Sunday 13 July 2014

Conversations With George

 Some like to think that I sit by my window in my Essex suburban home waiting for prince charming to rev up outside in a white Ford Escort. A few would like to imagine that I go home most evenings, watch Bridget Jones Diary and start a new diet. Then a very small minority of people think that I live a wild life of escapades and hang out in cocktail bars with men in suits. Others just think I’m lonely, lost and unlovable.

Take George (a friend) who owns an IT company. George lives in London, aged thirty three and makes no apology for his high income to the ladies he meets. 

“Your problem is you don’t advertise yourself enough. On these dating websites you have to think of yourself like a product” George stated. 

“What you want me to write? One previous owner and in good condition on the ‘About Me’ part” I replied.

“What else you going to write, about how you go to the cinema on your jack and belong to a union” He sarcastically blurted back at me.

“What’s wrong with that?” I questioned.

“I don't believe in unions for a start” He announced.

“What were you a mill or factory owner in a past life? I hope you get gout from your diet of fillet steak” I answered and rolled my eyes. George looked at me. If I was a product at this point he would of picked up his phone and demanded to speak to the complaints department about my behaviour. 

"Oh and what are you going to put on your profile? How your constantly chasing after cars, pink suits and buying hyped up toot you don't need?" I added. 


Like my appetite, my conversation with George had turned sour. I didn't see why I had to meet other peoples expectations of what it means to be a single woman. There would be no drinking of red wine, no sad films, no new diets and no creating a CV to sell oneself to potential dates. Only me, my kindle and a blank canvas. 



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Leaving the Circus!

‘Not my circus, not my monkeys’ is a famous Polish Proverb that a good friend once told me.  

Some say that not all who wander are lost; I believe that statement to be true. I remember many occasions after my breakup being the only girl at the BBQ that didn't have a boyfriend and that lived at home. I had felt like a gypsy, gathering up my belongings and moving back home (never quite feeling settled). What had happened to my dream of a house with a white picket fence?

Furthermore like a travelling one man band, my ex would after chase after me every couple of weeks with pleas and long winded stories of how he had changed. I would visualise his words as if they were candy floss, because like candy floss his promises would at first appear solid and sweet then dissolve into thin air.
I had left the circus and the repetitive cycle of lies, manipulation and fantasy. I had moved out of our modern show room apartment with its colour coordinated insides and instead I had chosen a life that was mine, where I was free.

I was no longer obliged to believe him anymore or feel sorry for him for that matter.


It wasn't easy; of course there were times when I wanted to return, but something kept me moving. I believed that I deserved better.

Reflecting on my past has made me come to realise that we have two trails of thought that guide us through making decisions. One trail of thought is emotional. When we are emotional we take risks, show our passion and often speak without caution. The other trail of thought is logical. When we try to use a sense of logic when making decisions, we reflect, calculate and weigh up the situation. 
When I decided not to return to my ex, it was a logical decision and one that would define my future.


Upon breaking out of the circus, I came to realise the importance of making logical decisions and not just living life through my emotions. I remember feeling enslaved by my ex's every word, waiting for him to break out of one of his moods or longing for his praise. I was there for him, not for me. Love no longer kept me there, only the illusion of security.