Still.

I am happy. Things could be better, but they could be worse. I am 38, single and childless. The less I compare myself to other women my age, the happier I am. I constantly hear girls complaining about dickhead men. I am not one of them. The men I like are stable enough for me to be attracted to. There is no way I would go back to being in my 20's. Naive, vulnerable and easily hurt. I have learnt a lot in my 30's. I am thicker skinned now. I will continue to work on myself.

The Risky Text

We’ve all done it. We’ve all sent the semi naked selfie to someone we fancy the pants off. We shouldn’t. We regret it. But once that alcohol hits, there’s no backing out. The next morning your head hurts, you’re hanging, you regret it immediately. It’s gotten to the point now where I congratulate myself for not destroying my life the next morning, if I haven’t touched my phone whilst pissed. I’ve an amazing body. I like the alcohol. But is it sexual harassment to send them unsolicited? What if they said they weren’t interested or just flat out ignore it? The shame! The regret! How do you look them in the eye afterwards? Is it weird to send a semi naked picture to someone without their permission? Is it rude to just assume that they want this picture? Do men get embarrassed by this whole topic? Be honest fellas, if a girl sends you a picture you never asked for, what’s your reaction? Us girls have one drink and think it’s a brilliant idea to message the guy they have their eye on. Brilliant idea. They’re gonna love us for it. Booty call. Why has nobody ever thought of this before? I’m gonna message him at 1am, something like “hey baby you ok?” despite never speaking like that to him before in my life, and he’s going to get me to his. We will have sex all night. And again in the morning. No. What happens is “Delivered” shortly followed by “Read”. “Active 20 mins ago.” “Blocked”. Then one one day 6 months later they appear in your DM’s. “Hey”. And the whole debacle starts again. What on earth? I mean how do we get over the embarrassment and just be grown ups about it? So do we send the risky text? “Why aren’t I in your bed?”. That’s my personal favourite. That, or “Will you be my boyfriend for the evening?”. I’m gettin Tescs Proseccs tonight and a bottle of Malbec. Let’s see how long Elizabeth waits to ultimately destroy her life.

Sex

I need some romance. Some love. I’m in a completely different place to what I was last year. I’m getting my sex drive back. I’m bored of doing “it” myself. A vibrator cannot cuddle you, tell you you’re beautiful and tilt your head and kiss you softly but deeply. It can’t look into your eyes and make love to you. You can’t climb on top of it and make it moan. I love hearing a man moan for me. I love a noisy man. It’s sensual. It means they’re loving your body. The feeling of making love to a man who really appreciates your figure. Every curve, every imperfection, every freckle. The thing is, I’m socially awkward. I can’t maintain normal friendships or relationship. I don’t know how to function around men. I don’t like it when they come on strong. I like to be the one in control. I like their vulnerability and the shyness. So what do I do? I’m anti social. I am only confident at talking to men when I’ve had a bottle of wine. Then I’m filth. I don’t mean any harm. But I have a habit of fucking up every relationship I have. Unless you’ve known me for a very long time, you will be scared by me. It’s happened before and it will happen again. I’m inappropriate all the time. I don’t mean it. I just over think. Constantly. I’m romantic but a bitch at the same time. It’s complicated. I’m complicated. I just need reassurance constantly. So if I need a cuddle, a kiss, a bit of skin on skin, then I’m resigned to the fact it will be my downfall and inevitably the reason I’m my own worst enemy. I listen to MNEK-Paradise or Flashing Lights by Kanye West. Both make me feel sensual and sexy. It’s just a shame that I only have myself to have that feeling with. Probably for the best because most of the time I don’t feel like I’m worthy of love.

The Pressure On Ourselves

 Sometimes it’s easy to post things on social media platforms such as birthday party pictures, holidays, weight loss achievements etc. I do it myself constantly. When I lived in London I posted pictures of everything I did. Why? To prove something. To prove I got where I was through hard work and determination. Not to mention giving something back to the people who tried (and failed) to make me miserable. I went to parties where I would get dressed up, take enough snaps to show everyone I was enjoying myself only to dart off two hours later to get into my pyjamas with my laptop and box sets for company. I was in a city where there was 9 million people with busy lives, all working round the clock just to pay rent on their overpriced homes and to make sure their cocktail on the roof of a City bar was instagrammed. But I am older now. Instead of having the family I thought I’d have, or saving to move back to London AGAIN, I’m now putting money away to go to New York. I plan on going to Paris in September (work permitting) and to get more tattoos. I am doing all this for me. I’ve nothing to prove to people anymore. I’m living for myself. 

Why do we give ourselves such a hard time? We do enough and don’t give ourselves enough credit. Even at Christmas when I see people uploading pics, it’s always of the gifts they have got or perhaps given. Is it to compete with others? Why in our society do we feel the need to conform with other people’s expectations? Just because you couldn’t afford the iPad or the PS5, you feel like you’ve let your kids down. Things can be tough. We can be so materialistic at times. Why can’t we just learn to enjoy the moment. What are you doing right now? What are you stressing about? Take half an hour. Listen to your body. Your mind. You’re not doing too bad. You’re doing great. Let yourself acknowledge that. Not others.

When Does a Guilty Pleasure Become a Fixation

I have Asperger’s and I’m constantly hyper focused on certain things. Whether it be a TV show or a person, a make up brand or a style of trainers. I can’t just buy one t shirt. I have to have four the same. I have three pairs of Stan Smiths “just in case”. I have a habit of buying clothes online from Boohoo or PLT, Shein or Miss Pap then sending them back. Is it the adverts that are so appealing? I know they’re gonna look like shit on me because I’m not the size I was. I’m not a bronzed, tall blonde goddess. I’m a short ginger pale freak. I look more like Karen Matthews than I do Nicola Roberts. I have 5 parcels here that I need to take back to Evri and Royal Mail. So why do I buy so much? Hoard so much? 

Apparently it’s because I’m single and don’t have kids. I’m “filling a void”. I’m empty and the only thing that can nourish me is Boohoo. Wow. 38 and constantly ordering shit online, only to send it back. But do I want kids? Nah. I don’t want anything apparently unless it’s made from 100% polyester. And returnable. 

So what do I do instead? I work, I go to the gym. I drink too much gin. 

Maybe I need a boyfriend. I’ll let you know how THAT goes.

AJLT & Glamorous

 Anticipation 

And Just Like That

We’ve all been waiting for the second series of ‘AJLT’ with the knowing of Aidan making an appearance and the eagerly awaited return of Samantha. We knew Miranda wouldn’t last 5 minutes on the West Coast, and that this relationship she has with Che could all be a predictable flash in the pan. Bear in mind that she gave up her life with Steve and Brady for this relationship. She stands in Che’s bedroom with a complicated strap on which to me, a naïve pans woman as a bit forced. Do all lesbians wear these things? Or is it a Hollywood stereotype which needs leaving in the past? Carrie is aging, and her podcast is ended because she refuses to use the word “Vag” so nonchalantly. The studios close and her relationship with the good looking Franklyn ends because she can’t commit to anything other than a Thursday fling. Let’s be honest, the other characters are forced into the show because originally the series SATC was primarily for white women. Any other women who were of colour, were portrayed as either poor, aggressive or both. The need for BAME characters seems like the producers have flung the most stereotypical storylines they could think of just to fill some sort of quota.

The show looks Fabulous. The mise en scene is stunning. These wealthy women with enviable lives, makes me pine for East London where I felt more cosmopolitan. I myself have been influenced by the ideas the show gives off. So much so I wrote an article for my interview process with a new job I’ve just been offered in the style of Carrie Bradshaw. My new workplace is stunning. Surrounded by some of Liverpool’s beautiful architecture and port buildings. I forget how living in a major port can be so humbling in contrast to the dirty, busy Capital of England. I’m not saying that working for a Legal Firm in Liverpool is comparable to the ladies in SATC, but I do feel more zen and relaxed. Dare I say it a bit more grown up. 

I’m looking forward to seeing what else AJLT has in store for the viewer. However watching it is making me feel my age. There’s something missing. Not just Big. Us hardcore fans of the whole SATC franchise NEED Samantha Jones. However is her character now too old for such a woke new audience?

Glamorous 

Kim Cattrall's new Netflix show which premiered on the same day as AJLT, which I’m guessing was not a coincidence. The show opens with Marco, the show’s protagonist telling us how he’s an “influencer” and make up obsessed. The show is filled with cliches, gen z mania and storylines that echo The Devil Wears Prada and Coyote Ugly. We know exactly what to expect and to be quite honest, after the first episode, the predictable plots are becoming tiring. It’s good to see Queen Kim back on our screens though.