It would appear that all the worldly advice I have been offered over the past couple of years is, rather annoyingly, accurate.  That it is only when one is happy in oneself and one's own skin, that one truly becomes an interesting package for others to unwrap.  Or so, in my need to poof up my self-esteem, I have come to believe.

Despite the recent raft of odd dates and the strange bumping into the ex-heart-breaker, I am surprisingly feeling at one with myself.  Those who know me well, appreciate the level to which I struggle with 'me' (especially when a close friend tells me that I look better 'bigger' -OH. MY . GOD.  It's a miracle quite frankly that I only indulged in a packet of 10 naughty sticks).  Yet, interestingly, I am feeling happier with life, myself and almost with work, than ever before.   

Oh sure, I still feel the endless insecurities about the size of my stomach, gas bill, alcohol intake etc, yet I am beginning to feel a freedom away from these rules.  Yet that is very scary - where is one without the boundaries that one has developed?  Without the 11 years plus of relationships that have shaped one's existence?

I hope to let you know.  Three dates with three different chaps (if I can curtail my middle-aged spread) may provide me with a level of insight.  If not, some material at least for a few entries here - hopefully of a suitably, and much needed, saucy nature!