A “European Carrie Bradshaw” is one of the ways I promised and sold The Bridge, only to ramble about current affairs and breaks. So this Valentines, I couldn’t help but wonder… is it time to fix this? (Mum, Dad et al, you can stop reading now x)
Despite “love” being an integral part of my personal image, I have been quite shy when it comes to writing about it and have always felt some shame in truly admitting my fascination with love. I’ve worried about undermining myself by talking about love as it is so often weaponised against women in particular, quickly dismissed and tarred by the dreaded “emotional” label.
Yet love universally governs and perplexes us all. As it constantly evolves, it continues to evade us and the more we love, the less we know about it. On my own quest to learn love, I’ve filled my physical bookshelf with brilliant writers - bell hooks, Alain De Botton, Annie Lord, Dolly Alderton, Shon Faye and online one with Emma Louise Boynton and Emily Mendham, all to name just a few. I also love seeing how seamlessly many women I admire can weave love with seemingly juxtaposing topics such as Moya Lothian McLean and Ash Sarkar in “If I Speak” podcast and Gina Martin’s Substack.
So with this funky disclaimer and sprinkle of recommendations done, let’s begin with some of my many thoughts on love.
Hey Google, play All the Lovers by Kylie Minogue.
If I allow myself to be completely honest. I love love! I’m a lover girl who loves seeing love, I love watching my nearest and dearest find love, I love being in love, reading about love, learning about love, questioning love. I find our shame and shyness around it amusing and in attempt to address this, I strongly advocate calling any romantic encounters “lovers” (regardless of their “seriousness”). My lovers are neatly organised and labelled by distinguishing feature, nationality or embarrassing attribute - names they will never learn. It fills me with joy to watch people squirm as I recall my list of lovers and try and decipher who I am actually talking about.
In addition to a literal lover girl, I’m the queen of independence (a title both self appointed and externally anointed). I love taking myself out for solo dates, travelling alone, going to concerts by myself, living alone - you name it and I’ve done it. Since independence is often seen as so synonymous with single, single has also long been my brand. Both are my areas of expertise and badges of honour I proudly wear.
In spite of being the face of single/independence for many years, this Valentines Day may be the first where I have genuinely been happy to be alone. Now this isn’t a piece where I desperately try to prove how FINE I am about being single and how much I LOVE MYSELF (though reading it back, it kinda is). I find the self love notion overcompensatory (even if the core message rings true) and despise the general hopeless narrative around being single. I hate the sympathy and pity that being single carries. I hate the overtime work we have to do to convince people that we are happy being single. And as much as I love to be the entertainer, I hate the constant need for my love life to be the source of entertainment.
The Valentines Day ride
I’ve gone through my fair share of emotions with Valentines Day. My chronically single status and looming insecurities in my adolescent and tweenage years resulted in many ‘Galentines’ fuelled by a forceful need to prove that I didn’t need love. Realising how incredible my friends were, I soon came to embrace the day as a celebration of platonic love and enjoyed honouring this. Even when showered in Valentines roses, I tried to honour my single heritage and illegally included my boyfriend in the Galentines plan (yes I’m so sorry, I was that person). Finally last year’s pre-Valentines Day break up naturally made me allergic to any mere mention of love and physically repulse to the many adorning social media posts. Fast forward (one hell of) a year and I’m embracing the celebration of love in all its forms.
This year’s Valentines was spent sneaking Cava and chocolate cake into the new Bridget Jones film - a perfect cliché on all fronts. It was one of the rare occasions that I turned off my usual critical brain and allowed myself to fully indulge. Like many young women growing up in the UK, Bridget Jones has been a life long staple and has shaped my approach to love (I think this tells you everything you need to know about my dating style). Closing the final Bridget chapter had me reflecting on the shifts I’ve noticed recently when it comes to my own views on love leading me to the point of being happy alone this Valentines.
Bridget the bridge (my best segue yet)
I’ve always enjoyed my own company yet I’ve really mastered it lately. For example, I opted to welcome in 2025 alone which would previously have instilled fear in me despite my strong independent woman facade. This shift comes after seeing myself through some dark times of complete isolation where I realised how to truly value my own company and that of others and to be more intentional with both. Thanks to the one million concurrent thoughts and constant commentary in my brain, I have a great time alone and get too comfortable doing so. In recognition of this, I have actively engaged more with building communities such as the writer’s collective I’m currently sitting in silence while writing this alongside at a Write Along. Ironically, through spending less time alone, I believe I levelled up my ability to be alone. Wild!
Another shift I’ve noticed is my attitude towards other people’s love. Thanks to the trope of the cynical single and wave of hypercriticism (referencing red flag/dump him/crusty boyfriend behaviour vibes), I always felt compelled to be incredibly defensive or painfully woeful about love when single. I struggled to find a peaceful middle ground. Over the past year in particular, I’ve had many moments of loving love (#welovelove) by seeing many close friends find partners who bring them joy and the usual cynic in me seems to have disappeared. I’m able to #holdspace for love without it triggering any internal allergic reactions.
A potential reason for my shift is my mission to de-centre romantic love. Yes she’s that cliché!! The live laugh love Facebook Mom in me always has the Sex and the City quote about being each other’s soulmates in my head. This mission has been made significantly easier thanks to how full of love my life is. Blessed with the most beautiful friends and an ability to find great people wherever I go and actively putting time into nurturing these relationships means the unattainable pedestal I placed romantic love suddenly shrunk. Don’t get me wrong, this is so much easier said than done and I regularly have my moments of needing validation… which is where the lovers come in to hand.
Relationship status: lovingly single, open to lovers upon appointment
So with love accepted and shifts shifted, I’m embracing a new relationship status this year. After all, fully embracing my single (featuring lovers) life is actually an important act of feminist rebellion. For all the girlies before me who could only dream of living life in the heart of Europe and bopping around the world with international lovers, it is simply my utmost feminist duty to love love in all its forms (and acquire many lovers). Happy Valentines to one and all <3
Until next time,
G x
PS. @Bumble @Tinder (although you rudely banned me) @Hinge - hit me up if you want to work on a lovers campaign x