What are we?

As the digital age takes a firm hold, it seems it has become more and more difficult to define our relationships. A hundred years ago, a man and woman would be either; friends, afianced, married or illicit lovers. Fifty years on and we could throw in courting. Now, we can be friends, friends with benefits, dating, lovers, fuck buddies, an affair, afianced, married, separated, divorced. The list is endless!

Were all of these relationship statuses non-existent before? Or have we moved with the times and now just feel the need to define everything? Why do women feel the need to analyse every single detail so we can label what we’re doing with a guy? Can’t we just go with the flow and enjoy the ride? Do we feel the need to define our relationships, so that we can set boundaries, in order not to get hurt?

To have a turmoil-free relationship, do we need to know where we're going? I've been caught in that trap a few times - I've wanted a relationship but the guy just wanted something casual. However, if the guy had communicated that to me at the beginning, I could have made a decision whether I wanted to knob him off or risk developing feelings for him, knowing all he desired was a casual relationship. At least if I did go with the latter, I'd only have myself to blame when the pain and heartache ensued.

On the other hand, guys nearly always assume a girl is looking for a serious relationship and so even though I'm not at this point in my life, I seem to be kept at arms length. Look at S and Mr. A.P for example; both of whom seem to think I want something more than they're offering. But truth be told, I don't. I just enjoy hanging out with them and seeing what happens, but maybe I'm not making that clear?

I don't want a committed relationship with either of them because I don't think they're necessarily 100% right for me, but do I need to spell that out to them? And would they even believe me, or are guys programmed to think all girls are after a relationship that will end up in a suburban semi, spending their weekends deciding which nappies to buy, whilst the wife is busy preparing meat and two veg for dinner?

Maybe it's the guys that struggle to go with the flow? Perhaps they need us to define what kind of relationship we're having before they decide whether to back off or not? But what do I define it as? If you're friends who enjoy the occasional mutual benefit, what are you? Friends with benefits? Lovers? Fuck buddies? What are the differences between the three anyway? Does everyone have different definitions? 

What if there are interim periods where neither of us are seeing/sleeping with anyone else, does that mean we're in a relationship or is a relationship solely defined by a mutual desire to be in one? Do definitions help us realise when we're in a transitional period between the different relationship statuses? After all, don't both parties need to be travelling along the same path?

Whatever happens with either S or Mr. A.P, and whatever it's labelled as, I think there's a lot of fun to be had that can make single life that little bit more exciting, particularly when Dubai's dating scene is as dry as the city's summer months.  As long as honest feelings are communicated, I think we can just roll with it and enjoy.

So maybe that's how we can define a definition; a modern day way of communicating...

Tis the season to be jolly

That's right, the season has arrived where it's all about the dresses, champagne and beautiful decorations. No, I'm not talking about Christmas, I'm talking about weddings. And last weekend saw me attend my first wedding of the season...

Drama Queen had been planning her wedding for weeks, months even. Everyone in the office had heard the painstaking phone calls to her father, mother, fiancé and hotel about the dress, cake, food, colour co-ordination and every other tiny detail that makes a wedding day. So to say we were all expecting a knockout wedding would be an understatement.

In anticipation of Drama Queen's spectacular wedding, just as the bride wanted, all the girls planned their perfect wedding outfits, accessories, hair, manicures and pedicures. Let it be known, it's no easy feat being a woman in the naughties, let alone with the added pressure of preparing for, what would probably be, the wedding of the year.

The dress I picked out was a demure, 50's style number. Ivory with black stripes on the skirt, it was perfect wedding attendance material. With the dress, I donned my favourite pair of black sky-high heels and made my way to the hotel to meet my colleagues for warm-up cocktails at one of Dubai's trendiest bars.

Everyone looked picture perfect, but of course we would, we were under the scrutiny of some of Dubai's best looking people. (For those of you who don't know, a Palestinian/Lebanese union is one of unprecedented style and beauty. For both the women, and the men.)

The wedding, as expected, was nothing short of stunning, and all those agonising phone calls Drama Queen had made over the past few weeks had obviously paid off. We all waited for the bride to enter with bated breath, and so when we were ushered to the bottom of the stairs, we knew the tears were imminent.

As the Arabian drummers made their way down the stairs, behind them, they revealed the happy couple. It was most definitely a sight for sore eyes. Drama Queen was less drama and all queen — absolutely beautiful, not that any one of us expected anything less. And as the couple made their way down the stairs, guests snapped photos and shed a few happy tears. Myself included.

After all the perfect people had been sitting at the perfectly decorated tables, observing the perfect couple, my colleagues and I decided to head to the bar. As we made our way up the marble bridal stairs, we joked they would do someone some serious damage. Little did I know that someone would be me.

As I took a step up, I suddenly felt a searing pain. I hopped to the side and took off my shoe. There it was; my perfectly manicured foot, covered in blood and missing a big toenail. As my blood dripped down the stairs, I felt faint but my main concern was about ruining the party.

My colleagues gathered around and ushered me into one of their cars to take me to hospital. I'm not going to lie, it wasn't a pleasant trip, but we were at the Iranian hospital so it really should have been expected. With us in our party dresses and them in their abayas, it was a little embarrassing to say the least. And just to crank up the embarrassment factor a notch, I was shoved in a wheelchair. Was this karma biting me in the ass? Was losing a toenail not enough? Evidently not.

After the unbearable, pain-inducing poking and prodding from the doctor and nurse, I was sent on my merry way. Naturally, we went straight back to the wedding, and on the journey there, to distract me from the pain, my colleagues and I belted out Mariah Carey's All I want for Christmas at full blast. It worked, I was distracted for a full three minutes and forty-four seconds. Ok, ok, I had to look that up on my iTunes!

Back at the wedding, I spied my departed toenail on the stairs. I couldn't bring myself to pick it up, and so I left it for the cleaners. After all, it wouldn't be Drama Queen's wedding sans the drama, and so I felt happy to have left my mark of drama, right there on the stairs.

Despite the unbearable pain in my foot, I pulled myself together to throw some shapes on the dance floor with the bride. As I did so, I took a good look around and saw so much happiness and wondered what it was about marriage, aside from the fabulous party, that was so joyous.

Why is it we feel we need marriage to validate our relationships? Let's not sugar-coat it, it's easier than ever to obtain a divorce these days, so there's much less of a commitment to marriage anyway. But then I thought of my perfect relationship and how, in the distant future, I'd probably want to marry my perfect boyfriend. I'm not sure why though; is it just the next logical step, is it for the future kids, or is it security? Perhaps it's even insecurity? But the need to be potentially tied to someone for eternity seems a little drastic, does it not?

Whatever the reason, most girls dream of it from a young age. I mean, Barbie has Ken, Minnie has Mickey (mouse is their surname, right?) and Cinderella has Prince Charming. It's drummed into us girls that marriage is the right step from the age of three, so why would we reject it? Men, on the other hand, are read stories about super-heroes who save the world from destruction, and play with toys like cars and meccano. Is it any wonder that we think women are from Venus and men are from Mars when we're brought up to value totally different things?

Maybe I should consider writing a children's book about the successful career woman who earned so much money that she bought her own jet to fly to her private island where everything was at her disposal — men, food, shoes, handbags... you name it. But then why does that story seem incomplete without her being whisked off her feet by some loveable hunk?

As a single woman in Dubai, are we just enduring the footloose and fancy-free lifestyle, in the hope of bumping into The One along the way, or are we genuinely embracing our freedom? Does even the most cynical woman really just want to settle down? Perhaps she's only a cynic towards marriage because she's not yet met her match?

Well, whatever the reason is for getting hitched, I hope it's the right one and we'll all live happily ever after.

The Friendly Face

It's always strange when you hear your ex is over you and back on the dating scene, but for me, it was even stranger. Or should that be familiar? That's right, I've heard reports that X is back on the dating scene... with my friends.

I'm not overly bothered by it, as he's not seeing close friends of mine, but I still find it weird for some reason. One of the girls is someone I work with and have mutual friends with, the other is a little closer to me as I've known her five years. She and I worked together in London before I moved to Dubai. We used to go out as a big group of girls but she's no Little Miss LC to me.

There is something, deep down, that does make me feel a little nauseous though. I'm not sure if I'm concerned what the girls will think of X, thus reflecting on me, whether it's what X will think of the girls, or if I just can't bear the thought of X having sex when I'm not.

It's not like I want him to hold back on dating until I'm ready to settle down and find a man of my own, so why does it make me feel odd? Do all girls feel this way after a break up? Is it a race between you and your ex to reach coupledom smugness? Or is it just Dubai and the way you can't sneeze without the entire community knowing about it?

Are we that deprived of choice in this city that we feel the need to recycle friends' cast-offs? And why do I feel weird about this but organising a 'one girl's trash is another girl's treasure' singles party is fine? Did my ties with X run deeper than I originally thought when we broke up? Or is it that neither of them have mentioned anything to me?

I have no intention of getting back with X , the feeling's just not there anymore, but are girls not supposed to have a little chat about it first? You know, check there are no hard feelings there. I mean, I could still be hung up on the guy. I'm not, but I could have been. 

At the end of the day, I don't mind if they're together. After all, X and I broke up five months ago, I ended with him and I've moved on since then. I guess I just didn't want to hear it from someone else.

Anyway, I wish them both the best of luck, they're both lovely people and probably far better suited than X and I ever were. But I've made a note to myself not to date a friend's ex before I've had a little chat with her about it first. It's just the courteous thing to do.

Single Satisfaction

Despite the announcement of several engagements and pregnancies this year, I still have a number of fabulous, single girlfriends. They’re the kind of girls that are probably a bit too comfortable being single – independent and strong-minded. Saying that, every girl loves a bit of attention, doesn’t she?

So, amidst all the uncertainty surrounding Mr. A.P, I decided to host a singles dinner. The concept was simple – invite all my single girlfriends in Dubai to dinner, get each one of them to bring a single guy friend, meet at a restaurant with a set price all-you-can-eat-and-drink and let carnage ensue. I was hoping the night might appease some of my single girlfriends’ appetites… In the run up to the dinner, some of my girlfriends moaned how they knew of no eligible bachelors to bring. At first I couldn’t believe that such intelligent, gorgeous and outgoing women didn’t know any eligible men but then I realized that I’d have struggled if my only option hadn’t said yes. Were Dubai’s men really that bad?

There was no need to worry in the end, as like true troopers, they pulled it out of the bag. Although, admittedly, a couple of them had scraped the barrell! But as it was a pilot run, we’ll gloss over that on this occasion.

On the night, eight girls and eight guys turned up at the bar for pre-dinner drinks, in hope of finding their Romeo or Juliet. It was an optimistic thought, but everyone was so curious about how the night would turn out, it didn’t matter. But, as the hostess, there were moments where I felt a little awkward and wished I’d planned it better.

Dinner went well, and people automatically adopted the boy-girl-boy-girl seating plan, which saved us all from the embarrassment of having place-cards that I’d not made! Everyone chatted amongst themselves and there were no issues with the bill, which was an absolute God-send.

Some people dwindled off home but those who wanted to continue the party went on to one of Dubai’s swanky cocktail bars. I left everyone to their own devices and chatted to the eligible bachelor I’d brought along… S.

After a few too many Cosmopolitans, I talked at him about the Mr. A.P situation. Yes, I know… again! He listened though, and he didn’t complain, which was very sweet. In the end, after God knows how long I’d been rambling on about it for, S said he had to go. We hugged goodnight, but it was one of those hugs that went on for just a little bit longer than it should have. Next thing I knew, we were kissing.

At that moment in time, all sorts of things went through my mind - namely visions of bare skin and bed sheets. The visions didn’t materialise, and I can honestly say I’m glad they didn’t. It would have been way too easy. This story has been dragged out for over two years, if it’s going to be done at all; it’s going to be done well.

You know what, here I am; two guys I know I shouldn’t be attracted to, both of whom are telling me they don’t want it, yet things just keep on happening. Could it be that I’m actually enjoying playing this game? Could it be that I don’t want them either? I know they’re both emotionally unavailable, so why would I keep going there unless I’m emotionally unavailable too?

Am I pressured by friends and family into feeling that I want a relationship when really I don’t want one at all? Do I want to conform to society’s expectations of finding a man with whom I should have a monogamous relationship with, or do I want to rebel…?

I know the answer; it’s you that needs to work it out.

Cleudo

Life... it's full of complications. Complications that can sometimes cause more drama than you care for. Drama that forces you to make a decision. The consequences of that decision can often affect others, and it's those consequences that play a big part in the resolution.

This week I had to make a small decision because of, what I think could have been, exaggerated consequences. After much thought and confusion, I have decided to let the idea of Mr. A.P and I drop. It's not a decision I took lightly, particularly after our last encounter, but I feel it's the right one, for now at least.

I didn't want to make a choice but, unfortunately, that's what happens when others are involved. Particularly when the others are your closest friends. As another friend said to me recently, I should put chicks before dicks. But little did she know of the decision I'd already made in my mind to please my friend. The sacrifice may seem small, but to me it's a big deal. In fact, if I'm honest, it makes me miserable. I shall explain...

I received a number of responses to my last blog post; some telling me to go for it with Mr. A.P, some to wait and see what happens and one to knock it on the head. The latter seemed to cause some controversy amongst the rest of my girlfriends. I know they all have my best interests at heart, but they also have very different opinions on the matter. However, what concerns me most is that the friend, who told me to knock it on the head, knows Mr. A.P and painted a very different picture of how he felt in comparison to what he and I concluded ourselves.

After some very frank conversation, or at least so I thought, with Mr. A.P during our night together, we established that we do like each other. We're obviously also attracted to one another, but agreed we would just remain friends (with the occasional benefit) due to his obsession. I understood that and accepted it. We weren't closing the door, we were just leaving it ajar and I was very comfortable with that. In any case, I wouldn't want it to happen overnight. As I've said before, I prefer it when the excitement of whether or not it will happen is dragged out.

My good friend, however, is insistent this isn't the case. She's so sure that Mr. A.P is disinterested that I've been asked never to speak of him again. Obviously, for the purpose of the blog, I can't totally commit to that, but I have made a conscious effort not to mention his name in her presence.

So, how is my friend so sure that Mr. A.P isn't interested? Well, apparently he most definitely didn't want to spend the evening alone with me and scrabbled around, inviting people over to his place, before my arrival. Clearly, he had little success. In fact, when I called him before I left my office, I gave him the perfect opportunity to decline my company for the evening. He didn't. I believe his words were "I'd appreciate the company". 

My friend also mentioned that Mr. A.P had received a text from his obsession saying she knew he was involved with someone but she loved him and hoped their time would come. Obviously a text like that is provoking and leaves no room for me in his mind. I simply can't compete with it.

With those things in mind, I wondered why Mr. A.P had told me he liked me if that wasn't the case. Was he just trying to tell me what I wanted to hear? Or did he genuinely feel that way? After much thought about it, I decided to call Mr. A.P to give him the chance to be honest with me. 

During the call, I started by telling him that I wasn't disillusioned by the situation and that I take it for all it is right now, and that's a bit of fun. I went on to tell him I just wanted to be honest and clear about my thoughts and that I hoped he would be with me too. He replied by saying he thought we had an honest conversation on Sunday. There it was, his chance to get out of it, but again, he didn't seem to want to.

But what's the explanation for all of this? Could it be that Mr. A.P is putting on a facade, not letting on to anyone else that there is something between us? But then again, why? He knows all our mutual friends would hear the truth from me, surely? Is this just a very bad miscommunication? Who's wrong? Who's right?

In the meantime, I told my friend not to worry about protecting me. Yes, I like Mr. A.P but I don't like him enough to cry any tears over him. Just as it happened with S, I'd be gutted for a day or two, blog about it and move on. It's not really in my nature to be depressed, I'm far too happy-go-lucky for that and I'm in absolutely no rush to jump into a serious relationship anyway. I just enjoy hanging out with him and reaping some of those benefits!

Anyway, earlier this week, my friend and I had made plans go to the movies. Before I left to meet her she told me Mr. A.P had asked what were up to and if I'd mind if he came along. Of course I didn't mind. After all, we are friends and I'd still not established any true disinterest from him. 

Only a minute after my friend had asked me if I was fine with Mr. A.P coming along, he called me to aske me what was going through my head. I didn't have a clue what he was talking about. Then he asked why I had an issue with him going to the movies. I still wondered what the hell he was on about, I mean we are still friends, so why would I be bothered? Then those horrible words came out of his mouth... "Do you mind if we just knock this whole thing on the head?"

My jaw dropped. I wouldn't have been so shocked had he not used that particular phrase but, as soon as he said it, I knew something wasn't right. That was the phrase I'd used in my last blog post when considering how I should handle things with him. It was also the phrase the girls used on my facebook page (which I deleted before he saw). Could it be that it was just a big coincidence? 

I didn't argue. If that's what he wanted, then fine. But then he went on to say how "other people" kept saying things to him about the situation. Not that I really saw it as a situation, although perhaps it is now, but I wondered who the "other people" Mr. A.P spoke of were. And what had they been saying? What was going on here?

Mr. A.P came to the movies with us that evening, although I couldn't bring myself to ask him what the phone call was all about. In fact, we barely spoke the entire night. I couldn't even look at him because I was still trying to figure it all out in my head. How had he come to that decision, despite everything we'd talked about? It was totally unexpected. All I knew was it definitely wasn't him saying those things on the phone to me. So who was?

When I arrived home that evening, I text Mr. A.P saying that I had a feeling that he'd made a decision he didn't really want to make. He didn't reply, but then again I wasn't expecting him to. 

To be honest, I wouldn't mind if the decision had been his, I wouldn't even question it. But I knew this didn't add up and I wanted to know what was going on. Had someone said something about me? Had someone convinced him he was doing the wrong thing? What the fuck was happening here? I needed to get to the bottom of this...

The next day, I was chatting to a colleague of mine who happens to be friends with Mr A.P's obsession. I wondered if it had been Mr. A.P's obsession dictating to him to finish up what was going on between us? I questioned my colleague about her, but I'm assured she's far too loved up to interfere with Mr. A.P's love life. And she's also too loved-up to jeopardise her current relationship by stringing Mr. A.P along anymore.

But hang on a minute, didn't Mr. A.P's obsession text him saying she loved him? I posed the question to my colleague who just couldn't see it... Now I was certain something was up, as for what it was, I had no idea. But rest assured, I am going to get to the bottom of this!!

Stick, twist or bust?

Let it be known that, when it comes to dating, I am a complete masochist. I continually torment myself by trying to work out if a guy I’m into is into me, and if he is will anything ever happen between us. I’m a total glutton for punishment.

To be frank, I think underneath all the agonising, I secretly enjoy the drama of it all. I love waiting and watching it all unfold. Every touch, every kiss… it’s like I’ve been blindfolded and my senses have been heightened. Everything that happens is magnified a hundred times because I’m just so eager to know. To know if he likes me the way I like him. To know if he desires me the way I desire him…

The other night, all those feelings reached fever pitch and I was running on a high. After not having seen Mr A.P for two weeks, I so desperately needed a fix. So when I received an invite round to his new place, I knew I had to take it.

To be honest, I was surprised to receive the invitation in the first place. Only a day or two earlier Little Miss LC had mentioned that Mr. A.P had never made the effort to make any plans with me, and that it was a bit pathetic should he actually like me. She was right, and I almost resigned myself to the fact that it just wasn’t happening. But lo and behold, as if he’d heard our conversation, up pops the invitation to his new pad.

After my previous blog about what constitutes a date, I wondered if this was one. I needed to check and so posed the question to a few of my male friends, most of whom confirmed that it was, indeed, a date. You can imagine my delight. I’d been waiting for this for almost four months and the moment had finally arrived!

Over the few days leading up to the date, some of my friends tried to bring me down to Earth by telling me it wasn’t a date, and that there may be other people there. For a moment, I considered not going. But in my heart of hearts, I knew it was a date. After so many texts between myself and Mr. A.P over the past couple of months, I knew well enough that, if it wasn’t a one-on-one, he’d have made reference to inviting other people.

Sure enough, when I arrived at Mr. A.P’s place, it was just me and him. As we sat by the pool, listening to music, drinking wine and having one of our conversations where time stands still, I wondered how the evening would go. Would we both be too chicken-shit to make a move? Would he spurn my advances? Or would we end up in a state of romantic ecstasy?

As the evening progressed, our inhibitions dwindled (thank you alcohol)! I laid my cards on the table. I told Mr. A.P I liked him. I didn’t need to say anymore, he knew exactly what I meant. I braced myself for the inevitable let down but it never came. Instead, he took me by surprise and told me he liked me too.

That was it. Now I knew. I didn’t need to analyse anything anymore, I’d heard it from the horse’s mouth and that was all I needed. I didn’t need to ask anyone for their opinion and I didn’t need to work out what happened that night. It was black and white. There were still hurdles but, esentially, there’s a mutual attraction.

We moved from the patio table to the pool, and I think we both knew what would happen at that point. The playful splashing led to dunking, the dunking led to kissing, the kissing led to… well, I'll leave that to your imagination. It was perfect. Eveything I hoped it would be and more.

Ahh, the kissing. So soft yet still so passionate. They're all consuming and take me far away, out of this world. Picture this; in the pool, my legs are around his waist, his hands on my back and neck, I cup his face and run my fingers through his hair whilst the water lapped around us. It felt like I was in a movie scene but better – it was real.

When we woke up the next morning, we snuggled skin-on-skin. On a regular day, I stress about making it to the office on time but, that day, I couldn’t have cared less. I was so content I could have easily stayed there, in his arms, all day. I can’t put how I felt into words, no words would do it justice.

As the day went on, my state of bliss subsided. I think my friends were so used to giving me their opinions, that I didn’t even need to ask them this time round. Thing is, on this occasion, I didn’t want to hear any opinions. I don’t care if I’m going to get hurt. I don’t care if he’s only after what he can get. I just don’t care about any of that. Let me momentarily bask in this state of bliss. Let me reap all the feel-good factors before you bring me down. Let me fantasise about what could be, lose myself in the reverie, drift ethereally…

Back to reality and I do have to question Mr A.P’s motives. He may well like me, but if he doesn’t know what he wants i.e. me, then I’m not sure I can wait to find out. At the moment, he’s in a win-win situation as I’ve not been the primary reason for our meetings. Aside, perhaps, from the last one. I, on the other hand, am pining after him. Every time I see him or someone mentions his name I get butterflies in my stomach.

So, do I suck it up and wait? Do I make an effort to see him again one-on-one? Do I knock it on the head? Or do I bang my head against a brick wall?

Answers are appreciated but please be gentle.