Genuinely if someone had told me at the beginning of the year that I would be ending 2021 in a relationship with a wonderful, kind and caring man, engaged, and planning our wedding, I would have laughed in their face. It was absolutely not on my radar whatsoever.

I may have dreamed of being married again one day, but I didn’t actually believe it would happen. And certainly not so soon. In answer to those who are concerned that we haven’t known each other long enough, I present my young-widow-stock-answer; ‘Life’s too short’. End of. We’re so not getting any younger, and life has dealt us both a good dose of challenging times, so it’s definitely time for us to be happy.

And I so am. When friends are messaging me, or commenting on my Facebook posts, telling me how happy/contented/relaxed/alive I look, it can’t be ignored. I mean I know it myself, but apparently so do my friends. And that means a lot to me. Because just sometimes, thanks to my mental health issues, I can doubt myself.

Anyway, back tracking to the beginning of the year. I was less than three months post the man named Dave. I was still desperate to keep communication open with him. I guess I still hoped he’d realise what he was missing by refusing to commit me. Yeah right. I see now that his commitment issues were totally about him and nothing to do with me. Although I did kind of know that back then, I still contemplated the possibility that if I was different, better in some way, he wouldn’t keep using me when it suited him and dropping me like a stone when it didn’t. I finally burned my bridges when I called him out for gaslighting me. I was immediately blocked and I’ve never heard from him since.

Going into spring and early summer I wholeheartedly threw myself back into online dating. I discovered most guys didn’t actually want to date me. Especially when they discovered I had been a swinger for a time. To my shame I had another series of casual encounters (though each promised the earth, obviously) in the hope that someone would see there was more to me. But it wasn’t happening.

It was in July Martin and I connected. I had already arranged a date with someone else when we had begun chatting. I told him, during my encounter with said someone else that he should forget about me, I wasn’t worth it, he deserved someone of superior moral fibre. He refused to be put off. We met for tea, coffee and cake a couple of days later (one of our absolute favourite pastimes) and we’ve been enjoying cake dates ever since.

I’m not certain, but it was probably love at first conversation. There was a genuine sense of ease about our interaction. It was like coming home. When I shared my story with him, he wept over me. I know he’s disgruntled, maybe angry, about the way Dave treated me. He is not afraid to voice that opinion, the truth as I now know it to be; Dave used me and messed with my head. He fears Dave still has a hold over me. He doesn’t. I’m not about to pass up a loving relationship for being manipulated by Dave and used, not just by him, but by whoever he decides. Makes me shudder to think I believed that was better than being alone. Eurgh.

I think it was the train crash that sealed our fates. A sense of realisation that actually things could have been so much worse brought life into focus particularly clearly. For the first week I stayed with Martin near constantly. Simply put, there was nowhere else on earth I would have been when he was so distraught. I think it was towards the end of that week he proposed to me. He’d had a couple of drinks, so I was hesitant. But he was utterly serious, even when sober.

So we have booked a venue and are beginning to plan our wedding. I am beyond happy. The only thing saddening me currently is Martin’s low self esteem and bursts of self deprecation. I know it’s down to the depression and PTSD he’s suffering as a result of the crash, but it’s heartbreaking that he can’t see the wonderful man he truly is. The man I see. The man I love and would give anything to make happy.

Weirdly, my self esteem is currently ok. It wavers still at times, but I think there’s a lot to be said for being loved right. My photoshoot also definitely boosted my confidence. I’ve surprisingly survived another year of Covid times, without becoming too depressed, although I have to say, my anxiety isn’t great. Socialising, busy places, meeting new people, making calls, travel, have all proved more difficult this year.

And then there was the call from the GP to warn me I’m borderline for type 2 diabetes. The online course I’ve been put on really isn’t great. Different facilitators, conflicting information, and the obligatory couple of participants who like the sound of their own voices a little too much. I’m trying to be a bit healthier. I have lost 8.1kg since that call came, which given I have to be careful about dieting because of previous eating issues, plus I have a limited capacity to walk, let alone exercise, I’m quite proud about.

But I mean I’m here. I’m still standing (just not for too long ideally). I’m in love. Engaged. Organising a wedding. Happy. A little more confident. A little less obese. I have plenty to be thankful for. I’m looking forward to Christmas with my person. The first Christmas in 13 years that I’ve been in a relationship. It feels very different. Very positive. Life’s good.

Happy Christmas all 👼🏻