It’s taken a long time and a lot of fails to come to this realisation, but maybe it’s something I always knew deep down – I’m happy single. Better off single.

I’ve always liked my own company, never one to seek out others. Relationships make me uncomfortable, yeah cuddles on the sofa are lovely, but having them about 24/7? Telling them everything? Compromise? Maybe I’ve just been single for too long and am too set in my ways, but whatever the reason I’m happy with the outcome.

This is not all to say that if Mr Right walked headfirst into me that I’d send him away again, but I’m not looking, definitely not settling and I shall live my life to the fullest and if I never meet someone I shall die knowing I enjoyed my life and made the right choice.

I’m a strong independent woman.

Atleast that’s what I told myself repeatedly whilst I was in labour to stop myself panicking at the unimaginable pain and the absolute terror that I was about to become a single mum.

And for the most part I am! I can fend for myself, I earn my money, I pay my bills, I look after my son, but there’s that niggle in the back of my mind that I’m not good enough, that I’m not truly independent.

I guess that comes to the fore when I’m in a relationship, I’m fiercely independent, I’ll offer to pay, I’ll not let you do things for me and I’ll complain when you buy me things, but deep down I need constant reassurance that I’m enough.

And that’s part of why I both love and hate relationships. The companionship is great, having someone to share things with, but relying on someone for my happiness? I’m happy when I’m single, but put me in a relationship and I cave into a self doubting monster, and I know why, it’s because I’ve never been enough before; no one has stayed so why should this one? I’m a single mother with a flabby belly who’s idea of fun is watching crap tv with a glass of wine. What a catch. I guess a part of me thinks if I was going to meet someone it would have been before I gained a whole extra list of flaws apart from the obvious personality and bad sense of humour!

Maybe the answer for me is to stay single, to know that I am missing out on a whole other half of life, a life shared, but atleast I won’t have to rely on someone else to constantly reassure me.

I hoped to be writing here in a few months about how happiness is possible, about how men who are willing to take on a single mum and all her baggage do exist, about blended families and trips to the park. But no, once again I’m here, broken and alone wondering which of my many flaws drove this guy away.

Was it my saggy belly, my wonky tits, my sleep-adverse toddler, my bad choice in tv, my questionable sense of humour or just me. Maybe I just drove him away by being me. Who knows. He certainly won’t tell me since he basically won’t reply to anything. I’m guessing it’s his terrible way of breaking up with me painlessly. For him. For me it just makes me question everything. Did he ever even like me in the first place?! It’s perhaps the most painful way to break up with someone, with no reason. It’s happened to me twice in quick succession now and I can tell you my confidence has never been knocked more. If he told me it was because of my wonky tits I could laugh it off, tell my friends and call him shallow. But with no reason forthcoming I am forced to go over it in my own head, and we are our own harshest critics, this means every slight issue I can see with myself if magnified, brought under scrutiny and my confidence lays on the floor in tatters. Again.

It took a lot for me to date after having kids. My body isn’t what it was and emotionally I’m drained most of the time, not to mention the fact that my last serious relationship with my babies dad stole all my confidence in men being able to stick around.

But I did, it ended suddenly 2 months later with ‘we aren’t compatible’ and I tore myself apart, broke myself down to the very components of me trying to work out what I had done, which parts weren’t compatible. Months later I plucked up the courage to try again, but after 6 weeks of what I thought was going well, I’m suddenly ignored, reassured, then ignored again. So here I am again, picking away at the very fibres that make me, me wondering what it was this time that drove him away?

Maybe I’m not strong enough to date. I know it’ll take a while for me to even get back to me again, so maybe I should leave men alone and focus on me again, get back to happy me so I can be there for my son as best I can on my own. Some people are better on their own, maybe that’s me.