A Poem for those who find themselves single and middle aged!

I should be glad to be alive

But I hate being single aged 55!

My friends on Facebook are having fun

But they're all in couples, in twos not just one.

Romantic dinners and hikes in the Dales

Cream teas, spa days and trips to North Wales

The closest I get is a trip to the SPAR

It's just round the corner so not very far

A BIG bar of chocolate, ready meal for my tea

Which I eat while I binge Grey's Anatomy

 

Perhaps I need a new hobby, should I join a gym?

A book club? A dance class? I could fit something in

It just takes too much effort to move off the sofa

Far easier to sit here, a permanent loafer.

 

I could scroll on my phone, do online dating

Read profiles fake yet FASCINATING!

I'll send a wave, a smile, whatever

I like to think I'm being clever

But not a sausage, no reply

I add a new photo - I really do try!

 

Maybe I'm just not the greatest catch

Perhaps I am part of a faulty batch

And sadly I'm now out of guarantee

As I climb the stairs, you can hear my knees.

 

But people find love when it's meant to be

Cupid's arrow may fly but it never hits me

Perhaps I'm looking in all the wrong spots

My What Three Words muddled, words/three/what????

 

So, I wrote these words to commiserate

With all who despair at the lack of dates

Except the ones in the dried fruit aisle

And I do hope my words have at least made you smile :-)

A message to the two men at the bar…

Just how do people meet these days? Don’t give me that cliched answer of online, it’s a horrible way to connect, in my opinion.

I want to meet the old-fashioned way; a man picks up my accidently dropped glove in the street, our eyes meet and BOOM – love at first sight.

Or in a bookshop – why is that NOT a THING? Perusing the aisles, steer clear of freaky horror and bloody crime sections, head straight for Romance? Fantasy? Probably contemporary fiction is the best and safest place 😉

meeting in a bookshop from the film Dan in Real Life 

I can only dream of meetings in these locations. I file that thought away in the “future novels I may never write” folder.

Hilarity aside I was delighted to discover that a bar, near enough to me, but just far enough away to not be totally on my doorstep, regularly holds a singles night. Cherry* (not her real name) who runs the establishment is a bit of a matchmaker. You can tell she is itching to buy a hat for her first successful wedding.

Fifth Sunday hats by Ben Marc - discontinued

I’ve been to two such evenings now but there is something distinctly lacking. Although the men have been making enquiries about the event few have the oomph required to actually show up.

Considering it is a “Singles Night” most people turn up with friends for moral support but only a handful of us there last night had ventured out completely solo.

Last night I got talking to Jayne* (not her real name) who I had met last month and we soon caught up with what we’d been up to since we last met. Last month there had been a table of us, yesterday  just us two.

We both agreed Matt Hancock is creepy, but otherwise our political views meandered in opposite directions. We talked about books, there is some common ground there but Jayne is a really foodie with an appetite for travel. I’ve not visited half the places she has and gourmet food doesn’t excite me in quite the same way.

I don’t want to diss the sisterhood but I really don’t want to be stuck talking to her next month, just because we are the only two solo singles! To be honest I’m sure she feels the same way.

If it were a date I would have moved on sooner, but you can’t really leave a lone woman hanging, it would be rude.

Cherry came over and told us the two men at the bar were single.

“We have two empty seats at our table.” How bold was I? We desperately needed a spark to keep the flagging conversation going.

“Shall I send them over?” I nodded, feeling giddy and I swear I was only drinking lemonade.

But the men dithered and took too long to make a move, ordering more drinks for Dutch courage, one disappearing outside for a vape.

Meanwhile Jayne and I had grown bored of each other’s company we finished our drinks, decided to cut out losses and left in opposite directions.

Should we have waited longer and given them more of a chance? They looked nothing like Matt Hancock which is a promising start. There’s always next month I suppose, If I can pluck up the courage to venture out once more, it really isn’t easy for any of us.

So, my message to the two men at the bar is if you come again and see a cardigan wearing, bespectacled middle-aged woman with pink hair sat in the corner, that will be me – please come and say hello!

Singles’ Day

Are you aware that 11/11 is not only Remembrance Day but also Singles’ Day? 

A little bit of an unfortunate clash for us here in the UK but the concept was originally started by students at China’s Nanjing University as far back as 1993.

WOW – I actually was single then but married a year later. 

The general idea is that you treat yourself and take yourself out on a solo date.

For me every day is Singles Day as I can mostly do as I please and if something yummy should accidentally fall into my shopping trolley  – who cares!

I’ve recently written about going out on my own. I’ve just never called it self-dating before, which might be a term I’ve just sort of made up, inspired by Emma Watson calling her single status “self partnered”.

While I find the whole idea, vaguely interesting, as ever I struggle with the terminology – I’ve never been a fan of traditional labels.

I think it’s the word “self” that really bothers me – after all selfish starts with the same 4 letters.

It is sometimes depressing seeing friends on Facebook or even actually in real life, living the dream of being in a committed relationship, treating and surprising one another – oh to have someone in my life to spoil me like that!

But it’s a two-way process and I think Singles Day would be better spent spoiling other single friends, a bunch of flowers can go a long way, a phone call, a hand written card. Simple stuff really.

Of course sometimes the happily marrieds will tell us how lucky we are to be able to do exactly as we please, without considering a partner. We nod our heads sagely aware that we can binge on Netflix any time we like but every now and then it would be nice to have someone snuggling on the sofa next to us.

Why are we often so unsatisfied with our status? Making up new ways to celebrate because we are obviously unhappy. Justifying being kind to ourselves.

It’s not always easy being single and not always easy being part of a couple.

And what about the dreaded W word?

It will be nine years this week since I was widowed. Tell me when is the day to celebrate widowhood, or at least acknowledge it?

The rawness of it all has considerably mellowed over time but as I watch others lose their partners’ I am witness to that great chasm of grief that can so easily be all consuming and my heart weeps for them more than for me.

I’ve negotiated the labyrinth and although I can sometimes be sucked back in, I know there is a life beyond the label. I retrace my steps and bask in the sunlight enjoying the good times with as few regrets as possible. Life is too short to do otherwise.

A special day for widows is unnecessary – as is Singles’ Day in my opinion!

spending graphics in the article from the i Weekend yesterday

Ultimately it is a marketing dream, another commercial “made up” event to make us spend, spend, spend!

This year predictions are that Singles’ Day spending (£1.29bn) will be almost as high as spending on Black Friday (£1.49bn) – another spurious event!

Meanwhile Valentine’s Day, the day to celebrate coupledom in all its glory is completely overshadowed, spending only reaching a paltry £830m. Perhaps it just goes to show that when you are in a couple you actually have less of a disposable income!

However you decide to spend your day tomorrow - I'm going to shun the whole Singles's Day concept and instead spend some time quietly reflecting on far more important issues.

Pampering myself on my own terms also means picking a day and time that suits me - that really is the best way to live the single dream!