Focus more on how someone makes you feel than what you think you want
Recently I’ve found myself spending time with someone who isn’t the sort of person I’d imagined myself with. He doesn’t read—actually, he read a few pages of my book Notes on Heartbreak and stopped because it wasn’t his thing. He sometimes comes out with things that mortify me slightly. But at the same time, he’s really kind. He picks me up from my place in his car because he doesn’t want me to walk in the cold; he makes me dinner when I go over; he’s an actual grown-up in a way a lot of men aren’t.
Our differences may prove too much long-term—I don’t know if it will start to frustrate me that he doesn’t want to do any of the things I want to do—but I feel secure but not smothered in a way I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced before. You might think your type is arty guys with mustaches—the sort who DJ and live in draughty warehouse conversions—but those guys might make you miserable. What you think you want is often different from what you need. On apps, you don’t look at people as a whole, but as lists of traits they’re selling to you. It makes us consider each other in terms of ticked boxes. Try to think more about how the people you date make you feel.
If he wanted to, he would
This year I’ve been lucky enough to have someone really like me, the sort of liking where their friends keep coming up to you on nights out and asking how you feel about them. The sort of liking where you don’t need to check if they’ve seen your Instagram Story because you know they will have. I knew I could do or say almost anything, and it wouldn’t change how he felt about me. In a weird way, it panicked me, and I wondered whether I’d let myself go if I was with him.
He didn’t like me because I’m funny, or because my boobs sit nicely without a bra; he liked me just because he did—and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that (which is a whole other thing entirely). Still, I got to learn what it felt like to be really liked, Bridget Jones-style, just the way I am. We didn’t end up together, but the experience has changed me. Like, the other day, when someone I’d been dating for a bit stopped replying to me, it didn’t hurt—and it didn’t surprise me either, because even though we really got on, and he laughed at my stories, and paid for our drinks, he didn’t look at me in the same way the other guy did. I feel freer now, because I realize how little someone liking you has to do with what you do or say—it’s just inevitable.
You have to put the time in
A guy friend of mine told me that he reckons he could have had a really good relationship with 90% of the women he’s dated—and he’s dated a lot of women. I mean, you’ve probably dated him. He’s waiting for something to click—some kind of magical feeling that’s so strong it will make him run through an airport to stop her getting on a flight, like they do in rom-coms. That feeling does exist, but it doesn’t come after three dates. It’s the result of really getting to know someone, asking them big questions, experiencing things together. You have to stick around long enough to make fun of them, to be quiet together without it feeling awkward. What if, instead of finding another person to get to know, my friend stuck around with the last girl long enough to know who she really is? What then?
If someone disrespects you, dump them. It’s that simple
In the past, when guys treated me badly, friends would often say, “You deserve so much better than that,” and I would ignore them because I thought, as long as I knew my own worth, I could still be with someone who didn’t—as if a guy’s actions only reflected badly on him, not me. But this year I’ve ended it with a few people who were messing me around, and I’ve come away feeling so much better about myself—so much more confident and self-assured. I’ve even gotten over them more quickly. In accepting less, you are, by default, telling yourself that’s what you deserve. You can’t intellectualize your way out of that.
Don’t worry about him—he’s fine
I was worried I’d really hurt this guy by ending things between us. I’d been unsure about him when we were seeing each other. I’d not communicated as well as I could have. Afterwards, I assumed all his friends hated me and pictured them dragging me at the pub. Then I had dinner with someone, and he asked me how I felt about the fact that the guy had a new girlfriend. I was literally speechless—not because I was upset, but because the narrative I’d written in my head was so different from the reality.
My friends and I are always worrying about the men we’ve dated—whether their weird beard is a sign of a bigger problem, encouraging their mates to reach out to them even if they’re difficult and stubborn. Sometimes there’s cause to worry, but most of the time, they’re fine. They might even have a new girlfriend. So don’t waste time fretting or feeling guilty. Instead, just think about what you want, because I promise you, that’s what they’re doing.
There’s no value in proving your worth to someone who rejected you
A while back, I bought a ticket for a club night because I knew this guy who ghosted me would be there. I told myself I wanted to go out, that it would be fun. Really, I just wanted him to see me looking hot and unbothered. I know from experience this never happens. You spend all night watching them in your peripheral vision, disappointed to see they’re never looking back at you but instead laughing with their mates, one of whom you’re worried they’re getting with.
