Time is a funny thing, it can create all this distance and not knowing between people, yet you can find something, see something or hear

When you have three twenty-something women sitting around a table, chances are there’s often going to be three twenty-something men to analyse. One is inconsistent

I was certain, so certain that there were many women out there planning weddings to the love of their life, deeply pondering flower choices, while

We stood under a Springtime night sky, frozen in a completely ordinary moment. I looked at him, was I naive to believe this time would

Ex-anxiety, or almost-ex anxiety, anyone relate? Like when you cared about someone so much you have to totally detox your life and social media of

Nothing burdens modern relationships quite like pride. Timing texts, not texting first, choosing when to reply. There are all these cyber waves of uncertainty that

It was a jeans and a nice top type of night, the kind of night that you never have high hopes for so you shave

The absence of Christmas nights out this year has me distraught, many a romantic story have come out of the 12 pubs over the years.

My phone buzzed at 11pm, as I was in bed halfway through a mini quarter-life crisis. “Hey xx” he said. I thought of my mum

We all have a sore spot in love, the place where “Why wasn’t I good enough?” lives and breathes. No doubt this is a question

I gazed out of the window behind him, the rain poured, as it did anytime we met up. It always had a sense of foreboding

I chugged back half of my pink gin and lemonade as I saw him walking outside. “Oh noooo!” I thought. I had no idea where

Will we ever solve the mysteries of modern dating? In a world so social that is lacking real communication, a lot of the time we

Time to talk social media and all things contemporary love. So, are modern men refusing to commit because they’re always waiting for something better? Is

I heard my name muttered as I rooted through my clutch in the pub queue. I knew that voice, lifting my head to confirm my

The question on the mind of single women everywhere: Why do so many men boldly assume we are obsessed with them? Can somebody please clear