Confessions Book

I'd been single for eight months, and my dating life was about as exciting as a damp tea towel. Then I met a gorgeous man called James on Hinge. Tall, handsome, lovely smile, and, most importantly, he could spell "definitely." Naturally, I was ready to marry him. After a particularly flirty evening of messages, I decided to send him a little surprise the following morning. Nothing too scandalous. Just a photograph of me in some rather expensive lingerie with the caption: "Fancy coming round and…

I need to confess something. Last summer, I was bridesmaid to a woman who made Miranda Priestly look like a relaxed yoga instructor. Let's call her Charlotte. Charlotte had been my friend since university, but the moment she got engaged, she transformed into a dictatorship wearing a £4,000 wedding dress. We had mandatory bridesmaid meetings. Mandatory. Like we were preparing for a military invasion rather than watching a woman marry a man who still says "amazeballs" without irony. She demanded we lose weight, banned fake…

I've been with my boyfriend for two years, and until last Sunday, his mother thought I was a lovely, sensible girl who enjoys baking and occasionally volunteers at charity shops. I do neither of those things. What I do enjoy, however, is a little bit of bedroom creativity. Nothing outrageous. Just the occasional outfit, some handcuffs, and a playlist that makes me feel like a very enthusiastic contestant on *Love Island After Dark*. Anyway, last Sunday we had his parents over for lunch. I'd made…

Right. Before anyone starts clutching their pearls, let me explain. My ex-boyfriend, let's call him Josh, was an absolute waste of a perfectly functioning penis. Three years together. Three years of him treating foreplay like an optional software update and believing that putting the bins out once a fortnight made him husband material. Anyway, we split up after I discovered he'd been sending pictures of his little soldier to a woman from his gym. Not even good pictures. The lighting was criminal. Fast-forward six months…