Last August, one super sunny Sunday afternoon, I went out to a local makers market with the intention of having a lovely time, seeing some friends and making some impulse purchases. I did all of that and skipped home, congratulating myself on a good day of spending money I didn’t have, only to be met with a horribly deflated feeling.

I don’t mean to sound like a self-congratulatory dick, but I’m lucky enough to have a lot of friends. I have to pinch myself some days. My support network is vast, beautiful, and life-giving. But in this weird moment of solitude, in my empty house, I realised just how alone I was, and it was terrifying. I don’t mean that I’d suddenly noticed I was single, or that I’d only just realised I didn’t have any plans for the rest of the afternoon. I mean, I realised that this is my life. There isn’t a person to come home to. There isn’t a person to meet up with later on. There’s nobody to suggest we go out for dinner, to the beach, or for a walk. And it’s been this way for years. I don’t have another half.

I don’t know why it suddenly hit me, maybe because I’d been so happy moments before, just having a normal Sunday, and then found myself at a loose end; all my pals coupled up, at the coast, at festivals, on holiday, or just doing their own coupley things. But hit me it did, and that is when I found myself slumped on my cat’s bed, weeping uncontrollably, and wondering just how it had come to this.

I had two choices at that moment: I could wallow in self-pity, allow it to consume me, and drink through it, or I could turn my situation into something constructive, something which would help me feel more positive about being alone. What I did was choose both, and that is how you come to be reading this. Though you may wonder why it took so long; that was the drinking through it part.

I’m under no illusion that I’m the first single girl in her thirties ever, it’s just that I don’t feel like we talk about it enough. There are memes, sure there are memes! Memes for days about being single. They allow us to brave-face it and laugh and it feels good for a minute. But Jesus Christ, does anyone talk about when you wake up alone at 4am and review every single failed relationship you’ve ever had and wonder if you’ll ever know love again, sending you spiralling into an anxiety attack so severe that you need to put on an episode of Jonathan Creek just to feel some semblance of comfort? Not so much.

In my quest for love/dating/companionship/just a goddamn fuck (sorry mother), I have used every single dating app available, and whilst I have been on some alright dates, and made some bloody good pals, the majority of the messages I receive are either abusive or sexually explicit messages from men, (and I will go into this in more depth throughout the course of this blog) that just make me want to give up dating altogether. No, ‘bigstiffy69’, I don’t want to suck your dry ass balls just now, and why would you think that’s a good opener?

So what I would like to do is make a space where we can talk about the highs and lows of singledom, online dating, the heartache, the loneliness, and the mental health issues that come with being on your own, and normalise these things. We can comfort each other, share our stories, empower each other, and hopefully have a bloody good old laugh along the way.

For a long time now, I’ve been sharing my dating app shockers with my friends on social media and the feedback I’ve had is what has really prompted me to start this blog, it’s been an idea for a long time. I am a mixture of seething with anger, heartbroken, and creased up at some of the messages I get, and it’s really time to share it in the name of healing. I’m not a writer, or a life advice coach, I am a struggling 32 year old woman who needs to share this shit with someone – but as I don’t have a someone, I’ve chosen everyone.

I hope you don’t hate it. I hope it helps you. I hope it makes you smile. And I hope we’ll be OK.

Much Love, your gal Chip xoxox