Sunday, 16 September 2018


OK, BEFORE WE BEGIN - This blog post is not inspired by, 'To the boys I've loved before' on Netflix. I'm pretty sure I've talked about writing this blog post to a zillion of my friends (ok, all the 4ish I have), for ages. If you've followed me for a while, you'll know that relationships/love and all that jazz is something I enjoy writing about. (I wish I knew why, too). I've been single for as long as I can remember, (I mean, not that long - around 2 years now I guess?) and considering I've been loved up since the age of 17, with not many significant pauses in between, this lonesome gap has given me a lot of, lets say, reflection time.


Number one, is obliged to be my number one - forever, I guess! Even though I am now 26, I still look back on this time in my life with great fondness and light hearted memories, (when I ignore all the fights/arguments lol). I will always feel so grateful for having a stereotypical 'first love'.
I fell in love for the first time when I'd not long turned 17. From what I remember of it, it was everything you'd hope it would be, the perfect recipe for a teenage romance. The boy that everyone seemed to have a crush on, had a crush on me (?!)(lol, 'crush'). Sneaking into bedrooms when we weren't permitted to have same bedroom sleepovers, falling asleep nose to nose. Thinking, texting, calling, skyping each other. Sleeping, breathingliving, side by side. Clinging to each other for dear life at every social event. Intense, emotional pillow talks and relentless sexual activity at any. given. moment. (I had sex on my stairs once, in a friends bathroom another (sorry friend - you still don't know this), 'did stuff' on an aeroplane another (A proud 'I have never' claim, I must admit). Completely obsessive, passionate, ridiculous - all the while still feeling like I was in my own little fairytale. I actually still have a diary from 2009 about this phase in my life and I'm pretty sure I'll keep them forever. (I know, vom)

Number one set my standards high from day one. Considering how young we were, he'd always make me feel genuinely looked after during emotional and traumatic times in my life and always seemed to support me. I was cared for and admired relentlessly until the end. However, number one also taught me to recognise the controlling aspect in a relationship, taught me how I should always expect support and encouragement, meanwhile remembering it's not okay to make each other feel bad for spending time with friends, or do things separately - have your own lives etc. In the end I know this is the reason we ended - as a little 20 year old, me and my romantic, curious and most importantly - young heart, just couldn't breath anymore.
Number one taught me - that 'real love' feeling does exist and to never settle for anything less. Taught me to always recognise perhaps, the toxic side of an obsessive relationship and although heart breaking, always know when to leave.


Sometimes I question if I was actually in love with number two. However when I really think about it, he was the classic 'accidental love' you read about in chic flic-y books. I stumbled upon number two while dressed as a cat in a kebab shop. How all good love stories start, am I right? I'm pretty sure he was initially interested in the friend I was with, however a spontaneous trip to his flat to watch films and eat the remains of our late night culinary delicacies - proved other wise. Me and number two hit it off instantly. I was in the 'I'm mother fucking single' stage, where you're all excited to meet, talk to, snog - all of the men. (FYI the thought of that now genuinely turns my stomach.. oh maturity, you're fun.)  Number two was the bubble of fun that needed to enter my life, at that time. We kept it fun, casual and exciting for near enough the entire year we were seeing each other. I look back at this time as the happiest year of my life - still to this day! I was admired but from a distance this time. I was out boozing constantly and getting my first taste of travelling Europe with friends, while spending my down time (mostly hungover) slobbing around a beautiful flat in Clifton and being wined and dined with the central convenience of Just Eat.

I didn't treat number two too well. He was my happy, fun, escapism boy - but ultimately, still my rebound. When things started getting a little more serious than getting pizza in our joggers - for example, meeting parents, hotel stays, 'anniversary' gestures, Facebook announcements - I think I just got a little scared, so ended it. Looking back I just wasn't ready to feel the feelings I felt with number one, with number two - despite all the fun I was having.
Number two taught me that shared laughter, fun and spontaneity are some of the most important qualities to create a wholesome relationship. He taught me that looks or 'type', aren't the be all and end all to the law of attraction (he wore the worst clothes - I'm sure you all know how I felt about that, as a 21 year old blossoming fashionista).


Ahh and here we meet, my first 'Tinder love'. Things with number three probably had the most rapid chain reaction so far. From what I've experienced, both from a personal perspective and also from the outside looking in, Tinder 'relationships' always seem to happen so fast. I feel like due to the nature of the app it self, once you find someone you remotely get on with and find attractive, suddenly you find yourselves holding onto each other for dear life, subtly shoving in everyones face an influx of superficial social media posts - 'LOOK, we found each other, Tinder does work' *insert hundreds of 'boy did good' posts*. The fear of swiping through the next 10k of unsuitable mugs (sorry but, its true), is real - it appears. I had my first 'date' with number three in my local pub and he brought me Sainsbury's cookies because I had mentioned craving them once in one of our online chats. (Cute or creepy, you decide). I fancied number three a hell of a lot. You know the ones that just aesthetically tick a lot of the boxes?

Number three turned out to be an intense version of number one and two combined. It was all a bit much when I actually look back. A boy that seemingly appeared to be besotted with me (he once told me it was like watching a super model go down on him (stop it) and I'm not gunna lie, it's something I hold close to my ego to this day - cheers mate). When in the next breath - my phone was being checked weekly, I was given the cold shoulder treatment for the slightest interaction with other boys (usually an Instagram like for a taken lad I went to uni with, for example) and I was once chucked out of his house during the early hours for not doing what he demanded during a night out. Insecurities were a huge part of this relationship. I was still flying high at this point from my previous 'adoring' relationships I'd seemed to encounter, so my self esteem was sky rocketing. I guess I can kind of  understand how number three may have felt inferior to my some what, sassy persona at the time?
Number three taught me to take things slowly. As temporarily great the sex may be with someone you aesthetically fancy - it never lasts long. Number three taught me not to rush into something just because of the intensity. Head over heart, Love over lust, always wins in the long run.


Number 4, another Tinder find. If I haven't already used the word 'intense' enough, I'm about to use it now. Maybe I'm just an intense person? Maybe this is why I also attract, intense personas. (Is there self help books for this issue?!) I met number 4 during a very sensitive time. I was going through a hell of a lot with my health, that even included hospital stays. Number 4 was like my strangely comforting, cyber buddy. We spoke at all hours, of every day. (I honestly couldn't tell you how we had so much to talk about.) I'd be lying if I didn't say things moved insanely quickly with number 4, also. Just three months into dating number 4, I found myself introducing him to family members, on a flight to Egypt by his side, and dropping the L bomb (literally, wtf mads?). For some reason I just seemed to find instant comfort in number 4. I wanted to spend every moment, of every day, with him - why? I honestly couldn't tell you. I kind of get it now when people say that phrase 'when you know, you know' with out actually really knowing, why? I found myself falling hard and quickly, not really sure what was going on with this crazy heart of mine but embracing it anyway. Then shortly after our Middle Eastern mini break - dumped. Wait, me? Dumped? This came as a huge, huge, emotional shock to me. I had never been dumped before, I was always in the control chair, always the one who decided when enough was enough or I was just 'bored' or didn't quite 'fancy' them anymore. This time I was on the receiving end and I'll be honest, it was awful.

Then the games began. My first on-off relationship that you can read about here. Something I would highly NOT RECOMMEND. Despite the ups and downs, mental health bouts and general emotional trauma (dramatic but true), I endured during this time, I wouldn't change any of it. I've probably learnt the most from number 4. Maybe I was just given a taste of my own medicine? Maybe this is how I'd made all the boys in my life feel previously to now? (Isn't karma a bitch tho?)
Number 4 taught me that there are boys out there that can be deeply caring, thoughtful, loving and kind, however should never be excused for emotional abuse and general bad/disrespectful behaviour. Number 4 taught me to seek that 'winning formula', that equal balance of love, fun, and respect. Number 4 taught me to know what I want and more importantly what I don't. Life lessons come to us in the funniest of ways sometimes and I'm sure, embracing them will only take you higher. 

I'm telling you now. The age of 25 has been the weirdest year for me, I've learnt so much but in quite a sad, depressing and inconvenient way. During my late teens/early 20's I felt as though I was pursued by boys, a lot of the time.. I felt like boys I seemed to meet (not many, btw) - fancied me in some way or I fancied them and things always progressed more than just friends. Meanwhile 2017/18 has provided me with so many more Tinder dates than I'd planned,  so much more 'disappointment' and generally so much #singlelife-ness. I feel like I'm a million miles away from a lot of friends who are engaged, have babies on the way or enduring in a consistent and flourishing relationship. It's a weird feeling when you've always been the 'one with the boyfriend'. However, when I really think about it, am I even ready for all that? I'm still exploring things I like, career options, moving cities, figuring what makes me tick, let alone mixing boys into the equation. Sometimes I think its unfortunate for me that I haven't yet found myself building a home together with a loved one or discussing which washing machine to get or if we're in the right catchment area for schooling - then I remember, theres so much more I want yet - from life in general. Slow and steady wins the race - Something I always try and live by.

Hope you enjoyed the read and hopefully I didn't cause any offence (eek).
Let me know if this is the kind of content you enjoy (I have a tonne more I want to write about including awkward encounters and battling dating apps).
Thanks for reading!!
Madi xo

1 comment:

  1. I loved loved loved everything about this Madi!!! It's got me realising all that I learnt from past relationships/crushes x