There are too many negative dating terms lately. I’ve been benched, breadcrumbed, cushioned, ghosted and bloody french toasted more times than I can count at this stage. Ok, so I don’t think french toasted is an actual dating trend term but I’m sure it will be eventually. You heard it here first, folks. Funnily enough, anytime I read about the latest dating trend it seems it is happening to me at this exact moment. Whether he is sending the odd sexual suggestion every few weeks or cancelling every date we plan, when rain begins to fall on blossoming relationships in 2017 you can guarantee that Fenella Fox has been hit by gale force winds, severe floods and a flying trampoline or two.
I can’t keep up with my own hunt for love these days, anytime I start to develop any sort of feelings I feel like I’m going on some deadly expedition with Frodo and that dodgy ring. To be honest, for me the amazing excitement was taken out of dating once I hit man number 7 who told me he didn’t want a relationship and my mum’s “There haven’t been that many, you can still count them on one hand!” logic went down the toilet quicker than my phone on a night out.
For me, love comes with too many limits these days. Unfortunately, my alcohol intake doesn’t though, nor does my cheesy pasta consumption. In more recent years, this little girl’s dream of her wedding dress has definitely morphed into the dream of an outfit for a second date. Actually, even a first date because I don’t know if we can consider spooning with one eyelash hanging off after 3am or vomiting out of his car door as a first date. I’m kidding of course, I don’t vomit while in the presence of potential love interests, only old ones who shook me off a long time ago and I begin to feel lonely after that third shot of tequila sets in and they start to look like a great idea, similarly to the platefuls of cheesy pasta.
I had to change my music taste recently too, I soon realised eighties love isn’t welcome in 2017 so I feel perhaps it is more appropriate to listen to the music from the Conjuring or Insidious instead whenever I start to develop feelings. I mean, you can’t say you’ve been too badly ghosted by a man if you’re being dragged out of bed by the devil, can you? Surely that’s worse? Although sometimes these supernatural forces are less scary than the ghosts from my romantic past and at times I wonder whether I would prefer to be dragged out of bed by the devil rather than happily climb into bed with him.
My nan asked me whether my hair frightens men away, but to be honest, in my dating life the excessive volume of my scrunch dry is the only thing that keeps protecting me from the force of the blow. And as for the ever changing colours? I like to keep them on their toes.
So many people don’t want labels on their dating life, so why do dating trends have so many names? Why do people think it’s normal to have a ghost in their life rather than a boyfriend? Why do I have to scroll through Cosmo anytime my love life goes pear shaped and I need to put a name on what has happened this time? Or more importantly, how can I be told I’ve been benched when I wasn’t even aware I was sitting on it? Why are we allowing men to treat us as subs when it is quite clear we’re wanted out on the field by the real players who have no intentions of playing us at all?
Time to get off this bench and stop the ghost hunting because this woman has got a life to live and dating trends are harder to keep up with than Game of Thrones when you’ve missed the first three seasons. No, don’t bother texting me in six weeks time because all you’ll find is a dusty bench and strands of my old hair colour. Byeeeeeee.
Ok I’m bored and desperate for attention, maybe I’ll just reply the once…