Journey To My Husband – Part Two

Some people take advantage of the fact I find it difficult to say no/take part in any face-to-face conflict/not pay my way and that’s something I was about to find out. So once I had gotten over that guy, I embarked on many nights out with my new work friends. Working in a supermarket during a breakup was great for my self esteem, turns out boys like a girl in a tartan uniform and bootleg trousers – who knew? So one late evening in the grim local nightclub, after snogging to a Justin Timberlake track, I found myself in a long-term relationship, 4 years to be precise. It carried on throughout my University years, many fancy dress parties and then it ended. This breakup was a bit different to the last because I believe it was the making of me – not in a horrible way but after the usual break-up downtime, I felt free.

I had my sh*t together now, I knew who I was and I was definitely ready for the world…

In reality, I spent most of my time shopping with my Mum. I bagged my first design job in a little fashion/interior shop during the week and on the weekend my Mum and I were let loose. We’d visit a new shopping destination every Saturday, sometimes again on a Sunday. When we were feeling particularly fruity, we’d do Lakeside and Bluewater IN THE SAME DAY. We were unstoppable and I believe it was during this time we were not only Mother and Daughter but best friends too, something that hasn’t changed since. Just maybe less shopping, because you know money doesn’t grow on trees right? I’d buy a new outfit every Saturday for a night out that evening. I became fond of Peacock’s shoe section and to this day remember the atrocious patent black heels with a white trim that I loved so dearly. Two years of single Valentines Days probably cost me more than any one in a relationship because wow, who knew it was so much fun buying single presents for yourself?! I did use being single as an excuse to treat myself (every weekend) and it was bloody great.

So all in all my single years were spent mostly poor but with a GOD DAMN YES wardrobe, bursting at the seams. Although, I have all those clothes to thank because that’s when I decided to start this blog. Love life wise, I texted a few boys, drunken kissed a few and obviously had a few disaster dates because let’s face it, this post wouldn’t exist otherwise, would it now?

I distinctively remember how I used to feel walking into “the club” every Saturday evening.

I had my new clothes on, freshly fake tanned skin and I had spent the last 5 hours applying so much makeup that I’m sure some of it still sits on my face. However, none of that gave me the confidence I oozed whilst walking up the steps, my hair swishing back like Beyonce, towards the bar whilst the DJ blasted out ‘Put Your Hands Up for Detroit‘, that was all down to the large amounts of Peach Lambrini I had downed prior to leaving my bedroom. In those single years I brought enough Peach Lambrini to keep them in business – infact since being married I havent actually seen a bottle of the stuff since.

So even though I was looking great in my black tube dress, neon green bra and hefty side fringe I only ever seemed to attract old drunk guys.

Dates actually came few and far between, so I mostly agreed to them if they were under 60, had hair and I somehow knew of them/their family/knew they didn’t have a criminal record, which actually didn’t come around too often.

One of those dates (who I knew from School) randomly texted me and decided he wanted to take me for dinner. Ah, well dinner wasn’t my favourite but cool, okay, he’s not a pensioner – sure! So there we are, sitting in this posh restaurant and oh my GOD what do I say to this man? I couldn’t think of a single thing to talk about and neither could he, so we sat in silence for most of the meal and that was just so. much. fun. Even the waitress looked awkward, and that’s when you know it’s a very bad date. The highlight for me was when I nervously flicked my leg and my slip on shoe flew across the restaurant, under another couple’s table and he didn’t even shed a single laugh. As I crawled under the tables to fetch it I did fantasize about running for the nearest exit, with or without my shoe.

So, somehow I agreed to go on another date with him. I watch First Dates now and wonder how these people gather the courage to tell each other they weren’t feeling it TO THEIR FACE when I struggled to do it even over text! So yes, I was a wimp. However, learning from some previous mistakes this time I suggested the cinema, aka limited talking. As a kind gesture after he paid for our tickets (obviously he chose Wednesday’s 2 for 1 evening to take me) I agreed to pay for the ‘snacks’, because you know I am a Woman of equal rights!

Well, let’s just say, he obviously hadn’t eaten for WEEKS because he literally couldn’t fit any more sweets, snacks, crisps in his hand IF HE TRIED. I watched him gather as much food as he could and he even held it all in his arms as if he was holding a small child. I think he may have even muttered “I love you” to his can of £6 coke. I didn’t really know whether to laugh or cry because wow, this guy was really enjoying spending ALL of my money on food. And yes, he was a very noisy eater, and the whole cinema probably hated me for dating him as much as I did too.

If you missed Part One, catch it here!