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Well I’ve got no love life updates whatsoever I’m afraid. I told Corey to Fuck off when he last messaged me and he seems to have done as he was told. I have not yet succumbed to the raging sexual frustration and desperate need for male attention that I am currently feeling and so I haven’t contacted Fuckboy Kieron, or any other ex Fuckboys or head guys for that matter, which is what I was contemplating when I wrote the last blog. I’m doing very well. I’m just playing with myself a lot and hoping to combat it that way.

The problem with masturbation is that I always have to think about an event which has actually taken place. I can’t just think of Drake giving me more life (although that thought has crossed my mind), it doesn’t work, I have to relive a real scenario. The only problem with that is that it makes me start thinking about the other participant in that scenario and leads me closer to sending a ‘Hey stranger’ Whats App.

Only momentarily though, like mid wank when it’s taking ages and I start to lose focus a bit, but once I’ve cum that’s it. Back to feeling like I’m a strong independent woman and I don’t need no man, especially none of those already tried and tested fuckers in the wank bank. The thought of them makes me feel sick once I’ve cum and I always feel thankful that they’re not there laying next to me after. I cannot tell you how important it is to masturbate before you make any decision to link anyone based on horniness. It clears your head and brings you back to reality. It’s one of the most important anti-fuckboy tools.

I’m jokingly complaining about the massive dick drought a lot on insta but in reality it’s quite nice being completely and utterly single (to the point where I don’t even have anyone who I would want to drunk text) because life is just very undramatic and peaceful. It’s quite liberating. I’m enjoying being single now, but I also don’t want it to last forever. Currently I am contentedly single because I am completely sure of the fact that I will meet someone when the time is right, I’m not panicking, there’s no need. None of us are going to be single for the next 50 years, I can say that with 100% certainty. I’ll put money on it. If you are single and reading this in 2017 and you remain single until 2067, get in touch and I’ll give you Fifty quid (and a hug). The Universe has got my back, and yours. You just have to learn how to work with it.

I talk a lot about the Universe, positive thinking, and The Law of Attraction. Some readers may think its airy fairy bullshit, but it’s what I believe in because it makes sense to me. I stay happy because of it which is not always easy because shit happens, I’m human and I get down, anxious, and angry about things, but it has given me the ability to recognise when I’m going down a negative path and it has given me clear solutions for how to get myself back on to a happy one. I didn’t always think like this. I was much more angry and negative before, that was my default position. Learning about The Law of Attraction has changed my entire life because it has changed my way of thinking. I’ll tell you how I came to it.

In the summer of 2014 I was still getting over Mark/Martin. I had gone back on to Tinder but I was still fragile and untrusting of men. Mark/Martin had completely deceived me, he lied about everything from his name and age to the fact that he was in a relationship with his Baby Mum. I was left feeling highly suspicious of all men, I told several of them on Tinder that I would only meet up with them if they would bring ID. I wasn’t joking. We didn’t meet. I was tentatively Tindering but I probably shouldn’t have been because I still wasn’t ready. I’d also had a terrible experience with Marcus who I met shortly after things ended with Mark/Martin, he ghosted on me completely on New Years Eve. It was awful.

I went on to Tinder because I was needy for male attention. I didn’t want to be single. I felt lonely and unwanted. I’d constantly question what was wrong with me, I’d harp on to my friends about being confused about why guys keep treating me like shit when I’m such a good person, I hated all men and thought that they were all highly untrustworthy cunts, but I’d feel like shit if none of those untrustworthy cunts were paying me attention. I’d post desperate looking selfies on Instagram and I wouldn’t be satisfied until certain people liked them, that’s what made me feel validated. Getting matches with hot men on Tinder boosted my ego, not getting matches filled me with anxiety about which of my pictures had put them off (although I would just like to point out that the non-matches were rare).

One day I got excited when I matched with a seemingly decent guy named Kane. Kane was mixed race (do I even need to say that anymore? I think you know by now) born to a Jamaican Dad and Irish Mum. He was 6ft 5 with a broad and powerful body. Amazing shoulder to waist ratio. He was solid looking but lean, and he was swaggy with it. He dressed well, he had great teeth, and he looked like he was a fun guy, out there travelling, partying, festivaling with friends; his lifestyle and social circle looked similar to mine.

I’m not entirely clear about what he did for a living, something to do with installing some kind of electrical units, I don’t know, I didn’t really care. Kane showered me with compliments and our Tinder conversation flowed easily. His face was a 4, his body was a 9.5 and his personality was a 6. I was a bit desperate back then and I could definitely work with those numbers. Now I wouldn’t settle for anything less than a 9.5 personality, but I was going to make it work regardless, he lived fairly close, and he seemed interested in me and so it didn’t matter whether he was my soul mate. I thought my love life was looking up.

We took the step from Tinder to What’s App and it quickly became one of those ones where you are messaging each other from morning until night, progressive flowing conversations that get you hooked. I love a good flirt. My Tinder scrolling became less frequent and conversations with other guys that I had been messaging started trailing off and fizzling out because I was taking longer to reply, and anyone who was not Kane was annoying me when they were messaging me simply because they weren’t Kane. Kane was very consistent at messaging though and I felt sure that he was equally as into the idea of me as I was into him.

We are both weed smokers and so when he invited me to smoke a joint at the top of Primrose Hill on a hot July night for our first date I was more than happy to accept. He picked me up in his VW Golf and we drove down there together. Kane looked exactly the same in real life as he did in his pictures, which is always a relief with on line first dates. He had the most beautiful side profile which was pretty much all I could see during the car journey (it was pretty much all you could see in most of his pictures too), he had a really strong chiselled jaw and high cheek bones, he was sexy. The car journey went well and I felt butterflies in my stomach and my fanny.

When we stepped out of the car I felt a pang of dread. I hadn’t notice whilst we were driving but he was wearing black combat trousers with purposeful rips down the front of each leg, like slashed skinny jeans but in combat style. He had on big white and red Jordans (I really hate Jordans on men, I think they look like orthopaedic moon boots for disabled astronauts) a white t-shirt and a Khaki green bomber jacket with motifs, like a Paul’s Boutique man Jacket, fucking yuck. I was not feeling this outfit at all, and from front on I really wasn’t feeling his face either. I’d only really seen his profile in the car and now that we were out I was alarmed to see that from front on his face and head looked really large, like Skeletor from He-Man. His clothes were absolutely disastrous and I could only bear to look at him from the side. I was a bit disappointed.

We got on well though, there was chemistry, and I told myself that I could get over the fashion faux pas and the big face (although I did start feeling concerned that if we had a baby it’s head might ruin my vagina). Kane and I stayed out for hours, laying on the grass under the stars, smoking, flirting, making each other laugh and occasionally kissing. I love nights like those. Roll on summer. When the night came to a close he took me home, when he pulled up outside my house he asked if he could come in for a coffee and I told him that I thought it would be too tempting if he came in. I was still horny from the gropes in the park and I think it’s just too easy to get carried away once you’re indoors together.

I didn’t want to have sex with him on the first date, my vagina did, but I didn’t. If you invite a man into your house, or you go to his, after a date, or for the actual date, then even if you tell him that nothing is going to happen, he will be compelled to try because you’ve presented him with a challenge, and men love a challenge. Inviting him into your house is a bad idea if you genuinely don’t want things to get to sexual, because they inevitably will. Things can start to get complicated. If he tries it and you reject his advances and bruise his ego then the balance goes off and you’ve potentially wrecked something good, he really shouldn’t be trying it when you’ve stated that that’s not want you invited him round for, but Fuckboys don’t listen to your words. They can’t hear what you are saying, they work off actions and as far as a Fuckboy is concerned, an invite into your house is an invite into your knickers. Date in public until you know you’re ready for sex.

Kane reassured me that he liked me and he accepted why I didn’t want him to come in, he told me he really liked me and he held my hand. He had a tattoo on his hand, 3 letters. When I noticed it I became immediately suspicious. Kane reluctantly explained that when he was a teenager he had been in a gang and that the tatt was the gang’s initials. He said that it had been many years ago and that he had been meaning to get it removed. I didn’t question it any further. Kane and I arranged to see each other the following Saturday and we carried on messaging frequently after the date.

I was hooked. He wasn’t my soul mate and our connection was probably only surface level purely based on lust and chemistry, but back then I just wanted a boyfriend, any boyfriend really, just someone who could make me feel wanted and give me attention. I hadn’t told my friends about him yet but I really felt excited about Kane and I couldn’t keep it to myself. I may sound like an absolute weirdo when I say this but I used to feel like telling my friends about a man was like a jinx. Things would be going great and then bam, I’d tell the girls and within days things would go badly wrong but I was at the point where I couldn’t hold my mouth about Kane any longer and I reminded myself that telling my friend’s is quite clearly not the reason why all my relationships go wrong. I was so excited and so sure that Kane was going to be a biggie in my life, I knew that telling them wouldn’t ruin it. The girls told me not to get carried away.

The next two dates went well. We went for dinner and to the Zoo. It was all good, we stayed in regular communication and on the 4th date I decided to invite Kane over to mine. He had talked a good talk about giving really good massages and I was ready for that kind of night with him. Slow jams, candles, a few drinks, cream (not baby oil because it takes off the fake tan), a back massage that leads to a batty massage and beyond. I really need that kind of night right now. Needless to say, we had fun. He was very very good at massages, and he had a very nice penis. You know those really smooth baby soft skinned ones, really fresh, clean, and hard. Honestly, I am actually going to have to stop reminiscing on this because I just realised that as I’m typing I’m biting my bottom lip and grinding my hips like an endangered panda who’s just found some bamboo.

Basically, it went all went very well. Wonderfully in fact. We fell asleep after but he had to leave at 4am because he had work at 6am and needed to get home to change. I was kind of cool with that but also I thought hmmmm, all men are cunts (I don’t think this now FYI), maybe he’s got to get home before his girlfriend wakes up. Anyway, I remained cool and he messaged me when he got to work telling me how much he had enjoyed it and I told him that I felt the same. The messages carried on throughout the day. I was buzzing. At 10pm he messaged me to tell me that he was exhausted and had a headache, he said he was going to bed and would message me in the morning. He didn’t.

He didn’t message me the whole next day. At which point my inner psycho began to emerge. What the fuck was going on? I went into the group chat to tell them I was freaking out, these bitches probably jinxed it again I thought to myself. They told me to chill out, they told me to message him, they said that if he’s into me then a message won’t put him off, if he’s not then a message isn’t going to do any damage because he doesn’t like me anyway.

That logic makes sense. But I never want to be that annoying suffocating woman who messages a man who is not interested. I hate how it feels when men do it to me. So I just remained in a state of ongoing anxiety, frequent phone checking and re-reading messages to see if I could pick up on any signs of where it went wrong for 48 hours until I heard from him again. It was weird and horrible and I regretted sleeping with him. We were at that stage I had thought, I was ready. I liked him, I felt like I trusted him, I wanted to sleep with him, but now I wondered if that had been the reason why he had gone off me. Because surely, if you’re talking to a man intensely on What’s App right up until the day after you first sleep together then that must mean that he’s lost interest in you post-sex, probably because’s he’s got what he came for, or because he’s got a girlfriend and he’s suddenly feeling immense guilt. There’s no other explanations. Normal people carry on communicating as normal after sex if they like someone, if not more.

Anyway, the panic was over at 10pm the following night and he messaged me apologising for not being in touch, he said he’d been mad busy, battery died, stayed at his Brother’s after a wedding, blah blah blah. He was flirting outrageously and saying that he missed me, and so all the feelings of anxiety, doubt and anger disappeared sooner than he could say ‘You have the best looking pussy I’ve ever seen in my life’. I’m sure he probably says that to all the girls, but I really think that pussy compliments are the one. Nothing makes me feel sexier. If he compliments my crotch in great detail I’ll pretty much forgive a man for any misdemeanour because I’ll be compelled to provide him with her company so that he can show his appreciation.

And so we met up again. Another house date, at mine because he lived with his Nan. I forgot to mention that bit but it’s actually quite crucial. A 35 year old man living with his Nan is an unlikely scenario unless he has some kind of caring role for her (if it’s for that reason then he’s a keeper because men who look after the women in their families are usually good men). But if it’s not that, then why are you living with your Nan? Why are you not flat sharing, or whatever, at 35 with no kids and a decent job, what is the reasoning behind this? If a man lives with his Nan, a house which of course you cannot visit, then I think that you should ask some more questions. Because quite often he doesn’t really live with his Nan, he lives with his Mrs or some girl who thinks she’s his Mrs. Either way, Nan’s house is a frequent cover up location for Fuckboys. And if it’s not a cover up and they really are living with Nan (not as a carer or for any other really good reason) then they are Wastemen, so do your investigations please.

Our second night of passion went well, but once again, after messaging me a bit the next morning, he ghosted again for another 24 hours. This kind of behaviour provokes so much anxiety and negative energy. We were at that awkward stage where you don’t quite know what you are yet and so there is no official obligation for him to message me consistently and reply within a reasonable time, but if he’s not doing that then why not? Because by this point I was thinking about him a lot, I messaged back consistently because I wanted to, clearly he did not feel the same. The confusing part for me was that when we were together he showered me with compliments, he made me believe that he liked me. I realised that it was all just his elaborate way to secure my vagina so he could have it when he wanted it, but I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just say that, why lead me up the garden path?

It was time for some investigations to begin. We were friends on Instagram but not Facebook. I never share my FB with men because I feel like it’s a bit more personal. I’m more political on there and I mainly post pictures of my son. I searched for his name but nothing came up. I knew that he had a Facebook, you have to in order to use Tinder. So I looked through all the comments from people he interacted with on Instagram and I looked for the ones who had full names so that I could search for them on Facebook. It wasn’t long before I found his brother (he was wayyyy hotter and now I can never date him, pissed), and through his brother I found Kane, or at least a guy who looked just like Kane.

Perhaps it was a twin he hadn’t told me about though I thought, because this guy had a completely different first name. His name was Luke, same surname. This guy also had recent holiday pictures from a romantic trip to Prague, even though he was on his own in all the pics, I knew it was romantic because when I went into the girl’s page who had commented on a pic about how wonderful their trip had been (during that period when he hadn’t got in touch) all her pictures had him in them. I was in full on single white female mode now and so I decided to put his name into google where there were even further surprises in store for me. From google I discovered that Lukane had been released from prison last year after serving a 5 year sentence for and armed robbery with his gang. They had shot at an ice-cream van during a failed attempt at robbing a Securicor guard. Why do I always date criminals who can’t even do crime properly? Whatever you do you should try to do it well.

So Kane the single man who lives with his Nan was really Luke the engaged gang banger who lives with his fiancée. I sat there shaking, heart pounding, tense as fuck while I discovered all the evidence when he called me. He sounded angry and asked why I had poked him on Facebook (fucking typical that I accidentally poke a man while I’m stalking him) I asked him why he had lied about his name and marital status and I told him that I had seen his girlfriend’s page. He said:

‘Oi, don’t try to take the heat off yourself, why are you trying to put the heat on me when you haven’t explained why you are on Facebook stalking my friend’s and family’s pictures? That girl is an old friend, she is not my Mrs but yet you’re straight down my throat giving me accusations instead of calmly asking me who she is. But more importantly, why are you even going on her page? That’s fucked behaviour Layla. I didn’t expect that from you.’

Manipulative Mother Fucker. I told him that it still doesn’t explain why he lied about his name. That was a huge disrespect in my mind. It was humiliating. I had let him inside of me while calling him the wrong name. And I didn’t fuck him lightly, I had thought about it, I fucked the person who he pretended to be in the context of the relationship he pretended to want. He fucked me over. It’s not a very nice thing to do to someone. It’s drastically dodgy behaviour. I should have just blocked him right there, in fact I should have blocked him all those weeks ago when I saw his crazy outfit and big face, but I didn’t, I stayed arguing with him on the phone for an hour trying to explain to him how mad his point was, and trying to persuade him to understand mine. In the end I just gave up. I wasn’t going to get the truth anyway.

I’d caught him red handed and even then, this narcissist firmly argued his completely ridiculous defence until I just couldn’t be bothered anymore and I put down the phone and blocked him on everything. I cried so hard, not just about LuKane but also about Mark/Martin (same damn thing near enough), and Marcus (a different situation but still a similar theme) and I felt sorry for myself. I sobbed for the poor lost girl I was, and I wondered what I was putting out there on Tinder that was attracting all these pathological liars. My mate Darren says it’s simply by being on Tinder, he truly believes that all men are pricks on there. He says that sex and blow jobs are so readily available on Tinder that men would be crazy to settle down. That’s another reason in the long list of why I deleted it.

I felt such deep despair, like, I must be a really flawed character for this stuff to keep happening me to me. I rang Grace and told her what had happened, she’s the best person to speak to when you are sad. She calmed me down and told me that she was going to send me something that I should listen to. It was this:

Abraham Hicks – How to find the perfect man

I rolled a joint and sat back. Initially the women speaking annoyed me, but when I got with what they were saying it really hit me. Something huge really clicked in me and it shifted my whole thought process from the constant beating of a negative drum to the banging of a happy one. It made me realise that what I was putting out is what I was getting back. I was focusing on my loneliness and the need for a man to repair my feelings of inadequacy, but yet I didn’t particularly like men. My whole view of relationships was coming from a ‘lack of’ perspective. I was attracting negativity by being negative. I was constantly worrying that all men had girlfriends and so I was attracting men with girlfriends. I manifested it.

I’m going to give you a break now because long blogs can be hard work, and also because I want you to listen to that link if you get the time, because it explains the concept far better than I can and it might have the effect on you that it did on me. If you do choose to listen to it, take your time, hear what she is saying. It’s very relevant and it shows you how you can apply positive thinking to all aspects of your life. I realise that it might not be for everyone but it resonates strongly with me. So have a listen if you want to and in a couple of days I’ll come back with part 2 about my journey into understanding The Law of Attraction and the men, the money and the other good things that came into my life as a result.