Yesterday I turned 24, one step closer to 25...one step closer to 30. Beginning to feel the body clock ticking and beginning to feel the urge to settle down.
It's terrible really, 24 isn't old by any stretch of the imagination. But it feels like a turning point, 12 and being in my first year at High School is now a half way point in life. The people I met in that first year, some of them still friends to this day, I've known them for half of my life.
But at the same time reaching 24 is also a personal mile stone for me, or really just reaching this birthday and being okay. So this seemed the perfect time to reflect on the last year and what I have lost and what I have achieved.
When I look back at the last year I have gone through so much and made some drastic changes. This time last year I was visiting my parents, sitting on the sofa with my mum and my fiancé at the time and hunting through Rightmove, planning viewings and meetings to discuss mortgages. I of course knew things weren't right, I remember huge arguments that week, but in my head I had convinced myself that this was how life was going to be for me, this was it and there was no point worrying about it, I couldn't change it, and maybe, just maybe, once we moved and found our own house, things would be okay.
In the next couple of months that followed we went to countless viewings of houses, I remember manic Saturday's, with viewings booked 20minutes apart and racing around towns to get to the next house on time. We had meetings with the bank and had a mortgage in place. Our first full day of viewings we fell in love with a house. There was nothing special about it, but it just felt nice. We left and straight away spoke to my parents to see if they could do a second viewing with us. A few days later and a second viewing complete we sat in the car together ready to put an offer in...but instead of being excited and nervous together, we had an argument, a relatively normal occurrence for us, but really should have been a red flag. I put it down to nerves and tensions though, we were about to offer to give people literally 100s of 1000s of pounds. So sitting there I made my first call to put an offer in on a house, needless to say it wasn't successful, and 2 further offers later the vendor announced they would like to hang out for the full price, something we weren't willing to pay.
So the hunt continued and we eventually found a little cottage in a small town outside of London which seemed to tick enough boxes that we could imagine living there. The next morning after our viewing I called and put in an offer, a few calls later and a slightly higher final offer submitted and I got the call we had been waiting for to tell us our offer had been accepted, the house was one step closer to being ours. The vendors had not yet found a property they wanted to buy, something which at the time was frustrating, but looking back now was potentially the thing that saved me from a life of unhappiness.
Work was going well for me and I took on an extra day. My fiancé was facing redundancy in the July, but we knew the package would help with our move, allow us to potentially build an extension, and we weren't too worried about him finding another job shortly after. Life ticked by for a few more weeks, things seemed to be falling into place, we began plans for moving and starting the next stage of our lives together. We argued lots and I cried daily, but it had become so normal that I barely even noticed. To this day I don't know what the exact turning point was, but on the train home from work one day I stood next to a girl and saw her swiping away on her phone at an app, which I later discovered was Tinder. I realised that someone, similar to my age was standing there and connecting with people around her. I realised I was alone. I had never made friends in London and never actually got involved with anything, for a variety of reasons, but predominantly due to my relationship. I think I had this in the back of my mind for the next few days until I came to the realisation that there was a lot more wrong than just not having friends.
I reached out to a few people I hadn't spoken to in years, and made a few new friends through other means and began to open up. Opening up to relative strangers, or people from your past who don't know the current you, is refreshing, they see you and your life in a completely different way. They didn't know my fiancé and they didn't know any of the stories. As soon as I started talking out loud about the problems and the hurt, it was almost as if I began accepting it and realising it wasn't right. I remember one friend saying to me, "If it was me saying this to you, imagine what you'd do" A crushing realisation that if I heard any of my friends were in the situation I was, I would be literally air lifting them out of there on an emergency rescue mission.
A day or so later I began to open up to close friends and to family, opening up bit by bit and telling them things that I'd kept hidden for years. They all knew that things weren't perfect, they'd all seen and heard arguments, but I don't think any of them realised to what extent things were so terribly wrong. I confessed to my 3 best friends that the hours I had missed from one friends wedding were not due to some naughty business in the bushes somewhere as everyone had expected, but were instead due to confessions of cheating from my fiancé. That we had sat on the opposite side of the lake to her wedding, watching a day all about love and trust, and he had sat there and confessed (eventually after many temporary lies and changing of facts) that for the first year of our relationship he had continued an emotional and physical relationship with his ex. Now don't get me wrong, lies had been coming out and facts being uncovered for the 3 years we'd been together, but he had always vowed that despite the secret visits to hers (she lived in New York) and the letters, phone calls, online chats etc, that they had only been friends and he had been leading her on. But sitting there on that bench he told me, what I can only assume was the actual truth, although to this day I assume there was probably more that never came out. Of course my friends supported me and said all the right things. I went on to tell them about incidents, things he'd done, thing's he had said. My confessions were met with shock and sadness. I then went on to speak to my mum, long phone calls and tears, not so much telling her situations and incidents, no parents want to hear about those things, but just opening up about how unhappy I was.
This was now May, the vendors of the house we were buying had still found nowhere and we were in limbo. I had discreetly began considering the idea of moving out. I was living in a flat my fiancé owned, and if the relationship came to an end, I would be homeless in London, 3 hours from my family and friends.
The first weekend in June I did something I hadn't done since we had got engaged, and I took a weekend just for myself and went back to visit my parents alone. The feeling of getting on those trains was something I can't explain. I was going home, I was going to see my friends and my family, and for just a couple of days, I didn't have to be sad. The couple of days there was exactly what I needed, we ate icecream and chocolates, we cried, we talked and generally we enjoyed each others company. I sobbed the entire train journey back to London, so desperate to not leave my home and the people who loved me. So desperate not to return to a life which I hated, where I cried daily and didn't feel safe. Me going away caused problems and arguments, but I had gone back knowing I needed to leave. I spent the next 3 weeks hunting mercilessly for somewhere else to live. I realised it made sense to move closer to work, to literally the other side of London.
June is a blur when I look back now. I spent a lot of time with a new friend, who turned out to be the best person I had ever met, I avoided being at home whenever I could, sometimes not getting back until 1am, and leaving again for work at 7:30am. Going out for walks, finding excuses to go shopping. Me and my fiancé talked occasionally about the situation, both of us knowing it was over, but both unsure of how to handle things. I remember trying to explain to him, the past made me miserable, his cheating and all the problems, the present was destroying me and I could no longer imagine our future, I couldn't picture a wedding and children, I couldn't picture a happy life together. At the end of June I found a flat that was out of my price range, but was what I needed. It wouldn't be available until the end of the following month, but I knew I had to take it. I spent July trying to keep the peace, we actually went out together a few times, both with this unrealistic idea, that maybe space was all we needed and living apart would actually bring us closer together. We went out for meals and a couple of days out and ignored the elephant in the room. Thing's got more tense when we discussed dividing possessions, particularly the pets which I was not willing to leave for their own benefit.
The week of moving rolled round and I had packed 1 box of books and 1 bag of clothes. I was lost. Untangling your life from someone else's is something I never want to have to do again, even when you know what is yours and what is there's, things are still hard. I made a conscious decision that anything shared I would leave behind, this was an emotional and gut decision, something which I sometimes wonder if it was the right choice. In the haste and emotions of moving I also left a lot of things that were mine, some conscious decisions. I didn't want to take the bed and mattress we had shared even though they had been mine, some forced decisions, I couldn't face sorting through appliances in the kitchen, and some decisions taken from my hands, like all the digital work I had saved on a shared drive which he never allowed me access to.
The day of moving he was at work, a good thing in hindsight. He left in the morning and kissed me goodbye, we both assumed we would see each other again, probably the following weekend when he came to bring more of my stuff, or I went down to collect things. Little did I know that would be the last time we would see each other.
Driving away from the flat that day I expected to cry, I expected to feel lost. But instead I just felt empty, I felt nothing.
Moving to a new place was hard and was emotional. I had one friend who was my rock through it all and to this day means the world to me. Many an evening listening to loud music and drinking cider and having a cry together. We both opened up to each other and helped each other through some tough times. He will always be my wolf, and I his blackbird.
I heard nothing from my ex for the first two weeks after I left, we then spoke a few times for the next fortnight, arguments at 2am in the morning on the phone, painful comments and accusations. I remember him ringing in the middle of the night and I didn't answer, so he kept calling, when I finally answered he accused me of being a whore and having another man in my bed. That was the breaking point. I told him we were just friends and that's all we would ever be, and that even though I didn't, if there was a man in my bed it would be nothing to do with him. We lost contact from that point on, and apart from one text asking for his keys back, to which I responded by asking for my stuff back. We never spoke again, and I assume never will. I didn't miss him or our relationship, the man I had fallen in love with was long gone, and tbh I'm not sure was ever real, just a façade he had created to draw me in.
Work wise, at the end of August I handed my notice in on what had been a dream job. Sadly the work had changed and more importantly the atmosphere had changed. There was tension and bad feelings in the office and some completely uncalled for comments and actions by one member of staff. It was sad to leave there, but I never regretted my choice as I knew it was right. One month in to living alone and I was unemployed. I had resigned so wasn't entitled to any support. Luckily I had left my ex with some savings intact so had enough to live on for the two months of job hunting. At the end of October, Halloween in fact, I started a new job working as a designer and CAD technician. Ups and downs came with the job and ultimately I knew from day one it was never going to be anything long term.
Over the first few months I met new people, went on a few dates, rebound dates more than anything, but it was nice to be reminded that I was attractive and that I could find happiness one day when I was ready. I craved a relationship again, but knew I wasn't ready at all. With two close friends I did the whole online dating thing, we had varying degrees of success, all at times being hurt, let down, disgusted and generally entertained by the world of internet romance. Towards the end of 2014 I met a couple of lovely guys, some went on for a considerable number of dates, but nothing was ever right. My fellow online dating friends found people for one night things or longer dates, but we all went into the new year single and content. All by that point happy to be single and not searching, but just willing to let life happen.
Mid December I got talking to a guy online, he seemed nice and we got on well. I'd been going on dates with someone else for a while, but it was clear although we got on well, we had different values and expectations for a relationship. But this new person seemed to have those fundamental things in common. After 2 attempts at meeting up after Christmas, the third time we got lucky and had our first meet up/first date on the 6th January.
Now from going on a wide range of online dates I never expect much, I always have a friend ready with an escape plan and I always make sure whatever we're doing isn't time restrained. We had arranged to go for dinner, not my normal choice, a drink is less time based, but it would be straight after work and we'd both be hungry so made sense. I remember almost every detail of the evening, from my nerves on the walk into town (baring in mind I never get nervous before dates!) to the embarrassing first comment I made "God, you're tall", through to the things we talked about over food, the jokes and topics we covered, the endless wait for the bill, that we just filled with effortless conversation. After food we wandered through town and found a pub to settle down in, the conversation continuing and just feeling natural. Eventually noticing the time we decided it was time to go. The walk back to his car felt too short, the evening felt like it had so much more to give. We hugged, far longer than I think either of us expected, I felt shy and giggly around him, laughing at the fact my glasses were steamed up as we pulled apart. We hugged again and he unlocked the car and started the engine before turning to me and saying "You know what" and going in for a kiss.
As I said I never expect much from first dates, but I walked home that night with shivers. What followed was another 3 dates, one at home where I was ill and he turned up with flowers, one where we went out to a comedy show and almost felt like a couple and a 3rd surprise date where he turned up just because he wanted to see me. The fourth date we had a full day out, creating memories to last a life time. From giant sloths and stuffed monkeys, to giant oreos and bleeding fingers. A day that we talked about so much, where we discussed how life is a journey, a day neither of us is likely to forget in a hurry, especially seen as he took this day to ask me to be his travel companion, to be his girlfriend.
This first month together, of hopefully the rest of our lives, as been amazing, it feels like it's been 6 months and we both keeping looking at each other and going "How did we get here" because its all just happened so naturally and so effortlessly. We have the deepest and the most serious conversations, things that most people would run from this early on in a relationship, but we talk about them with the view that we're both here for the long run, through the ups and downs. The idea that our grandparents generations didn't replace things, they fixed them, is something that runs true with both of us. If you love someone you are accepting of the idea that there will likely be hard times, but that those hard times just give you a way to become stronger as individuals and together. He's truly changed my life in just a short space of time, encouraging me and giving me self belief. From silly things like getting me to say out loud "I like myself" to serious things like helping me get career on track. He's an inspiration and a role model, more than he will ever realise.
When you find someone who you can be yourself around, someone who is a best friend and a lover, and someone who you believe you can face anything with, that's when you realise why it never worked out with anyone else. Yes you get the shivers and excitement of new love, but its about more than that, it's about knowing that you want the same things in life and you have the same drive behind you to achieve them. It's about know that with that person you can, and you will achieve great things, both as individuals and as a couple.
Here we are now, a month on, and as cheesy and as soppy as it sounds, I think I now understand what love is and the idea of soul mates. It's about the little things, and the big things, it's about emotions and the physical.
It's the point where you are 100% complete and content as you, and just you, but when you're with that other person you just shine.
I sit here now, a year on from house hunting in a toxic relationship, 7 months on from taking the plunge and moving on alone, and 1 month on from meeting my soul mate.
I am about to start a dream job, about to move to a dream home and about to begin the next stage what I no longer hope, but know, will be the most amazing life.
