in the first place, to save face as much as anything.

Ultimately this exercise is completely counterproductive. Going into a state of total denial hampers any sense of closure by preventing you from actually processing what has happened. Over time, and I speak from experience, it can actually make you quite bitter. I guess what I mean to say (and I say this to myself more than anyone) is that we could all do with being kinder to ourselves in the face of heartbreak. Having your feelings trampled upon is bad enough without laying the blame at your door as if you’re some kind of failure- it’s perfectly ok to say, yes I liked them and they fucked me over. Admitting defeat doesn’t make you any less of an independent babe. Simply accept it, try to learn from your mistakes, and move on.