Tag Archives: Relationships

Feeling Powerless

19 Sunday Nov 2017

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Last night I was at an event and I saw something I didn’t like. I was at a concert set up in the Royal Botanical Gardens in Melbourne. I know the woman who runs the ticketing so I get to go to the concert for free in exchange for scanning tickets. I get paid too, but that’s not why I go.

Content Warning: male violence against women

So I was stationed outside the (very poorly sign-posted) VIP area. My job was to give people wrist bands when they showed me their ticket and then make sure that only people with wristbands went into the VIP section. I had a security guard with me keeping an eye on things.

illy publicity shot

Illy, performed at The Royal Botanical Gardens in Melbourne 18 November 2017, and was not involved in the incident in any way. Image taken from Illy’s publicity materials.

It was between sets, Thundamentals had just finished and the headliner, Illy,  was due to start in about 20 minutes when I saw it.

A man and a woman, in the VIP area, standing near the fence. They were clearly having a fight, the woman was crying. Then the man grabbed her by the back of her neck and put his head close to hers.

It had now gone from watching a couple have a tiff to witnessing an assault. The security guard next to me, a 53-year-old woman of Macedonian descent (I know both of these things because she told me), saw these two and stiffened but made no move to approach them.

I watched as the man spoke in her ear for several minutes. He released his hold on her neck. She moved to stand a foot or so away from him, arms folded. He held her upper arm and continued to speak to her.

I was too far away to hear what was being said but it was clear he was belittling her. He then hugged her. The first time he tried to embrace her, she flinched away, he went in again and she let him, but made no move to hug him back. The security guard seemed to relax, we both thought that maybe the situation was deescalating.

About five minutes later the woman pushed him away. I heard him say something along the lines of ‘you may as well just go home then, you stupid cunt.’ She left the VIP area, and I watched her walk to the exit. I kept an eye out for her for the next half an hour, till  the end of my shift, and she didn’t come back.

‘It’s better that they should be separated,’ the security guard said to me.

‘I was about to go over there myself,’ I said.

‘Yes, but you never know when it will go up.’

I had chosen my own comfort and safety while watching another woman, a woman who was clearly accustomed to being treated terribly, being assaulted.

Later another woman, a punter, came up and asked the security guard whether we’d seen it and why we hadn’t intervened. The security guard gave her the same explanation that she’d given me; that we don’t want to escalate into something more dangerous for her and for us.

But that seemed wrong to me. How can I feel comfortable standing by as a man assaulted a woman, threatened her, bullied her, destroyed her self-worth and reinforced his insidious hold over her? How can I justify that my inaction with the platitude that if I intervene it might be worse? She thinks she’s alone; that people around her didn’t care, or worse, that they thought she deserved it.

The whole thing made me feel dirty. I was complicit in the perpetuation of male violence against women by my inaction.

That old saying that the behaviour you walk past is the behaviour you condone has been ringing in my ears today. I want something in my tool box for the next time this happens, because I know it will happen again.

In the moment

06 Monday Feb 2017

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There are a lot of things that I’m trying to work on with myself at the moment. I’ve had a pretty difficult time over the last few months and I feel like finally I’m getting back on track. I’m not there yet, and I know there is more work that needs to be done, but I’m feeling hopeful.

The thing I’m struggling with most is actually being present in the moment. I spend so much time thinking of the past or of the future. Yesterday I had high tea in the country with my beautiful partner and it was so good. I was enjoying being there with him and I wanted to really savour it, but I felt myself being pulled away from the delicious food and amazing company by pressure to be interesting.

I don’t know whether that’s the same thing, but it still felt intrusive.

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High tea with bae #foodporn #christmaspresent #date

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I want to be better at sitting with what’s happening right now. I have a strong imagination, I’ve been feeding it to develop my writing, and now I worry that I use it to tell myself stories; that the past was more interesting, or the future will be more interesting.

I’m not good at sitting quietly and enjoying what’s happening. It feels like maybe I’m missing out on the moments that matter because I’m worrying about the moments next week.

On the other hand, perhaps the fact that I’m catching myself doing it is a sign that I’m getting better at holding onto the present. I’ve been doing a meditation practice since the start of the year and I think that it’s really helping. Taking time, every day, to sit with myself and pay attention to what’s happening in my mind, to acknowledge it and gently try to calm it.

For now, I’m telling myself that I’m doing a good job of looking after myself, I’m taking small steps, and learning to be patient with my progress. If I say it over and over to myself, one day it will be true.

What’s Happened: This Year in Review

18 Sunday Dec 2016

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Since I finished NaNoWriMo on 30 November this year I’ve done very little writing. I think my writing-brain has gone into hibernation, or possibly it’s just getting to the end of a pretty intense year.

I was looking at the goals I set for myself for 2016, here, and thinking about whether I’d achieved the things I set out to achieve. The goals I set for myself this year were split up into three groups: writing goals, concrete goals, and vague aspirations.

Looking at my writing goals, I’ve only really done one of the four: win NaNoWriMo. I have partially edited two of my previous manuscripts, but neither of them are in any kind of polished state, ready for submission. I’m striking the last one off, pitching a script for a sitcom thing. I don’t want to spend a whole bunch of energy learning a new set of rules and techniques to pitch for television. It seems to me that surely that would be an even more competitive market than fiction. I may choose to do some serious rewrites on the manuscript to sell it to a publishing house, but that seems less daunting.

I do have one of thing I can add which was not on the list, but which was an amazing achievement none the less: writing, producing and performing in my own Melbourne Fringe Festival show Fleur and Alexandra Save the World. This took up almost all of my creative bandwidth for six months, March-September. It was a massive project, and while my show partner had done it before, it still took an enormous about of work and energy to make it happen. In the end we didn’t quite make our money back, but we had over a hundred people come to see our show, and we were listed in The Age entertainment guide. I count it as a success, and who knows, maybe I’ll do another show in the future.

The next category was concrete goals. I’ve only done one of these as well; perform with the band. Hello Volume has been practicing almost every week for all of this year, and we’ve done a couple of live performances. I had hoped to get a few more lined up by this stage of the year, but we have plenty of time for that. Yesterday we went up to a recording studio in Central Victoria to put down some tracks possibly for an EP. It was a surprisingly painless (although exhausting) process. The sound engineer was knowledgeable and created a great relaxed, low-pressure atmosphere. We won’t know for sure how it went until he sends us the mixed and mastered tracks, but listening to the rough cuts I’m super pumped to hear them.

As my second concrete goal I had set myself the goal of planning another big trip. I haven’t done that, for a variety of reasons. A large part of it is because I have so much going on here at home that I sort of haven’t wanted to leave.

The last category is the vague aspirational goals section. The problem with this section is that they are, by nature, sliding and slippery. One, eat well, is so subjective that there is no real way to measure whether I’ve done it. I mean I have eaten a lot of good things, I’ve cooked healthy things for myself and been conscious about what I eat, but only some of the time. Other times, especially when I’m running around like a mad person doing all of the stuff I try to jam into a normal week, I occasionally have chips for dinner. When we were performing the Fringe show I was so nervous before hand I couldn’t eat properly and then afterwards I was so hungry I just scoffed huge handfuls of chocolate and muesli bars.

The same is true of exercising. If I looked at the number of times I actually went to the gym this year, as compared with last year, I’m sure I would have performed significantly worse. There was a period where I was sick for a month, and then there was the Fringe show, and then there was NaNoWriMo, when I prioritised getting my words done over going to the gym. I have tried to maintain a commitment to moving my body and being active, so I reckon I can count that one as a win.

The goal of ‘get a job’ can be ticked off, however I don’t know if I’m entirely happy with it. The job I have is working in an area of business where I haven’t had much experience. Granted, it’s mostly just a case of applying common sense, and having a consistent approach, but I still feel quite unstable in the role. Not to mention the contract I’m on is still a casual one, and I’ve had a new manager start about six weeks ago. Work is an area of my life I’ve found stressful this year. The creative projects I’ve worked on have been stressful in a sort of positive way, but my day-jobs this year have been full of uncertainty and difficult personalities. It’s not my favourite.

In terms of my social life, I’ve had some amazing ups and some lows too. I’ve started a relationship with someone I’m incredibly impressed by, who cares for me in a beautiful way I haven’t experienced before (and am therefore just a little bit freaked out by). It’s glorious and terrifying, and I hope that person knows how much they mean to me.

On the other hand, I had two very dear friends move away, and one more who is going at the start of next year. I’ve struggled in my adult life to create caring, reciprocal relationships (both romantic and platonic). I’ve ended up in situations where I play a counselling or parenting role, and these relationships are very one-sided. I’ve been consciously trying to seek out and nurture fulfilling, reciprocal and supportive friendships for a couple of years, and I’ve found it incredibly difficult. I guess it just means I have to keep trying.

I feel like I’m a person who is able to adapt to a lot of new situations. I like to take on new challenges and learn new things. In looking back at this year I feel like I’ve done a lot of really amazing things, I’ve done them pretty bloody well, and if I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed and tired right now then maybe I should just go with that feeling and give myself permission to take a break. I have a tendency to set unrealistically high expectations and then be so stubborn that I try to achieve them anyway. Mostly it means I get a great deal of work done, but sometimes it means I beat myself up because I can’t do everything.

I’m thinking of what goals I want for next to set for next year. I think I’ll aim for stability in at least one aspect of life. I’ve had a lot of balls in the air this year and I think it would be easier in 2017 if at least one moving part was not moving quite so much. Maybe my day-job will actually be what I want it to be: a financial support for my other endeavours, and not such a drainer of my mental resources.

Once I figure out what I want to put on the list, I’ll do a post on my 2017 goals in early January.

Let’s get selfish

22 Thursday Oct 2015

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I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the link between dating and my level of anxiety. There seems to be a very strong correlation between my decision to meet, or try to meet, someone with the goal of being in a romantic relationship with them and my level of self loathing.

I spend a lot of time thinking about whether I’m acceptable. I think about how long it’s been since I had a serious relationship. I think about all the things I dislike about myself, and about my body. I think about all the things I would be willing to change if they conflicted with having a boyfriend. I drive myself crazy with it and I don’t know how to turn it off.

Except to say I’m not dating anymore. I don’t seem to be able to find a way to date, be on the market, meet new people who I think about in a romantic way, none of it, without my head being filled with an endless parade of negative thoughts, all centered around the various ways in which I am unworthy of romance.

This is not helpful. I also find I spend a lot of time sitting on online dating websites, sending out feelers; trying to make connections with people. If only I could manage to use that time productively, to work on the rewrites for my last novel or to practise the bass! I’m sure I would be much happier to just potter around doing my own thing. Although admittedly it may just mean more time on Youtube.

It feels very antisocial to say those sorts of things out aloud. Like I must have turned into a man-hating feminazi to give up on dating. Or maybe I’ve finally gotten so far up my own arse that no one will ever be good enough so I’m choosing to be celibate instead.

It seems really radical to have decided not to pursue coupledom in our society which seems to be so obsessed with it. And maybe I’ll be accused, as I have been before, of being disengaged from the world, but maybe I’ll be able to just be a human being and stop measuring myself by whether people want to sleep with me.

Initially I wrote this when I was feeling bitter and depressed about the concept, like I was punishing myself by saying “you’ll never have that so just give up.” But now, after a couple of days, I’m feeling kind of good about it. It feels like taking back my control, like sticking it to The Man and The Patriarchy. It’s probably extremely selfish but screw it, I’m giving myself permission to be selfish and to stop torturing myself.

Crush

28 Saturday Mar 2015

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I can raise sixty kilos above me
Five times, but cannot raze your weight
From my chest.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx Heavy, turgid – an
Imaginary version of you
I cling to like a child desperate
To be loved.

xxx

xxxxxxxxxxx No more tears
Will I cry for you. You’re destroying
This, whatever it might have been
By being an arsehole.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Enough.
I have nothing more to say to
You. Except
xxxxxxxxxx Grow up.

Watching Movies: Beautiful Vampires

29 Sunday Jun 2014

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I don’t think I got Jim Jarmusch until today. I saw ‘Only Lovers Left Alive’ at the magnificent Astor Theatre earlier today and it was glorious. The central characters of the film, Adam (Tom Hiddleston) and Eve (Tilda Swinton) are vampires. They are impossibly old, they are reclusive – in the world but not of it, they are artistic, and they are so, so in love. If I had only two words for this film, they would be languid, and restrained.

Only Lovers Left Alive screenshot

Still: Only Lovers Left Alive

The film was beautifully realised in a number of ways, I will try to go each of them. Firstly, cinematographically, this film had some lovely themes. Adam, who lives in Detroit, is black – his clothes are black, his hair is black, his house is very dark, and all of the scenes in Detroit are dark. Eve on the other hand, who lives in Tangier, is white – her clothes are pale, her hair is pale, her house is pale, even the scenes in Tangier, which are at night, are much paler in comparison.

The characterisation is lovely too, Adam is a reclusive, musician who is pretty grumpy, fascinated by the world of science and weary of the zombies (humans). Eve is light, but thoughtful, she reads every language, she is fascinated by the world of humans and has a zest for existence. They are the quintessential yin and yang, and they were small charms of the other’s colours as a token of their difference and their love.

Thirdly, the acting by Swinton and Hiddleston is delightful, much of which is without dialogue. The whole film is quite minimalist in some ways, but the affection between the two leads is very real. I saw an interview with the two of them, along with Jarmusch and John Hurt (who plays Christopher Marlowe) and it was clear that the affection between them was not only on screen. Their ability to portray a love which is literally ageless but still just as potent was truly remarkable – their complete comfort with each others’ presence while still having a burning desire for the other were equally believable. Together, they achieve a level of sexiness that is rarely seen, and is heightened by their never consummating it on screen.

Music also plays a huge part in the effect of this film. I commented to a friend as soon as the credits were finished that I must get hold of the soundtrack immediately. Most of the soundtrack is by Sqürl, Jim Jarmusch’s band. It manages to be moody and atmospheric while also being able to drive the action – lots of wailing guitars and slow beats, giving the film a sort of timeless urgency.

Only Lovers Left Alive theatrical poster

Only Lovers Left Alive theatrical poster

I have to give big ups to Jarmusch for this film. Having seen ‘Dead Man’ and finding it beautiful but confusing, I was ready for this movie to be somewhat inaccessible, but I was pleasantly surprised as I let the film wash over me. The Marlowe as Shakespeare conspiracy theory is interesting, but probably not something I want to go in to here, I suspect it may have created some tension between Jarmusch and Hiddleston, who has very successfully performed Shakespeare (see also this post). I could be wrong, but the interview I mentioned before includes some interesting body language between them when the interviewer asks about the issue. It is a credit to everyone involved that with so much to work with and such talented people on hand the film is so restrained, so understated, and that this is one of the things which makes it so great.

Overall, it gave me some excellent food for thought. A poignant and thoughtful look at love, life, humanity, pleasure, despair and death. I give it 4.5 out of 5 stars.

What if?

28 Saturday Jun 2014

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Today is a free writing day. Write at least four-hundred words, and once you start typing, don’t stop. No self-editing, no trash-talking, and no second guessing: just go. Bonus points if you tackle an idea you’ve been playing with but think is too silly to post about.

 

I identify as a feminist. Usually I’m completely happy with this, but sometimes, I find myself wanting things that are decidedly unfeministy. Like a boyfriend and a baby and a house in the suburbs. I’ll turn 30 later this year. It keeps feeling like this should be a big deal, like I should have sorted my shit out by now, but it is pretty clear to me that I really, really haven’t got anything sorted out.

I’ve just left a perfectly good, if soul-crushing, permanent part time job for nothing. I haven’t really got another job to go into. I plan to study full-time next semester, but without Centrelink/welfare payments I’ll have to get a job of some sort to survive. I have been in a romantic relationship for a total of four weeks out of the last (nearly) three years. I’m generally not doing well in the ‘being a grown-up department’.

The difficulty for me with these conflicting desires is that I know, intellectually, that I’m capable of being happy without a husband, baby, house and white picket fence. I also know, intellectually, that having these things does not guarantee happiness, and that many people would look at my free, arty farty lifestyle with envy, but I still want them. I guess there’s that part of me, having grown up with all of those expectations of normality, that wants to fit in.

I always saw myself as a parent, a mother, and the idea that it might not be a reality for me is kind of hard to fathom. I’m not so invested in the idea for a baby that I would have one alone, I don’t mean any disrespect to single mothers/parents, but it seems like a lot of hard work, and I’m not up for that.

On the other hand women who don’t have kids are supposed to be focussed on their careers. In a lot of ways I am focussed on my career, my aims to be a writer, but that’s not usually what people mean by career. I don’t want to climb the corporate ladder. I don’t want to work really hard so I have lots of cash and no time. I often feel like a massive failure on lots of different societal measures of success, although I seem to be pretty good at academic pursuits which is supposed to be desirable, but usually only on the way to career or babies.

So how do I make peace with myself, with my path, if I won’t achieve ‘success’? Even if I don’t want to. How do I tell the part of my brain that wants money, husbands, babies and houses to be quiet so the other part, the part my heart knows is right for me, can guide me? And what if my chosen path is never ‘successful’? I might get a few things published here and there, but I might never be a full time writer. Maybe I’ll be working in admin a few days a week and churning out writing that no one will pay for and hardly anyone will read when I’m 75. I really want to be ok with this. I will always have ambition, and that’s great, but I want to be able to be happy without those things.

What if I’m a bad feminist because I want those things? What if I can’t achieve the things I want? What if the things I want aren’t socially acceptable? What if I’m a failure as a human being? What if I want things that won’t make me happy?What if… What if…

But what if I just stop worrying and start living? How about I try that and see how I go from there.

Mum’s One-Pot Chicken Soup

16 Monday Jun 2014

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Day Ten’s prompt is to write about a favourite childhood meal that meant celebration or comfort. I’ve been thinking about this for a couple of days and the one that sticks out for me is the chicken soup my mother made me when I had all my wisdom teeth out. Because I’d had all four wisdom teeth out under anaesthetic I couldn’t really chew for a week or so, so my mum blended this soup, which didn’t really work so well, but it was very welcome nonetheless.

I have a lot of love for Asian influenced brothy soups; Vietnamese Pho, Thai Tom Yum, really anything with broth and chilli. I think it comes from growing up in Box Hill, an area with a heavily Asian population, lots of Asian grocery shops that sold lots of excellent vegetables like bok choy, pak choy, and wombok, and tasty sauces with difficult to read labels. Plus, when made the way my mum used to, this chicken soup was a super easy one pot wonder and ready in about half an hour.

As a grown up, I often use this soup as a go to, particularly when I’m feeling a bit run down, or want comfort in winter. My old housemates, Simon and Kat, also got in on the chicken soup action, so here’s my recipe (or at least, it’s sort of a loose guide to the way I make it).

Ingredients:

  • Chicken pieces
  • Rice/ Rice noodles
  • Onion (optional)
  • Carrot
  • Greens – seasonal stuff, zucchini, broccoli, wombok, pak/bok choy, beans, peas, whatever you like as long as it’s plentiful and green.
  • Stock/Water
  • Chilli sauce
  • Soy sauce
  • Hoisin sauce

Method:

Fill a big pot about half way with water or stock. I usually use a stock cube, but if you have home-made stock that’s even better, or that broth they use to make pho.

Put the pot on the stove to heat while you get started on the other stuff.

Next, put the chicken pieces Into the pot. I don’t usually wait for it to boil, but you can if you like. Depending on the size of your chicken pieces you’ll need to simmer that for a while, maybe 10 minutes for small bits of breast or thigh, maybe 20 minutes for anything with a bone still in it.

While that’s simmering, chop the carrot, onion and greens.

After the 10 or 20 minutes has gone by, add your rice*, I’d say about 1/3 cup per serve or something. I don’t really know, I just kind of chuck in a mug full or so for a bit pot. Simmer the rice for 3-4 minutes.

Add your carrot and onion, simmer for another 3-4 minutes.

Finally add your greens and simmer for 3-4 minutes**.

By now your rice should be cooked, as well as your vegies and everything else.

To serve, put the soup into bowls and add chilli, soy and hoisin to taste. You can also add lemon juice and bean sprouts for more of a pho flavour.

Depending on your needs, you can make big batches of this which you can save for later, or single serving versions. Note: if you save this soup for later, the rice will continue to swell and you’ll end up with more of a stew type thing. You can add extra water/stock if you like, or just eat it as is it’s still super tasty.

*If you’re using brown rice, put it in 10 minutes earlier.

**If you’re using rice noodles, add them with the greens at the end.

 

This is probably not a great recipe if you’re looking for strict instructions, but I’m a fairly loose sort of cook. I’m having this for dinner tonight, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

Some thoughts about failure and inspiration

14 Saturday Jun 2014

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So, I got a little behind with my Writing101 challenge because I had to do an assignment at the last minute and have it done by midnight last night. This was difficult, because apart from having had several weeks in which to do the aforementioned assignment, I basically procrastinated it until there were just over three hours in which to write, reference, proof read and submit the thing. It was, I will freely admit, a very poor effort. I wouldn’t be surprised if it brings down the grade for that subject significantly.

Instead of doing the day nine prompt, about taking perspectives, I’m going to write about misdirected energy. I procrastinated that assignment because I was afraid. I didn’t really know how to approach it, I didn’t feel confident that I could answer the question. I had been to the library (as in actually physically attended it, and borrowed real books) and got out a selection of relevant texts. I had had a cursory look through them, I’d done a bit of online researching, but all of that didn’t really help when it came to writing the essay. I’m not even sure I understood the question correctly. But for some reason the idea of putting it off was much, much more attractive than starting to write or asking for help, or choosing a different topic. I redirected my energy and my focus onto all sorts of other things, mainly watching and rewatching TV series on my computer.

I felt like I didn’t have control and that scared me, so I did everything I could to avoid thinking about it instead of doing something useful. Any that has prompted some pretty strong feelings of disappointment with myself.

Consequently, I spent quite a lot of time over the last few days thinking about anger, and in particular my anger. I don’t deal with anger well. I seem to be incapable of expressing it usefully, and so instead I internalise it, or I redirect it at something else. Especially when it’s a friend who says something that really gets under my skin, instead of saying, ‘hey that’s not very fair’ or ‘I don’t agree because…’ seethe internally and say nothing. It becomes very black and white, I start thinking I can’t be friends with that person anymore and I feel sad, like I’ve failed.

I don’t want to be the sort of person who is constantly filled with a big ball of fury (and guilt), but that’s what I feel like sometimes. There is a quote that’s made the rounds on the internet a bit that has been resonating with me.

“Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.”

From what I can find it’s attributed to Carrie Fisher. I know that holding onto my anger is hurting me and that people are not black and white, they’re a beautiful spectrum of everything in between. I know that I need to either my resentment go, or find a way of constructively letting it out. Sometimes the object of my anger is not an object with which I can safely or usefully engage, and so I have to learn to let that go. Other times, I can engage, and don’t because of a fear of conflict, or more likely, an inability to ask for what I need. Times like this make me wonder what the point is of trying to change, they make me feel like all the therapy I’ve been doing is not helpful, it just keeps bringing up different shit that I have to deal with; a constant treadmill of self doubt and pain.

I guess I could also mention that since I quit my job, a stable and secure, but ultimately unfulfilling and frustrating job. I’ve been feeling like I’ve walked straight off the cliff and into the abyss. I’ve leapt out without any real safety net (again) and I’m terrified. I know it’s the right thing to do, no one grows without challenge, but god damn it’s hard to remember that when you’re worrying about where your rent money is coming from.

Maybe I’m just having a particularly challenging week and I should just give myself a break. I’m pretty good at catastrophising and making stuff into more than it really needs to be. If I try to think about the changes I’m about to make as correcting myself back onto the path I want to be on, rather than as having to start again that might be helpful. If I try to remember all work I’ve done over the last few years to get me to where I am today, that will help. If I try to focus on all the amazing opportunities in front of me, like all the writing and performance I’ve been doing, and about the great people I’ve met through it, about the encouraging and kind feedback I’ve had that helps.

So to conclude, having gone almost all the way around, I will leave you, and myself with two things to think about. One is from Yoda:

“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”

I am going to try to be fearless, or at least, more fearless, because I’ll never be a famous writer if I’m afraid. The second one is from a speech Jim Carey gave to a university management class, it’s just an excerpt, but it’s powerful:

“You can fail at what you don’t want, so you might as well take a chance at doing what you love.”

A Human Character

10 Tuesday Jun 2014

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Today, you’ll write about a person you’ve met in 2014. In your twist, develop and shape your portrait further in a character study.

 

The thing about meeting new people is that they either make no impression at all or they have a lasting impact on how you see yourself, live your life or how you feel. It seems to me that there is almost no in between.

I think a lot about the idea of coupling off and whether or not it’s something that I do, or should, aspire to. I try to think of myself as being a perfectly capable, whole, human being without needing a boyfriend to feel complete, but it’s hard to maintain that feeling when so much of our lives is spend engaging in the happily ever after fantasy. And that’s not even going into the part where a woman’s most valuable, fundamental role is as a mum.

In my attempts to find happiness as an individual, I go on a lot of dates. That sounds like it’s a completely contradictory statement, and perhaps it is, but I guess I’m looking for someone to share my life with, rather than someone who completes me, and I think that works. Most of the time the dating thing doesn’t go very well. I meet a lot of people who don’t make an impression.

Occasionally there are exceptions. Around Easter I actually managed to meet a man who I was interested to have a relationship with. I would consider it an important event in my life because I hadn’t been in a relationship for more than two years before that, since before I started this blog. It didn’t last, unfortunately, but it did give me confidence that there are people in the world who find me attractive and interesting. It’s something that I need reminding of every now and then.

So how would I describe him? I suppose the first word that comes to mind is small. I don’t mean short, he would be about the same height I am, about 175cm, but he was quite slight in build. He’s really into cycling so if you think about the cyclist physique that should give you a good starting point – small arms, thin chest, and wiry but muscular legs.

He had very fair skin, being of a ginger sort of complexion, and a completely bald head. Some men are blessed with thick, luscious hair, and others suffer from the severely receding hairline. For this particular man, his hair had decided to leave the top half of his head in his is early twenties, and he dealt with it by shaving the rest of his hair off.

In contrast to his smooth scalp, he sported a neatly trimmed gingery/blonde beard. He once said that it was to cover up a number of facial scars, but I didn’t feel it was pertinent to probe too deeply what those scars were. In any event, that were not immediately obvious underneath the hair, so I assumed they were fairly minor.

In addition to the beard, he accessorised his face with a set of thin-rimmed metal glasses. Rather more oval than the circular sort worn by John Lennon, the resemblance was still there (had I been younger, perhaps I would have been reminded of Harry Potter, but they’ll always be Lennon’s glasses to me).

Putting all of these aspects together, small, bald, beard, glasses, one could easily relegate him to the category ‘nerd’. I could also mention his interest in Reddit and job in I.T., neither of which really help with the impression.

But there’s more to his guy than a flippant pigeon-holing would allow. There are the little wrinkles around his eyes which speak of a capacity for laughter, delicate tender fingers which show kindness and dexterity, and the faded, flared jeans that appeared to be a permanent fixture of his wardrobe. Then there’s his ability to engage in intelligent feminist discourse, his keen and enquiring mind, his obvious and conspicuous care for people in his life who are having a rough time, like his sister and his best friend.

Since we broke up, I’ve tried to dissect what went wrong with the relationship, on paper it seemed like we were well suited, and initially it went strongly. But maybe it’s not useful to try to dissect matters of the heart. It was very pleasant while it lasted, and he is certainly an excellent human being. I enjoyed sharing those weeks with him, and I feel like I’ve learned a lot from it. I wish him all the best with finding someone to spend his life with, as I keep walking my own path and one day hope to have someone to walk with me.