Location: London, U.K.
Date of the Date: 14.11.15 (Yes I remember exactly, I know it’s creepy)
OK this is going to be a tough dating scenario to write. Excuse me while I take a swig of tequila…
Cool, I’m good to go.
I am so glad I dated #The One That Broke My Heart. I’m grateful for all the shit feelings that came afterwards. And I’m happy that I came out the other side of this with a smile on my face and a dawning realization of my dating mentality now. So this is a tale that needs to be told…
Powerful. Lots of energy and he walked fast. Someone who’s funny but commands respect and knows how to read the environment to get what they want without compromising.
Roti Chai Street Kitchen in Marble Arch, London. Then we had bubble tea in Bubbleology, Soho. Bubbleology is a special place me and my best mate loved to hang out in, so it took a lot for me to take him to my spot. Both great dating spots.
Everything. I can’t remember exactly what we talked about, but how we talked is crystal clear in my memory. It was so fun – I have never laughed that much on a date, I was in stitches. We used loads of hand gestures, because we were feeding off each other’s excitement. In the restaurant, there was an Indian family sat on the table next to us and it was obvious we were on a date, so to take the piss, we used exaggerated Indian accents and hand gestures.
Later, when we were walking to Bubbleology, the road was slippery and I fell forward and he caught me. It was a fucking fairytale. Then we sat and talked about deep things with genuine expressions on our faces and kissed in the underground before taking different tubes home.
Food and Drink:
Spicy chicken and bubble tea.
A beany hat at first that I joked made him look like Craig David. He looked sharp when he took it off with a nice white top and grey cardigan.
An kickass outfit because I sensed this would be a great date. I even got my hair blow-dried for an impression – it worked. I wore a white over-the-shoulder frilly top and tight black trousers that make my arse look amazing. And my long camel coat which is great for setting the scene.
At the time a 10. My first ever 10. Not sure what to think of it now.
So then what happened?
We continued dating over the next few weeks. It was so good that he started mentioning family and saying stuff like “I could wake up to you forever.” Yeah I know, it’s funny now and I feel pretty emotionless writing this, but it was a friggin’ fairytale then.
Until something happened at his work and a lot of clients started leaving him. He had a high-fly job – this allowed him to have a custom-built Porsche that looked like a batmobile and a walk-in-wardrobe. Anyway, so stuff at his work started to go pear-shaped and he started the long and painful process of ghosting me over 2 months, giving shorter and shorter texts after longer periods of time and the dating was cut short.
I felt myself becoming more and more desperate and hating the whole waiting game. I didn’t blame him for being stressed, because what was happening to him was clearly traumatic and he was a busy guy – but stringing me along after raising my expectations sky-high wasn’t right either. Maybe it wasn’t his fault. But it hurt like a bitch.
Finally, I went to his area without telling him (yeah stalkerish I know). Then I called and said I wanted to talk. His voice cracked as he refused and said he was so anxious that he would breakdown by having to talk and that it was over between us. Yay. That tube ride home was excruciatingly painful and I remember listening to Adele ‘Hello from the other side’ and dramatically crying bucket-loads without giving a fuck who saw.
See, this wasn’t just an ego thing. My instincts had not flagged up any problems with this one whatsoever and I genuinely believed there could be a future and I had hinged all my hopes on this one guy. So I lost a lot of trust in myself and my heart kind of broke.
What did I learn:
Waiting on someone to magically fix my life made me wake up to why I was unhappy with my life in the first place. That was another long process and it started in the pit of depression that began after that breakup. I was unhappy that I hadn’t moved out and done my own thing. I was unhappy that I hadn’t found ‘the one’ after dating for a few years and I was already 25.
The pain and anger really forced me to do something about it and I started vlogging for kids and I got up and started dating again. Then I moved to work in Vietnam. Then I decided to write. Slowly a new mindset began to emerge from under the bullshit. I’m so young and I have my whole life to live – why the hell should I wait on someone to fix me?
Find out more about this mindset in my article on Demystifying the myth of ‘The One’.
I’m not going to credit this entire website concept to #The One That Broke My Heart. That’s not true (and why should I?) But he was one of the many important triggers.
Dating, like travel is a journey and not just a way to catch someone to keep them forever. I am going to live and date and enjoy. Maybe my thoughts will change, but for not they feel healthy and I thank #The One That Broke My Heart for giving me this insight.