Be The Plot Twist

At the start of 2025, I promised myself that I’d do something this year to change my life. Something to shake up the monotony. Something outside my comfort zone. 

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking… It’s April.  

But for 33 years, I’ve lived firmly within a boundary, never straying far from safe. Plus, with ADHD procrastination, and autism routines (no matter how awful those routines are), it’s been a bit of a challenge, so cut me some slack. 

I am a people pleaser. I did everything in my younger years with the hope of making people proud of me, making them happy. Until I didn’t. I dropped out of university, making my then-boyfriend happy, but making my family disappointed. I split up with said boyfriend, making my family happy, and me homeless, jobless and miserable. I found a new, older boyfriend making me happy, but my family wary. I had my first child at 21, suffered from postnatal depression. My boyfriend then had an ‘emotional affair’. And I can hear some of you saying, emotional affair? What’s one of those? Well imagine having a 6-month-old baby and finding out your fella has been having dirty dreams about his coworker… and then discussing them with her, whilst slagging you off saying how miserable you are and how he would love to leave you and be with her etc. But as I said, I’m a people pleaser, so I forgave him. Then I had illnesses to deal with, money problems, blah blah blah. Fast forward 5 years and I’m pregnant again, slipping into the depths of another depression. This time, instead of having an emotional affair, he decided to just be angry with me. It starts out with a grab of the wrist, the odd bit of name calling during an argument and over the course of 4 years, goes downhill It develops into spitting in my face, calling me horrible names, controlling my finances, cutting me off from the people around me, punching, headbutting, sending me messages about wanting me dead, threatening my family. But still, I’m a people pleaser, so I don’t call the police. Until one day, social services come a-knocking.  

I always pegged social services as these people who come in the dead of night, steal your sleeping children from their beds and launch them into a children’s home whilst telling the world you’re the devil incarnate. Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong.  

They walked into my home with fricking halos round their heads and listened to me. Told me they would help me. Told me everything was going to be ok. They made him leave. They set my boys up with support in school and out of school, they referred me to a support agency where I met with other women going through similar things. They put me on a course that opened my eyes to the reality of my 10-year relationship. What I didn’t see, was that even before those last 5 years, there were signs of abuse. And it made me realize that yeah, I had made a lot of mistakes. But if he was so unhappy, he could have left me at any point, but he chose to turn to controlling behaviour and violence, to beat me into submission, to take away my voice.  

So, after they swooped in to put me on the path to a better life, I listened. I still made mistakes on the way, I still almost let him back into my life after a few momentary lapses of judgement. I took time for myself, to understand what I’d been through, to heal my inner child, but I’m out. So, what now? Now that my life is my own to live, what do I do with it? 

For the last few months, every night has been spent in my bedroom, long after my children have gone to bed, watching romcoms and reading books. Watching as the protagonist goes about her daily routine and meets the man of her dreams. Yeah, sometimes they’re clumsy, bumbling and ungainly, but still, I found myself questioning… Am I not good enough to be wanted? Am I really only good as a ‘practice girl’ like my ex said? What do these women have that I don’t?  

Look at Bridget Jones. One of my favourite film series. We grew up believing that Bridget Jones, with her endearing personality, witty one liners, sitting in her granny pants, eating ice cream and drinking wine, was overweight and unlovable. Really? Overweight? Yeah, she’s not falling down the holes in a grid. But overweight? I think that’s a bit of a stretch. So, while I sit there and relate to that wonderful woman, thinking ‘yeah, I’m like her’… I’m really not. Maybe sellotape 3 of her together and were getting closer. But does that mean I’m destined to be even more unlucky in love? Hugh Grant and Colin Firth were some of the hotties of their time, and they both wanted a piece of our dear Bridget!  

Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve got 2 handsome men fighting for my attention daily, but usually it’s because one of them ate the last Cheesestring and the other wanted it, or one of them wants to play Minecraft and the other wants to play Pokémon. (FYI, they’re my kids, I’m not dating a manchild). 

Theres a wealth of romance tropes out there, where the female lead always finds her perfect man. Friends-to-lovers, Enemies-to-lovers, Falling for the Nanny, Falling for the next-door neighbor, boss/employee romances, fake dating and so many others! But they all have that same thing in common. The woman, who goes about her daily routine, and after some bumps and grinds (sometimes literally), ends up meeting the love of her life. Some of these women are thin and beautiful, some curvy and kind, it doesn’t seem to matter. They all get there in the end. So, what about me? When’s my happy ending coming? And that’s where I realized something… The exact place I could POTENTIALLY be going so wrong… 

How do I meet the love of my life, when I have no life? 

Let’s take my daily routine…  

Monday-Friday 

6.45: Wake up. Get the kids up for school. Throw on some concoction of leggings and a hoody and my trusty, beat up old vans. 

7.30: Set off on the school run.  

9.15: Get home. Turn on PC. Grab Coffee. 

9.30: Start Work. 

14.30: Finish work, leg it out the door to pick the kids up. 

16.00: Get home. Get kids changed.  

16.30: Start homework with the kids.  

17.00: Start cooking tea.  

18.00: Feed kids. 

19.00: Bath/Shower kids 

19.30: Get kids into PJs 

19.45: Read a story 

20.00: Youngest goes to bed. Spend time with the eldest. 

21.00: Eldest goes to bed. 

21.15: Shower. 

21.30: Settle to watch a film or series in bed.  

23.30: Absentmindedly swipe through dating profiles. 

23.45: Play some sort of mind-numbing game on my phone because I can’t get to sleep yet. 

00.45-01.30: Check the time and have an internal panic attack at the idea of having to be up in 5-6 hours. 

Saturday 

Spend the ENTIRE day catching up on cleaning and washing for the week while my angelic crotch goblins spend time with their dad. 

Sunday 

Spend the day doing something fun with my kids, iron uniform for school, cook a roast dinner. Then the normal evening routine.  

Now, someone tell me, where in that wonderous outline of my daily routine, could I possibly have a ‘meet-cute’ with the future love of my life? On the school run? No thanks. Over the phone with one of my customers at work? Hell, no. In B&M with my cleaning clothes on and my hair in a messy bun while I pick up toilet bleach and scrubbing brushes? Definitely not.  

And that leads me to this place, and this time, right now. Sitting in my bed at 23.55 on a Thursday night.  

If I want to live my life to the fullest, have the potential of meeting my ‘one’, shake up the monotony, I have to change my life.  

So, I’ve decided to use my wealth of knowledge from watching all the romcoms and reading all the romance novels and take myself way out of my comfort zone. And I thought I’d bring you all along for the ride with me.  

Starting today, I’m going to be changing up my entire daily routine, taking on new hobbies, getting out into the world and really trying to live my life like the main character from my very own romcom. I’m talking about getting into the gym, attempting a ‘glow-up’, singing karaoke, writing books, going to bars, visiting libraries, finding a new job that isn’t home-based, maybe some speed dating, some real-world dates instead of all the modern dating app bullshit. REALLY put myself out there.  

Yeah, I’m still going to have nights when my kids are here and I’m sitting in my comfiest pjs with a tub of salted caramel ice-cream and a glass of echo falls, but I promise to have my laptop on my knee, and I’ll stay in a calorie deficit. And now, I’ve got you nosey gits to keep me accountable.  

I’ll do a blog update once a week on a Sunday. I’m going to tell you more about what I’ve been up to that week, share parts of my past and share my innermost thoughts (Hold tight, this brain’s a rollercoaster!). I’m going to share parts of me and my life on Instagram, threads and eventually, TikTok. (You’ll have to bear with me though, I’m 33 remember. I may have been a wizard on MSN messenger, but times have changed.) 

I’m going to share some of my life with you, in the hopes that it will inspire you to reach out of your comfort zones too. Even just a tiny bit. And please, whether it’s on the website or on social media, please reach out and share your lives, hopes, dreams or experiences. I want to know you’re there! If you feel comfortable with me including some of those stories in my rambles and overshares, let me know! 

So please, come and join me on my journey. Let’s switch up the narrative, lets rewrite the script, and maybe we could actually be the plot twist.  

Love ya! x