Tag: honesty

Trust me, I know how tedious I can be

Trust me, I know how tedious I can be

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

The other week I was talking to my housemates in our kitchen about some silly romantic situation I’d gotten myself into, asking them for advice, and then in a lull in the conversation, I said ‘if you’re ever listening to me tell my tales, and you start thinking that I’m tedious, just know that I’m fully aware that I am’.

We laughed.

For all my confidence in myself and security in many aspects of my personality, I know that I can really over-egg a point. I can talk for England once you’ve got me going and even though I try my very utmost to ensure that everything I say is of interest to the listener, I acknowledge that sometimes my energy levels can be too much even for some of the people closest to me. I try to monitor it and often I think that I give myself a much harder time about it than necessary, because I know that a lot of those close to me would describe me as a good listener as well as a good talker. But one thing I’ll always appreciate about my closest friends is that they know that sometimes I just need to go off on a monologue because if I don’t say my thoughts out loud, then they’ll spiral in my head and it’ll end in tears. Ugly tears.

But I don’t ever want to feel like a burden to other people – physically or emotionally – so in those moments when I do just feel like emotionally puking, I need to know that the person I speak to won’t judge me for it.

The type of ‘tedious’ monologues I’m talking about here is when you need to workshop your stresses about work, your PMS-induced intrusive thoughts, your anxiety about thinking you’re starting to like someone and not knowing how to play it, or when you just want to sit and reminisce about that time when you were 16 and your science lesson was hilarious. Basically, the times when you’re bored of sitting in your own mind, hearing your thoughts whizz around, and you need a human connection without conditions. However, trusting someone with this very personal and vulnerable part of yourself takes a lot because you can never really tell if they’re going to think less of you for showing them it.

For example, most of the people in my life who I’m closest to now are, and have always been, very different from me; bar maybe three, they’re all introverts who’d much prefer sitting on their own reading a book than having to engage in conversation with anyone. So I know that my (occasionally) highly strung expression of emotion can be exhausting for them and there have been times when I’ve felt guilty for that part of myself. But I do believe that supposedly ‘negative’ aspects of someone’s personality can have positive implications and my tendency to sometimes get myself overly worked up about things only happens because I care so deeply. Therefore, my most trusted friends and family members have never made me feel like I can’t open up to them when I need to – even though they miiiight have sometimes preferred the conversation to last 20 minutes less.

Then again, perhaps that last bit of the sentence was unnecessary self-deprecation. Knowing my lot, if they read this then I’m about to get some messages in capslock telling me to never think like that, because if I’ve gotta talk then they’re there to listen. I’d do the same for them, only everyone’s preferred type of support isn’t the same, so whilst my therapy is nattering, I know that some of my closest friends might just need me to sit next to them and be silly whilst we watch a movie. Regardless of the actions though, it’s about showing up for people in the way that they need and making it very clear that this is a no ! judgement ! zone ! because nobody should feel ashamed of venting when they need to vent.

Why’d you text him again?

Why’d you text him again?

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Why’d you do it then, eh? Why bother texting him again when you know he’s a dick? When you know he’ll leave it a few hours (even though he’s always on his phone, and definitely knows that it’s there). When you know he’s not that interested – YOU’RE not even that interested. So if you don’t really like him that much then why bother with putting yourself through the annoyance of it? Why’d you text him, if all you’re going to do is avoid your social media, waiting for his name to disappear from your notifications screen? What’s the point? Just ignore him, and forget about it. Yes, good idea. Delete the message thread, forget about it, move it along. Until the next one that is…

Hands up if you felt personally attacked by that first paragraph!

Well, if it’s any consolation, I just read myself to absolute filth and those were all questions my friends have asked me plenty of times, though I’ve undoubtedly asked myself them more. So, why do we text him – or her ! – over and over, when we’re the first ones to admit how tedious it all is? Where’s the logic?

For me, I think it’s a combination of lots of things. For example, the being constantly exposed to media and culture where romantic relationships seem to be necessary for overall happiness, the desperately wanting to feel known by someone (and to know them), the hormones, and the heavy, heavy boredom. I think it’s defo the hormones and the boredom which override the logic on a consistent basis, though. Which is fun.

On a less personal note, however, I think that what’s keeping us shushing the logical parts of ourselves is that romantic relationships are all we ever seem to talk about. Whether it’s a discussion of someone you just walked past and found attractive, your favourite celebrity, someone you had sex with last week, someone you might ask out on a date, or even the more abstract discussion of ‘who, out of our mates, would you date if you HAD to?’, sex and relationships are just constantly on the mind. In fact, the only people I know who don’t discuss these topics as regularly, are the ones in relationships – but even they get excited by their single friends’ tales of romance.

I’ve no clue why all of us are so hung up on this aspect of life, and I’m well aware that I’m as bad as anyone for it. But it’s the New Year, and I hAvE a rEsOLuTion people !! I’d sincerely like to stop wasting my time just for the sake of it.

I love people, I love a flirt, and I love a bit of drama, so I’ve had my fair share of situations with boys since the age of about fifteen. Still, I could honestly only count on one hand the lads that I was genuinely interested in; everyone else, I either fancied but knew it’d never work, or didn’t even fancy them that much, I just liked the attention. Oh god that sounds awful, doesn’t it? But we’ve all done it! In fact, I’m 100% sure that there have been plenty of occasions when boys have been thinking this way about me; it’s not a reflection on you (though it can certainly feel like that sometimes), it’s just how it is.

A few months ago, I was sitting on my friend’s bed, having a bit of a it’s-winter-I’m-tired-I-don’t-want-to-write-any-more-essays-can-it-be-Christmas-now sob, and in the middle of it I said the words ‘I’m just so tired of feeling this lonely’. I know, tragic. And I’ve written many blogs about how I’ve not wanted to be single for years; how I’ve felt left out because the only romantic experiences I’ve had so far have been a headache. Though, other reasons have also exacerbated these thoughts, like how much easier dealing with shit like my feet would be if I just had someone there who’s interested enough to care. Or even the fact that doing things would be nicer if there was someone there to do them with. But as bored as I am of being lonely, I’m more bored of saying how bored and lonely I am. So I’m not going to do it anymore.

Famous last words…

I’m seriously going to give it a go this time though!! I know I’ll probably stumble, because it’s surprisingly difficult to avoid all drama at a university where that seems to be all anyone talks about; not to mention the fact that I’m a total sucker for the will-they-won’t-they first stages. But I’m unbelievably picky, and stuff doesn’t work out; I end up getting upset, feeling like a failure, and we’re back to square one. SO, I’m going to start asking myself if I really will benefit from texting him again, when I know that we wouldn’t work and I don’t like him as much as I like the attention. I’m going to wait and see if he’s got the balls to show me that he likes me, before I try to control everything. And last on the list of New Years’ Resolutions: I’m going to acknowledge that there’s no time for pointless drama when there’s a degree to get, and a life after university to figure out. No more drunk-texting: only fun, easy, stress-free situations.

Come on 2022, you can give me that, can’t you?

I don’t wanna hear it anymore

I don’t wanna hear it anymore

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Sometimes when I’m at a house party, people come up to me and ask me about my blog, often interested in how I decide what to write about. The only way I can describe the process is that a topic will pop into my head, and I’ll feel a compulsion to type something about it: I guess it’s like a diary in that sense. Unlike a diary though, I know that these words will be read by others so I edit them and I rationalise them in an attempt to not sound like a prat. I can’t promise that I manage it every time, but we do our best. Although today, I’m not going to edit and I’m not going to rationalise: we’re just gunna go with it.

To make an extremely long, and tumultuous story short, in the past couple of weeks I’ve come to realise that I’ve never really been in a romantic situation with a lad where he’s tried as hard to get to know and understand me as much as I have him. I’ve consistently been the one who’s been actively interested in a bigger way than the physical sense; asking all of the questions, noticing the small things, and making an effort to work out what’s important to the person I’m interested in. And this realisation came to me when I was cleaning my room, sorting my shoes out, listening to music. I was feeling so relaxed and so honestly myself, and it made me think that there are so many parts of who I am that I’ve never shared with someone because I’ve been too busy trying to get to know them, and they’ve never asked.

That feeling was of course, kind of sad, but at the same time, it made me realise just how stressful ‘dating’ can be. How people have spent so much time and energy messing with my head, telling me yes then telling me no then telling me they would if they could but they can’t so they won’t; making it seem like I’m involved in the situation when really it’s just about them. I’m involved by name, but I’m never particularly relevant. Yawn.

So I went upstairs to my housemate the other day when I was feeling a little low, and I mentioned all of these feelings to her, and after listening to me she thought over all of the romantic relationships she’s had with boys and she completely empathised with me. Then without even bringing up how I’ve been feeling, multiple girls just this week have told me how they’re tired of being wanted physically; being told they’re hot by a drooling drunken boy at 2am, but never being given the time of day once the sun comes up.

Fortunately, I’m pretty emotionally robust so I can deal with the rejection. However, just because a person’s self-esteem is in decent condition, that doesn’t make it indestructible. And being told by someone that they’re really into you, or they really fancy you, is lovely for 2 seconds but it very quickly becomes hurtful if all it is is words. What I mean by that, is that the words become less believable if you don’t do anything about them. I’m flattered in the moment, but I’ve been in so many situations like this where boys have put my hopes up so far, then at best ignored me, that at this point I don’t trust words.

I don’t really understand why this is a thing, and I don’t know why I seem to attract it, but god almighty it’s a headache. Not least does messing with someone’s head like this fuck with their feelings, but it made me feel completely objectified at points. After the excitement of the moment had faded, I’d wake up and wonder if what’d actually happened there was a young lad only saying what he’d thought I wanted to hear because he wanted to sleep with me. Making that dramatic confession untrue, and all the emotional turmoil completely unnecessary.

All of this isn’t to say that I hate every lad I’ve had a situationship with; I’m still quite fond of a few of them, but I have to say my piece because I’m tired. Not to mention the fact that a healthy level of self-esteem doesn’t just happen; it’s incredibly fragile and takes a lot of work to maintain. So I refuse to allow the yeah-but-no-but treatment I’ve had from lads this year, to morph into self-criticism and thus take a toll on my self-esteem. Naturally, this is always easier said than done but once again, we do our best.

Thus, I want to finish with a request for all my readers (no matter your gender): please think before you speak. Decide whether what you’re about to tell a person is beneficial to them, or do you just want to say it to help yourself? Go into things with the correct intentions, and try not to fuck with someone’s head in the process. You might not always manage it, but it’s always worth a try. Because personally, I don’t need or want to hear it anymore, if you’re not going to do anything about it.

Grind don’t stop

Grind don’t stop

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

What have I been thinking recently?

Not a whole lot if I’m honest. I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts. Pretending the sun is way warmer than it actually is. I went oUt oUt on Thursday; that was exciting. I watched The Little Mermaid yesterday.

I’ve been kind of tired.

We’re in the very last stretch of the university year and intellectually, I’m exhausted. I’m not walking around like a zombie, sleeping 15 hours a day – though I do generally need 9-10 hours of sleep a day to function, but that’s besides the point. I’ve been having a great time over the last couple of weeks, seeing and spending time with my friends and family and getting excited about restrictions easing. But during all the laughs there’s still this constant nagging in my head reminding me that I’ve got work and deadlines, and it’s making me really tired.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy my degree, because I honestly do find researching and writing essays, and speaking foreign languages incredibly fun. But this last academic year has been so taxing and I’m just bored of looking at screens. I don’t want to have to open up my laptop and sit for at least 5 hours a day doing vocabulary, or grammar exercises, or researching and writing essays. I look at the blank digital pages where my 2,500-word essay should be and though I’ve never struggled to have opinions, I feel like I have nothing worthwhile to say anymore. So I avoid it, but that only makes the process longer.

It’s just that the sun’s coming out, and restrictions are finally lifting after the most stressful year of pretty much everyone’s lives, but those deadlines still beckon. (!!) And I know that it might sound like I’m complaining about nothing but my friends and I have had a year of online university-learning and it’s been really hard. Just last term, we would each walk around the house letting out short screams or hysterical laughter or mantras of ‘can’t be arsed, can’t be arsed, can’t be arsed, I can do it, I can do it, don’t wanna do it, have to do it, gunna do it’ from the kitchen all the way back to our laptops, on our desks, in our rooms. And whilst it was always kind of funny to hear who was ‘losing it’ today, the stress and lack of motivation have been rEAl this year.

Nonetheless, even though we’re all burnt the fuck out, there’s really not that long left now: last push and then we can spend a day not studying, without feeling guilty about it or reaping the consequences the next time we sit down at our desks.

So, back to the laptop screens we go, but just for a few more weeks this time kids. Deep breaths.

Xx

Please don’t waste my time

Please don’t waste my time

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Lord knows that I’m appreciative of men. Some of my favourite people on the planet are men, and most of the time I’d probably prefer the company of a man rather than a woman. But I’m sorry lads, sometimes you can be absolute trash.

This past year I’ve experienced a (sometimes) overwhelming feeling of loneliness when it comes to romance. I’m 21 years old now and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve not been all that lucky when it comes to love for reasons I can’t really control. Naturally, this has gotten me in my feelings at points but this past year has made me lose all patience with the game of it.

I don’t know about you ladies, but I’ve wasted far too much time and energy on boys who have no clue what or who they want…and I am SICK OF IT. Whether it be talking to the straight-up f**k boys who chat a lot of romance until they’re around their mates, or the ‘nice’ lads who like you but not as much as they think you like them – not that they ever actually ask you how interested you are – I’m exhausted from the soap opera of it all.

This accommodation of men and their feelings we spend so much of our time doing, has got to end. If you’re texting a boy and he’s being sketchy, just cut it off. If you feel like you’re convincing someone to spend time with you, stop it. If when you talk about him to your mates you’re constantly making excuses to make him seem like less of a pr*ck, realise what you’re doing and how little sense that makes.

Many lads say that they want ‘simple’ and complain about how complicated girls are all of the time, but I’m sorry, from my experience the male species are riddles wrapped in enigmas that I’m expected to unravel. Why? Why should I do that? I don’t want to have to do that. I’m not making you do the same with me…

This isn’t an angry rant, because I feel calmer about my love life than I have for a really long time. I’m not saying that I don’t still want a boyfriend – that’d be ideal to be honest – I’m just at the point where I can’t face the game of it anymore. It’s really unrewarding. I’m also not trying to imply that I’m perfect when it comes to romance; nobody is. But I do know that I try to always treat people with respect, and I never waste anyone’s time on purpose.

After all, if someone values and respects you enough, then they’ll make an effort to spend time with you. If they don’t – regardless of what they say – then they’ll mess you about. Unfortunately however, it does seem like the age we’re at is a time when most people just want to mess about a bit. And that’s fair enough: you’re young, have some fun. But I want to have a fun, exciting, adult relationship with someone who cares about me as much as I do them, and I don’t see why that should have to start with some pointless game of ‘who’s going to text first?’.

So I’m not gunna do it anymore, and neither should you.

I want to go for a walk

I want to go for a walk

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 2 Comments

For me, disability causes a constant conflict between personality and body. Ever since I was small I’ve struggled to mesh the two together because I’ve never wanted to accept that there are things that I’ll never be able to do. From the age of about 8 until 14 I was awful for it: I’d just do everything that my friends were doing because I wanted to, and I’d rarely give a second thought to my feet. But then I’d end up with infections, and in a wheelchair. So living that way didn’t get me very far.

After about the age of 16 I’d managed to (sort of) make my peace with it. I accepted that I couldn’t ever live my life the way most people could, and I mourned it, but ultimately I realised that those are just the cards I’ve been dealt. I mean, my disability could be so much worse, and what do I gain from fighting it?

Then I was 19 and I had my gap year. I proved to myself that I could travel the world on my own: I went to seriously remote places, away from medical institutions, and showed myself that doing what I want to do doesn’t always have to end in infection and debilitation. It might sound trivial to you, but it was breaking news to me, my family and my doctors.

This year, quarantine happened and after a while the government started allowing people out for walks and exercise. This change to the lockdown brought so much relief to most people, but not to me because I can’t just go out for a run. I can’t just walk down loads of steps to the beach and then back up them, because if I do, I have to accept that I might injure myself. I might put myself in a wheelchair.

This is where we get back to how complicated disability is, because many of my readers have seen me in person and have seen me walk plenty of times. I can walk short distances, and I’ve been known to dance for hours on a night out, but sometimes it’s just luck that I don’t end up with a blister after doing these things. I’m a seasoned professional when it comes to internalising my worries and pushing my disability as far as it can go. I’m stubborn and I’m young, and I don’t see why all my friends can but I can’t. Like I said, it’s a constant conflict.

But I don’t write these blogs to be all ‘woe is me’. Loads of people have it so much worse than I do, and everyone does the best with what they’ve got. It’s just that if I’m going to write blogs about when I feel empowered by being a young disabled woman, then I have to show you the side of my condition which gives me no joy whatsoever.

Some days I just don’t want to be this disabled person. It makes me feel weak and suffocated. I don’t want to have to think about whether I can go somewhere, I want to be able to just go. Sometimes I look at my feet and wonder how it’s fair that I have to be the only person I know who can’t just wear normal shoes and have normal legs. I wonder how it’s fair that I’ll have this for the rest of my life, and how I’m supposed to get over it when there’s nothing I, or anyone else can do to ever improve it.

There are no solutions to these problems. Life doesn’t work in ‘fair’ and ‘unfair’ – especially when I don’t believe in any type of God. As far as I can see, random people get random sacks of sh** to deal with, and we move. I have a really good time even with the headache of my Spina Bifida, and it’s shaped me in so many positive ways. To be honest, if someone told me that I could flick a switch to get rid of it I’m not even sure that I would. Disability can enrich a person’s perspective on the world and life in many ways, but I’d never, ever, wish it on anyone.

Not feeling it

Not feeling it

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 2 Comments

Until yesterday, I wasn’t going to write a mid-week blog. Mostly because I’ve spent so much time with myself these past 52 days. 52 days man: I’ve not been outside in almost 2 months. (!) In fact, I have absolutely no clue what the country I’ve been living in for that time even looks like. If it’s past the view from the windows, then I’ve never seen it.

So the routine of my week kind of revolves around writing blogs now. But I’m only any good at this when I’ve got something to say, and how can I have anything to say when I don’t do anything? I’m trying to write down the things I talk about in my head, but I’m soooooo bored of hearing that little voice blabbering on all the time. I’d kinda like to hear someone else for a bit.

Lol didn’t manage it though, did I? Here we are, reading another instalment of that little voice’s monologue… ah well.

Quarantine has been a serious strain on the mental well-being of my parents and I. We never argue and we get along uncharacteristically well, so generally speaking we’re totally fine. We have a laugh and our issues are never with each other. But human beings aren’t built to be locked inside for months on end; it doesn’t matter how much they like each other.

Thankfully, me, my mum and my dad have somehow managed to alternate our breakdowns so none of us have been miserable at the same time so far. It’s not every day but every now and then, it just hits you. And whoever isn’t feeling like jumping out of the window on that day, gets the job of comforting whoever does. Lots of hugs, loud music, drunken dancing on the balcony, crisps and chocolate, Blue Planet, Judy Garland, sarcastic jokes. You know, usual family stuff.

But what I’m trying to get at in this blog, is that if you’re waking up some days feeling absolutely miserable then that’s a totally valid feeling to have right now. It’s a completely mad, upsetting time. It doesn’t matter how lovely your house is, or how amazing the people you’re locked in with are, sometimes you just can’t face another day doing the same thing, in the same rooms, surrounded by the same people, with no idea of when you’ll all be able to do something else.

I could end this with ‘hey, it’s mostly not that bad, let’s not dwell’ – a very true point. But there’s a lot to be said for allowing yourself a minute to just listen to some maungy music and bask in how crap you feel. You don’t always have to rationalise things; sometimes you just feel rubbish. And we’ve been stuck in the house for weeks with no prospect of an end date, in a world where the only news story seems to be how many people are dying. So if that isn’t an excuse to feel sad for a day, then I don’t know what is.

Xx

Yes, I actually sound like that

Yes, I actually sound like that

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 1 Comment

I’ve had many people tell me that social class is really not a thing that’s relevant to Britain anymore. But then the people who say this tend to be from middle to upper class households. Thus their opinion isn’t going to be so appropriate when applied to those lower down in the pecking order…

I’m pretty solidly middle class: I was born in Durham and grew up in a very pretty part of Bradford. Both of my parents are English teachers, I went to a normal West Yorkshire state school and I’m not the first member of my family to go to University. But I’m also not rich: there have been many things in my life which I couldn’t afford, and I’ve had jobs since I was 16. In fact, I worked 3 of them to pay for my entire gap year and then spent most of my time abroad working anyway.

Whereas, both of my parents are working class through and through: my mum is from Bradford, West Yorkshire and my dad is from Blyth, a small ex-mining town north-east of Newcastle. They were the first of both of their immediate families to attend University and are very proud of coming from these parts of England.

This means that whilst I’m a comfortable middle class citizen, a significant portion of my values, experiences and personality come from being raised by my parents. Therefore part of me will always be kind of working class.

When I moved to University, my parents were so specific in making sure I knew that I was going to be surrounded by people who came from different, wealthier upbringings than I. They didn’t want me to harbour any prejudices but most of all they didn’t want me to feel intimidated. Luckily, I’m pretty non-judgemental as it is, so social class and where people come from or what they sound like matter very little to me. And if you asked most people, it’s likely that they’d say the same. However, just because someone says that they don’t actively care about things such as this, it doesn’t mean that the differences don’t exist.

So at University I’ve found myself in a bit of a sticky spot. This is because whilst I’m middle class like many of my friends, I’m also Northern English. And the north of England is an entirely different world to the south. I’m not working class enough to fit with the working class students, but a middle class life in London is very very very different to one in Bradford.

But how exactly do I not fit?

Well let’s take my accent as an example. I love the West Yorkshire accent, and in all honesty I really don’t have a strong version of it. But it’s definitely there and I definitely made a point of keeping it when I moved for University. I’d expected some teasing of my accent, because I knew that most of the other students would probably be southerners. But what I didn’t expect was someone to just straight-up ask me ‘oh wow, do you actually speak like that?’, surprised that I could be clever and still miss out my ‘t’s.

Mad isn’t it? Clever people with Yorkshire accents exist?!

I also just don’t have access to so much of my friends’ experience of school. I mean, we sat around the table one time and they were talking about their time as prefects. Prefects?! That wasn’t a thing at my school hahahah, and it sounds like something straight out of an old Enid Blyton book to me.

I love Durham University and many of the people I’ve met. But I’d be lying if I said that I feel like I fit in. To be honest, I don’t really feel like I fit in at home either but home is easier, because everything is so familiar – and nobody comments on how I sound, since we all sound like that.

I don’t prefer one world to the other at all, in fact I love that I can live in more than one. Moving has just made me realise how much of a north-south divide there really is. Sometimes I feel like I’m from an entirely different country, but I’m really not and it shouldn’t be like that.

But all that these differences come down to is wealth, and the north needs more of it.

Third-wheeling

Third-wheeling

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 1 Comment

I never really wrote a diary when I was younger: I’d just write entries sporadically- and when I say sporadically, I’m talking a couple a year. Sometimes they’d be about pointless fall-outs with my friends, but more often than not the content would discuss what you’d expect a teenage girl to write about: boys. Girls lOve to talk about boys, and as pathetic as I might feel to voice my feelings on this subject, I’d be lying if this weren’t something that plays on my mind – and has done since puberty. So in an effort to continue to be uncomfortably honest in my writing, off we go.

Love and relationships are so weird to me. Society completely obsesses over them, making single people feel like they should stop being single at the first opportunity. There’s also this weird culture in my generation where people are always searching for the best: they could be talking to someone they really really like, but they can’t possibly commit to a relationship label because what if they meet someone better? But then you can’t end it completely because you haven’t found anyone better yet, so let’s just not have a label: I’ll tell you I love you but get with other people – sound good?

No. That literally just sounds stupid. Lol.

Then there’s the people who stay with someone they’re not really vibing anymore because they’re scared to try something new. This scenario also doesn’t make sense to me…but then I’ve never had a boyfriend, so how would I know?

I’ve gotten really good at living vicariously through others’ relationships. Honestly, at this point I think I could probably put ‘professional third-wheel’ on my CV – contact me for enquiries and bookings, I can be available any day of the week. But as much as I love third-wheeling, always doing it is getting a bit boring now.

With the boys I’ve ‘dated’ (not sure my experiences really qualify for that title but anyway) I’ve never felt the strong feelings music, literature and film tell me I should feel, so it’s clearly not been right. It’s common knowledge that humans learn by example, and the most influential romantic relationship I’ve observed has been my parents: they’re perfect for each other. Not only are they madly in love, but they’re also each other’s best friend and connect on every level. It’s an utterly beautiful thing to see when growing up and it’s meant that I’ve never (really) wasted my time with toxic or superficial relationships. However, the flip-side is that now my expectations are stupidly high. I don’t regret not having a boyfriend during school because I now know exactly what type of person I am/want to be – a luxury many girls my age don’t have. But I do also kind of feel like I’ve missed out on something, being 20 and having never properly dated anyone.

To be fair though, I think this feeling was exacerbated by my first term at University. I thought I’d meet new people and the trend I’ve experienced with boys so far would end, but I’ve just been confronted by the same old bull****. Since the age of about 15, I’ve consistently been told by boys that I’m intimidating, I’m ‘too much’ (a direct quotation) or that I’m amazing but they’d never go there. All of these comments were either offensive or just didn’t make much sense to me. But the killer of the recurring themes has been that boys already with girlfriends think I’m great. Can’t really do anything in that situation can I?

Thankfully, I’ve always refused to settle or to change myself according to what a boy said he wanted – although I did briefly try one time when I was younger. Bad idea. The fact is that if someone compliments you profusely but then follows that up with not wanting to get to know you or spend time with you, then they’re just not that into you (or worth your time). Annoying when that’s all that ever seems to happen though innit.

I know, I know, I know, I’m young, I’ve got plenty of time.

These reassurances are true, but people of all ages still get bored and annoyed by stuff like this all the time. Relationships are shoved in our faces so many times a day that of course when you can’t relate, you’re going to get jealous and impatient. Not wanting to be single can be the most depressing and tedious part of your day, but the important thing to do is to stick to your guns and not compromise for someone. Truth be told, eventually you (and I) will find someone: we’ll be the ones telling others to chill out about wanting a relationship, trying very hard to hide our smugness at already being in one. So keep ploughing on, and remind yourself that whoever you end up calling your boyfriend/girlfriend will have been worth the wait.

I mean, my lad will have enough balls to like the things about me that everyone else called ‘intimidating’ or ‘too much’- and that level of confidence sounds pretty hot to me.