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Tag: anxious attachment style

This is a companion piece to the last post I wrote about the 10 Things I Learned From Being Single For 10 Years. Because you can’t talk about being single without discussing sex… 1. The desire for sex is always there… Sex—reproductive urges aside—is a basic human need, just like shelter, food, safety. Maslow was onto something with his hierarchy thing. Humans are sexual beings. There’s no getting away from that, even when you are single. Coupled up people will tell you that they don’t really get that much sex… well, at least not as much as when they first

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If you haven’t read Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 of The Ex-Files you should. It will give you some context as to why I’m taking this self-indulgent trip down memory lane. John John has the dubious honour of being the most good looking man I have ever had a relationship with, and the man who did my head in almost as much as the Italian. I met him when Tessa was four, almost five. I was still teaching—and it was early on in my teaching career—so it must have been around 1998. I would have been 34 or 35. I

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If you haven’t read Part 1 and Part 2 of The Ex-Files you should. It will give you some context as to why I’m taking this self-indulgent trip down memory lane. Terry While I didn’t have a relationship with Terry per se, mainly because his “taken” status precluded it, I saw him on and off while I was at university. I had met him a few years before—in my active social life phase, which, coincidentally, did not stop once I once I hit the hallowed halls of Adelaide University. Back then, I fancied myself as a bit of an eight-ball

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If you haven’t read Part 1 of The Ex-Files you should. It will give you some context as to why I’m taking this self-indulgent trip down memory lane. Nick I met Nick one night when I went out on my own, something I rarely did, even in my risk-embracing early 20s. I had moved to Adelaide from Naracoorte by this time—having been transferred by the bank for which I worked—and after one disastrous short-term house-sharing experience with a would-be biker, I ended up moving with my sister into an old  bungalow in Prospect. The bungalow was a half a house

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In my last post, I raved about Attached, and how, because of this book, I feel more in control of my love life than I ever have in my 30 odd years of dealing with boys and men. I feel that I can make better, more informed choices about potential partners. I don’t feel so buffeted about by the vicarious winds of romance that have always had a tendency to blow me into stormy waters, then off course into some strange land where I didn’t know the language or understand the customs. Having no compass or map for charting my

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(And I’ve read so many…) Y’all have been reading this blog for a while. Y’all know that I’ve had such miserable and painful experiences in the love and relationships department that I decided to bow out, throw in the towel and resign myself to the fact that I am doomed to walk this planet alone. But what if I told you I have read a book that has literally made me rethink my I Am Doomed to Be Single Forever And Will Just Be A Crazy Cat Lady relationship status? That I am not crazy-mad-stupid for how I have previously tackled

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