I always thought when people got to my age they would have all their shit worked out. Most people look like they have, but when you hit the dating scene in your late 40’s, early 50’s you realise it’s all just pretence.We doubt ourselves, our attractiveness to others, whether anyone will want to be friends with us, just like we did when we were teenagers.

The last year of dating however has gave me more confidence in myself than I have ever had before. Even through all the horror stories and the bad dates, the rejections and the slut shaming, I have come to realise that I am worthy of being loved. I am beautiful, I am sexy, I am intelligent and funny. I am witty and I am passionate. I am lovable. I’m fucking strong.

Even though in some ways it’s been a hard year filled with tears and blood tests, it’s also been a year filled with compliments, with passion, with yearning and wanting. It’s been a year when I have discovered who I am through the eyes of others. I wish I had seen that me when I was 16. Could have felt that strength when I was 20. Could have waited for someone who saw me, and loved me for me, rather than marrying the first man who paid me any attention. I’m glad I didn’t make do with ok.

This is my year.

One Day Sober

“You hang around with people who are sure to make you cry
I can make you happy if only for a while
Little baby oh, oh little baby
I can give you all the lovin’ that your heart desires
Give you all the love that your heart desires oh yeah
(I’m gonna make you feel so sexy) if only for a while little baby
Oh little baby I can give you all the loving that your heart desires
If you ain’t got time for me I’ll find another fantasy
” George Michael – Fantasy ’98

I met Mr AA for a reason.

I admit I am powerless over my need to be with a man. For the reassurance it brings me, for the feeling of affirmation it gives me.

I have crumpled up my last packet of man. Deleted and blocked all phone numbers and call history so I can’t be tempted. I have even deleted my Facebook account so I can stop obsessively checking their Facebook accounts and hurting when I see them with others. WhatsApp- gone. Emails blocked. All previous chats or emails deleted so I can stop reliving better times.

I looked at the rest of the 12 steps, and too many mentions of God for me.

Instead I found a website which gave me more guidance.

  1. Cut off contact – check
  2. Let go of the fantasy : “Most people don’t want back the relationship they actually had. What they mourn for if the relationship they thought they could have had if things had just been different. But in truth that relationship doesn’t exist”
  3. Make peace with the past
  4. Know its OK to still love them
  5. Love yourself more.

We can still love the person we are not in a relationship with, loving them doesn’t mean that we should be together. Love by itself isn’t enough to make a relationship work.

Ms Slut

You say horrible things
I laugh because I love you
And when you touch my skin, I think
This isn’t boring” Montaigne -Because I Love You

I don’t know whether this (the title) is self projection, or whether I’m really hearing this from men.

I definitely did from Mr G. Got the email to prove it. Even now if I get upset, like today he accuses me of finding relief in the sex of another man.

Maybe he’s right, I mean I’ve done it before.

Does having done something before, condemn you to being that person forever? Well it’s certainly seeming that way.

Mr G has been dating up a storm. One of his dates contacted me on Facebook messenger. (I attempted today to delete my Facebook account but I can’t remember my bloody password). She was very distraught for reasons that are not mine to share. However what she did say was he told her his last partner (me) cheated on him numerous times. Wow, just wow. For those late to the story I didn’t, not even once.

Mr AA and i had reconciled after his public dumping, as he said he was consumed by me. I have to say he is a very nice distraction. Then, today, I get some convoluted, mind boggling text message from Mr AA. Pretty much boiled down to he can’t trust me as I am obviously a slut. Ok. I’m paraphrasing here, he didn’t call me a slut but my past behaviour is concerning.

I looked up the definition of slut for a laugh.

” A woman who has many casual partners”. I guess that’s true.

I like this one better “a slut is a person of any gender who has the courage to lead life according to the radical proposition that sex is nice and pleasure is good for you“.

But still it wounds me. Do you think any man will trust me again? Will I spend every relationship from now on describing my calendar in full detail. ” Tonight I’m going to lunch with a friend, oh it’s a friend who is a girl, here see, the text, her picture, do you want me to take a picture of us at the restaurant to prove we are there? Sure thing darling”. Fuck that. Fuck you all.

Addendum: I backed out of a show with Mr G 9 hours before the start as Mr AA was having some trust issues and even though this was a long term date, made when we were still together, he had a point. How was this any different to me meeting Pirate for dinner. Of course this pissed off Mr G who subsequently blocked me.

I had some free tickets to another show that night, but after the message from Mr AA I realised he was no longer an option for a date. I asked a few female friends. In the end I ended up inviting Pirate, purely as a friend. Ironic eh?

Anyway it was an hour show, starting at 7pm, ironically about being single and using dating apps. It wasn’t funny, especially when Pirate didn’t show. He arrived 45 minutes late. By then I had left. I guess the universe was giving me pay back for standing up Mr G.

Ms Publicly Dumped

When the evening falls
And I’m left there with my thoughts
And the image of you being with someone else
Well, that’s eating me up inside
But we run our course, we pretend that we’re okay
Now if we jump together at least we can swim
Far away from the wreck we made
” Marshmello- Happier

Had a crazy fucking week.

My problem is, I don’t know what the fuck I want. Well, no, I do but men keep pathologicalising what I want and end up making me feel somehow perverted so influenced by their need I change my mind.

Like the wind, one says, flip flop says another. I try to be me, but when I’m with them I want to also make them happy, please them, so I compromise and end up looking flakey.

So last you heard I let Mr AA know I didn’t want a relationship, cause even though his profile said he wasn’t looking for anything other than in his words a “root” somehow on spending time with me he got all intense and I decided to back off as I knew I would end up hurting him.

This of course is coupled with sex with Mr Tadpole on Monday, stupidly fucking Mr G in his car on Tuesday, the date with Mr AA where I ended up dumping him on Wednesday and unwanted sex with Pirate on Thursday. Yeah I know, out of control.

Anyway Mr AA and I kept texting after saying it wasn’t working for me and we decided to try to be friends. However he’d never had a female friend who he didn’t want to “root” so this was probably in vain. He asked me to come watch fireworks with him on Saturday night and we lay around discussing us and the possibility of just being “friends with benefits”.

We resolved to catch up for a movie on the Wednesday as friends. However he called me on Tuesday to chat and during the conversation I disclosed my crazy sex week. He appreciated my honesty and said in fact it made him want me more. I agreed to cancel the date I had been planning for that night and invited him over instead.

We spent the night together getting to know each other more and I talked through more of what I didn’t want at this point in time, as certainly any relationship would be a reaction to my recent break up with Mr G. He seemed to accept this and wanted to spend the next day (today) with me. We went to a movie then picniced on the river, and had a swim. It was beautiful and relaxing.

Unfortunately simultaneously I was in a bizarre text triangle with Pirate and the woman who was part of the reason we weren’t together. He called her Wonder woman. For reasons only Pirate knows he gave her my number. This highly intrigued me and I admit I was distracted by the messages. Though I did not hide what I was doing. It was wrong and I should have resisted. However, that coupled with my revelations about my previous weeks activities was enough for him to issue the public dumping via a comment on my previous post.

He could have emailed, texted or called. I believe he wanted to either publicly shame me, or talk directly to the other “suitors”. Whatever his reasons it hurt and has led to this post.

Bless YOU Mr AA


“Our childhood is memory
Still ascended high in dreams
And I’m suspending what I held for
Preconceptions of my being
I only say this to affirm
Our time is short
But we’ve will to carry on
Transcend with our scars and contusions
” Say Yes To Life, Gang of Youths

Since my last heartfelt post I’ve been drowning my sorrows, or at least distracting my yearnings in the strong sinewy arms of Mr AA. I told him straight up he was a distraction, though a very nice firm distraction!

I had bought tickets to what can only be described as an art installation which the lucky few could spend the night in. It consisted of some cobbled together bits of wood and tin to form The South Mole Resort. Located on the salubrious Fremantle South mole populated usually with rats and fishermen, it had a view to die for of the entrance to the harbour and the maritime museum. The tickets had been purchased with the intent of using them with Mr G and I was determined to still go, but wanting someone to come with me. I asked friends, but most, strangely were washing their hair that night. Mr AA stepped up to the plate.

Since the last post we had shared some passionate fumblings in the back of his van but had decided we would not consumate anything until we had both been tested for any STI. A very noble undertaking. And also a test for two quite sexual beings.

Unfortunately the experience of sleeping together with the sound of waves slapping the rocks was too much to resist. As I write this I still haven’t received my STI results, though the doctor said if there were any issues I would hear by end of the week, so I’m sure I’m fine…

We were woken early by the fact that there were no curtains and the sound of birds, not rats on the tin roof of our “shacklet “. Our host made us breakfast jaffles and we parted company not to see each other again until his fathering duties were over 4 days hence.

With days to imagine our reunion I was champing at the bit to see him again. However he had been sick with a cold, so we settled for meeting at his place, a boat docked on the river. I suffer quite badly from motion sickness so I necked a sea sickness pill before arriving so I was a little dopey. I don’t know whether it was this, his cold, or my feverish speculation but the long anticipated meeting was an anti climax. I ended up staying the night and suffered motion sickness the whole next day.

I don’t know what I wanted or expected but when I returned home I sent a text, gutless I know but easier than a phone call and better than ghosting, no? I said I didn’t think we were compatible but in truth I didn’t want to start anything that could lead to feelings getting hurt. I bailed before those initial feelings could blossom into something more difficult to extricate myself from.

Still not sure if I did the right thing or not. But I do know I don’t want to sleep over on a boat again.


“And I blinded you ’cause I loved your eyes
And I took your voice ’cause I love to lie
And I weighed you down, so I learned to fly
Last night I made you cry ” GRAACE – Last Night

I’m back to my usual pattern of running away from conflict and re-injuring myself in the process. The last twelve months have seen the end to my marriage, the loss of my home, my daughter (who chose to live with her dad), my Nana, my job, my self-respect. I’ve been documenting my journey not just to entertain you but to sort out my feelings and recognise my patterns.

I meet Mr AA yesterday, I don’t yet have his permission to include him in the blog so I won’t go into too many details but he spoke to me about his addiction issues and his continuing journey with Alcoholics Anonymous. Now usually my typical demeanor in a first date is light, happy and confident, a mask of course, but it allows me to navigate the difficult first encounter and leave the impression I have my shit together. Well I was crying within about 15 minutes of meeting him. I pulled it together and got the mask firmly in place and impressed him enough with my witty repartee, I elicited a second date last night.

He was extremely open and honest with his past, sharing things with me that made him very vulnerable. I also opened up and found myself crying even more than the first date. Jesus get a grip woman! However, what I did take, learn, embrace from that date, something that I always knew but distracted the thought with more inappropriate men, was that what I am doing is destructive. Not only to me but to those around me, especially the men I use to distract me, I want them to fall in love with me, because ultimately I don’t love myself.

I have this enormous gaping wound inside myself. A chasm of self-loathing that I try to soothe with male attention. It is a temporary fix and in fact leaves the wound bigger and festering when ultimately the attention does not assuage the shame but makes it worse.

I came home and deleted my dating profiles and am putting my head down to find a job to distract me instead.

Mr Tour guide

“I will not spend the years depleted of my willingness to try
It won’t hurt this way forever, it ain’t worth the overtime
I’m not looking for redemption nor some shallow kind of bliss
Lay me down and kiss me deeply, show me everything I missed” Gang of Youths – The Heart Is a Muscle

There is some one between Mr Dimples and Mr Tour Guide, who I will call Mr Tadpole. He doesn’t want me to write about him even though I am dying to, he is super interesting and very, very different than my usual “type”. I don’t think I have a type but friends and children insist I do. We have had 3 dates so far, if you could call them dates, the last one being a rescue of 100s of tadpoles hence the name , but I’ve probably said too much anyway and should pretend he doesnt exist. Nothing to see here.

Anyway Mr Tour guide and I spoke last time I was on the “sites”, on and off for months. There was never really interest for me, his photos were as uninspiring as the conversation. But he was a nice guy and always had a cheery hello to greet me with when ever I was online.

The easy thing about our online relationship was that he spent 6 months in Darwin doing tour guiding and 6 months based in Perth but doing South West tours. So generally he was usually somewhere I wasn’t so there was no requests to meet.

This time however my return to the scene coincided with him being in Perth, and I felt obliged as anyone would to a long term pen pal to meet in person. I had had a meeting with a new business I was considering buying in the area , and also had a subsequent meeting an hour later which gave me the perfect escape.

He arrived looking just like his photos, he purchased me a drink even though I tried to pay, I always pay or at least try so as I feel no obligation if things don’t work out. I shook his hand which is a weird thing for me to do on dates, either I do nothing, or I do the awkward kiss on the cheek sort of thing. So shaking his hand was very business like to start with. I think even he was taken aback.

He was a very nice guy, boring, bland, and totally not my type, which I could have t old you before I arrived. I guess I just felt obliged to finally meet him. Like I owed him that much. I really need to stop doing that. Making people feel ok. When in fact what I am doing is giving them false hope and possibly making it worse for them and painful for me at the same time.

I checked the time constantly as I was aware I needed to be elsewhere and the conversation stumbled to a close. I stood up to go, he mentioned something about doing it right this time and embraced me and kissed my cheek at that same time I tried to manoeuvre out of my chair. Very awkward. We haven’t chatted once since then and every time I see him online I shut the app down quickly. I’m crap at this.

In other news today I’ve been described by Mr G as childish, narcissistic, lying, rude, dismissive, impetuous, sarcastic and destructively dumb. However he continues to read my posts so I must also be entertaining!