Posted in Friends, Life, Random Thoughts, Relationships

My ex is now gay… How am I supposed to feel about it?

I’m not sure why I am actually writing this as I know I should not have any angst about my ex being gay. But yet, I sort of do.


Our History

My ex is one of the world’s loveliest people. We met at University where he ‘had a crush on me’ for a year before we finally decided to start dating. All was great for about 9 months. Unfortunately we didn’t have a lot of time together and we were coming up to an exam period then a whole year away from each other so we had a very amicable split (there was still a lot of crying involved). We remained friends through our final year at university and I last saw him and his family at our graduation ceremony just over a year ago. All his family and friends (aswell as my family and friends) cheered when my name was read during the ceremony… I still tear up thinking about it.



Our friends encouraged us to get together and my mates had a standing joke that even though we weren’t together, in 10 years time we would be married and living on a farm.

(Side note: I didn’t believe I’d actually marry him, it was just a joke between our friends, I’m in a happy relationship of my own)

This Year

After Uni I moved across the country and he went travelling so we haven’t really spoken.

Last week, I noticed that he changed his relationship status to ‘in a relationship’. My initial thoughts were “Aww that’s great” I know that he was close to a girl in our final year at uni but that he’d not been in a relationship since we broke up in 2014. I did the ‘normal’ thing of scrolling through his page to see if I could find the girl as she wasn’t tagged in the life event. Nothing. I decided to leave it. (usual comments from friends saying “so happy for you” “really pleased for you” etc.)

This weekend, whilst trawling through the usual garbage on my phone I see that he’s been tagged seeing a show in the West End. Nothing particularly unusual there, I’ve not really known him to go to the theatre and he’s never particularly liked musicals but I pretty much ignored it.

Then there was another tag… and another. Clearly the friend he was with is a prolific status updater.

Finally a photo appeared, I recognised the other guy from the pictures on his page. The caption underneath “You two look so cute together, so happy for you both”.

It all fell into place.

Cue immediate text to my friends.

He’s gay.





We went to a university where there is maybe one openly gay person, no one really minds but it’s just not particularly common.

Don’t get me wrong, I have absolutely no problem with it, my oldest friend is gay and I’ve supported her through every girlfriend and break up since she told me in 2010. I love her to bits and couldn’t care less who she’s seeing as long as she’s happy. Why would there be any problem now?

But there is – not a problem, just a weird feeling.

I know I shouldn’t care, I know I need to just be happy that he looks so happy.

I know that I shouldn’t be replaying old memories to try to find any sign because I know there isn’t any.

But how do I wrap my head around it? There seems to be so many unanswered questions..

Has he always felt like this?

Was it something that happened during his year travelling?

Is he gay or bi?

Should I talk to him about it?


None of these questions matter. I haven’t spoken to him in so long that it would seem strange to message him out of the blue now and ask any of them. He will be going through enough emotions so it is not his job to deal with any angst that I may have.

I totally understand that making this public won’t have been a decision he will have taken lightly. I know his parents will treat him exactly the same and won’t care in the slightest, our friends won’t either.

I just can’t understand how I am supposed to feel. We have so many memories together and now I’m questioning how happy he really was. Am I supposed to be disappointed? Angry? Sad? Pleased? Jealous?

I don’t feel any of those emotions, more just curious and a slightly confused. There is no prescribed feeling for this or even an agony aunt letter with a helpful reply so I’m really just venting my frustration at the emotionless void I have.

When not even google has an answer, I know it’s not worth worrying about.


I apologise for the length of this post. I do not intend to offend anyone and I know that it shouldn’t matter how I’m feeling when it is someone else who has to now cope with the unfair idiotic prejudice against them.


Posted in Family, Friends, Life, Random Thoughts, Relationships

More attached to my Car than my Partner

My latest relationship failure has made me think more about the fact I’m more attached to my cars than my relationships.

Is that my problem or theirs?

Please don’t take this the wrong way, I do not have any sort of physical relationship with my car. I would never go so far as to be someone who marries their vehicle. The people who ‘come out’ as being in a relationship with an object confuse me, but hey, as long as their happy right?

I have just noticed more and more that my attachment to them is stronger than that to my exs.


Dorian, 1.9, GSOH, OH (Good Sense of Humour, Own Horn)


I bought my first car at 19, a 2001 Land Rover Freelander. It became a bargaining chip between myself and my parents, I could buy any car I wanted (with my own money) if I took my driving test again – I’d failed a couple of times and was refusing to go back through the hell of it all.

The car, I named Dorian, was my soul mate. I loved every inch of that little silver beast. He cost me £2,500, looking back this was a rip off but I didn’t care. £1,000 on insurance and about £300 on car tax was a small price to pay for the freedom he offered.

A 1.9litre deisel was never going to be fuel-efficient or environmentally friendly but he offered comfort, safety and a hell of a lot of fun.

I’ve loved Land Rovers all of my life and now I’m proud to say I had one for my first car.

He had multiple ‘operations’ where I* changed starter motors, several crank shaft pulleys and the battery *with the help of my father. The garage changed all the breaks, pads, disks, shoes, cables, as well as corroded housing, oil lines, anti-roll links, exhaust pipes etc. He was almost a completely new car under the bonnet. I even needed a new horn, my road rage had worn out the old one.

The day he finally gave up on me was heartbreaking. The head gasket blew and the plumes of black, white and blue smoke that poured out of him showed me that it was time to say goodbye. I cried more over my baby Landy than any boy.

He sat still for 4 months before being sold to a friend’s son. I’m proud to say he started up and drove onto the trailer before being taken away, it was like a final goodbye. He’s been completely restored and is back on the road in the hands of another Land Rover enthusiast who I hope enjoys him as much as I did for the 3 years we were together.

3 years, that’s 8 months longer than any relationship I’ve been in.



Gaston, 1.9, ISOSTR (In Search Of Short Term Relationships)



After getting over the heartbreak and being at a complete loss without a vehicle, I decided to ask my parents to find me something fun. They succeeded with a 2005 Vauxhall Tigre – convertible, 1.9l ball of enjoyment.

There’s a huge difference to driving a 1.9litre four-wheel drive and a 1.9litre convertible. Size and speed couldn’t be more different. I introduced the convertible to as many people as possible, it was just so much fun, annoyingly it was also more expensive, at least in insurance terms.

I still dream of the day my insurance is under £1,000.

The main issue I had with my little convertible, Gaston, was… he couldn’t climb trees.

3 months after I bought him, he was sold for scrap. Long story short, after a lot of spinning we parted ways in a ditch, the only casualties being the car and a few trees that got in the way.


Time to look for car number 3. Car shopping is not fun when you’re being forced to do it quickly and with no money, similarly to choosing a partner.



Vince, 1.6, Tall Dark and Handsome



I settled, after a lot of shopping around, for the new Suzuki Vitara. Vincent was collected in December. The glossy black paintwork shone in the evening sunshine.

A sublte-but-sexy, modern, four wheel drive. Less power, more safety features. He came with all the gadgets (because I demanded them). If I’m spending the next 3 years paying for this then I want everything.

It took a while for the pride of a brand-spanking-new car to wear off but now I’ve begun my new love affair with this pretty guy.

I’ve had around 5 partners (give or take) to my 3 cars. I’ve cried more over a scratch than I have an argument. I definitely have spent more on the cars, both in terms of both money and time. I might not be able to cuddle my car but it provides so much more fun and general satisfaction.


I might not have found “the one” but my car is keeping me happy.

Posted in Food, General Issues, Life, Relationships, Weight-loss

The Post Break-Up Binge

I wasn’t going to bore anyone with this but I think it’s important for me to get off my chest how much I miss… eating carbs.

To cut a long story short, I have been with the boyfriend for 17 months, we met at University where he was an older first year and I was about to graduate. We kept up a decent long distance thing for 13 months but for the past 2 it has become very clear that we’ve grown apart. I’ve grown up, he refuses to.

Thursday night saw a series of phone calls where things finally ended. I just felt relief. I realise how bad that may sound but I have had a few weeks to process it and gear myself up to actually saying something to him.


After the usual messages to friends to let them know (much to their relief as well I’m sure) and a call home to inform the parents, I went to bed late and set my alarm for an extra 30 minute lie in.

I deserved it.

Strangely I didn’t need it, I woke up at my usual time and was able to get up straight away without the daily bartering and mental preparation I go through to pull myself out of bed.

I just had the urge to clean.


I live in a one-bedroom flat, cleaning doesn’t take too long. Whenever my now ex used to visit he would leave a trail of rubbish, dirt, tobacco and weed behind him. Weekends were always a difficult time for my OCD. The moment I dropped him at the train station a huge feeling of excitement would wash over me as I realised I could clean without him judging me. The flat would be disinfected, polished, sheets changed, floors mopped, washing up done etc. within an hour of me arriving home. BLISS



So Friday morning, even though he hadn’t visited in at least 5 weeks I got up to clean. Texts from friends checking on me were replied to with a happy breezy comment whilst I sat on my neat and freshly wiped leather sofa with a well-deserved coffee.



pexels-photo-57799Friday then saw an extremely productive day at work, though I’ve not told my colleagues what happened yet. In the evening I packed an overnight bag for the weekend and relaxed with a funny Ryan Reynolds film, perfectly cooked steak followed by a bowl of ice cream. Yes, I didn’t even eat it out of the tub!


Is this the easiest break-up I’ve ever had? I think so.


Sunday was a little more difficult. I should have seen him but obviously now didn’t have to. A great night out with my best friend and night in a hotel gave me, at best, 4 hours sleep, followed by “continental breakfast” (always disappointing when sausages are on offer) and a 3 hour train journey home.

I walked in and cracked.


I had put wet laundry on an airer before I left so whilst I put everything away and unpacked my bag a pan full of pasta bubbled away.

My almost carb free diet was ruined. I needed filling comfort food to help me relax before Monday morning comes around.


I haven’t cried about this, I’ve hardly even felt sad but my hunger for pasta, potatoes and bread has increased. They have left a much larger hole in my life.


Sunday evening was more productive. After I ate a glorious bowl of squishy yellow goodness I convinced myself I needed to get up and do something so I could help the digestion.

More cleaning. I put everything away down to the last hair grip. As I came to the final hurdle – the washing up – I crashed and went back to the comfort of the sofa and an episode of The Office (US).


I instantly regretted not washing up when I awoke today. One of my best friends has offered to come over and cook for me tonight while I lounge on the sofa with a glass of wine – his words!

So obviously I can’t expect him to wash up before he starts.

It’s my choice what he cooks for dinner… Can I have a meal that is solely made from carbs?