About ME

I was 35...

And I thought my life was over. Actually I didn’t even think it. I knew it. With the maths, in my mind it would take at least 2 years to get over him, 2 years to rebuild my life, meet someone, get them to fall in love with me and then propose, marriage then kids….um I was running out of years and I started to mourn the children and the life I would never have. I was grieving for my future and it was a raw, gut wrenching period that was full of loss, hurt and the future was hard to foresee. He robbed me of precious years I could never get back and that….was…that!

I literally went down a sink hole along with the left over peas and carrots after the washing up. I was used, I was done and I would never have kids of my own. My sister had her first child at this time, I became an Aunt and I figured this was the best I would get. I love my nieces with my whole heart, meanwhile my friends were all having kids and the best I could do was chime in about my nieces. Not really the same thing is it?

Strangely around this time, I started to get the attention of much younger men, I mean – much – younger – men. I do not know how this happened. Yes I was hanging out with a younger crowd. I didn’t really have much choice, my friends kept getting married and having kids so I would have to make new friends and they kept getting younger as I got older!

It was also some of the most fun times of my life. I bought a new car, an apartment, made it my own and created a new life albeit with a young but fun group of friends (which are still some of my besties today). We had girly weeks away, went overseas, went to work functions and the young guys kept rolling in and it was fun but it was not getting me any closer to meeting ‘the one’ or ‘anyone’ really. Eventually I decided I needed to move back to Sydney and put down some ‘mature’ roots.

I was now in my late 30’s and seriously slogged it out at work for the following 5 years. I worked for a major radio network and was always busy. I worked my arse off and was battling it out amongst the advertising media world, where there are some big hitters who didn’t care if you did 10 hours overtime in a week, as long as they had what they needed, in their hands by deadline.

In hindsight it was bullshit but hey, I didn’t have anything else going on in my life, so I just slogged it out. And slogged it out. I bought all of the handbags and sunglasses I wanted and every year I took a 5 week trip overseas and travelled my way through some very cool parts of the world on my own. Because I could.I had worked hard and travelling was my passion. I was entitled and working towards a better paid job so I could do more of this on repeat! I spent all my hard earned cash because I was single and even though what I really wanted was to have a family, all I had was a hole in my heart that needed to be filled – so I poured possessions all over it instead, so that at least I looked well dressed if single.

The guys I started to meet in Sydney were basically male versions of me (closed off but full of promise). They may have had money or power but they were pure arsehole. They thought I was fabulous and then they would disappear, or had a hidden girlfriend or freaked out about my age or just grrrr, blergh, dergh I dunno. I was meeting the Sydney underbelly of men. The leftovers. The good guys are decent people that get married young and respectful, loyal and remain so. There are others, ambitious ones who move to New York and London and have exotic girlfriends or wives that they bring home once a year to Australia for Christmas. Then you are left with the ones who are on the re-bound from a spiteful relationship 10 years ago and can’t let go and don’t really want you but taunt you anyway. Then there are the bottom feeders, the ones who simply never could and never will, get their shit together. They are the ones who are just floating around on the bottom of the sea bed, bouncing from one bit of debris to the next and bringing all sorts of shit along with them for the journey. I met them all and nothing good ever came out of it.

Standing on my own to the side of the room, wistfully looking bored, I had someone saddle up next to me and ask me how I was doing? Who knows how I answered that question all those years ago but somehow we struck up a conversation that led to travel, diving and a few other common interests.

The whole time, I was trying to work out this guys nationality - was he Spanish? Mauritian? European of some sort? I couldn't work it out. He said he was going to get a drink from the bar and asked if I wanted anything. I declined and decided to go to the bathroom and embarrassingly ended up walking behind him without him knowing. I quickly went to the women's and on my return couldn’t see him. How could I lose someone in this tiny party? My heart sank a little- he had been nice to talk to. So here I was disappointed and bored and I wanted to go home. My sister had promised me we could go to Guzman and Gomez at the end of the night, as I had just come back from Central America, my negotiation for Mexican food was the only reason I ended up agreeing to finally going to the party.

I was begging my sister to let’s go home, just as the party seemed to pick up tempo. There was cake and singing and out of the mix the guy I had been talking to popped up. He saw me and my heart lifted a little. For once it wasn’t the physical attraction that was hooking me in but the nice, easy going conversation, it had felt comfortable. Even at that very early moment, I knew I was happier when he was around me than when he wasn't. He said we should go out sometime on a date, get a drink or something and the way he said it made me feel confident he would call. I mean for a start he called it a ‘date’. However he did call me by the wrong name and thought it was Stacey!

After correcting him on my name we all left and my sister and I went to Guzman and Gomez as promised. I was happy knowing I had met - just as mum had predicted - a 'nice guy' who called just like he said he would. The date didn't happen for another fortnight, I finally succumbed to the flu after a month of travel and partying, so had to cancel our first date. It seemed to be doomed in those early days but somehow here we are today. There's a million stories I could tell about us and how we almost didn't happen but that's a story for another time.