I put my face on, took my vitamins, made it to work on time and even managed to digest my mother’s green smoothie all before 9:30 am. You could say I’m adulting pretty fucking hard right now.

My ‘finger me’ playlist (lets discuss that later) kept me company on the tube this morning and had me mulling over shit. You know when you just retreat into yourself and start thinking things, which is pretty rare on London underground because if you’re not getting shoved and poked someone is shouting at you to ‘move down the bloody carriage’.

It wasn’t until late last year that I discovered what situationships were. Now I say discovered, but whilst I knew what it felt like to be in a pseudo-relationship with all the trimmings of uncertainty and eventual heartache, I didn’t know said relationships had a name.

Weaving through the madness that is London, I started to dissect past situationships and how similar they all seemed to be. The initial attraction, the non-stop texting, the flirtatious banter, the warm kisses, and the eventual demise when you start to notice their pointy ears, texts start slow down, banter seems forced and the warm kisses give way to icy silence.

Situationships can bring with them a lot of heartache, especially because you don’t know how to feel. On one hand your friends and/or family tell you to ‘get over it’ because after all what was it? And on the other hand you can’t quite seem to get over it. You’ve invested time, effort and juices into the enterprise and you’re not quite ready for it to end, maybe one party was hoping for more, the other, just to get their ears licked.

Whilst situationships are not always ideal they make for great learning tools in dating. Maybe said situationship partner is not the one but they’ve treated you with lots of respect and care, the demise of the relationship brings with is good vibes, minimal heartache and more importantly, life lessons.

You extract what you can from a situationship and keep it pushing as best as you can. I look back and realise how much I exchanged sex for love in my not so sex positive days especially in my early twenties. The initial stages of romance would fizzle out and I would accept physical intimacy as a consolation, whether it stimulated me or not. I was fucking myself into a relationship whether it was healthy or not.

A lot of people cite the thrill of situationships as one of its appeals. This person is a gamble, it’s exciting. Every time you message, you take a risk, will they respond or not? You wait on tenterhooks and when that eventual ‘sup’ finds its way into your whatsapp you’re suddenly on cloud 9 and then the mystery game of where is this going continues.

I’m living as fearlessly as my anxiety will allow me. I’m finding that a situationship that ultimately isn’t filled with some sort of lesson brought about by genuine exploration of a healthy relationship possibility isn’t one I necessarily want to subscribe to, but this world is a funny one. What I do know is I’m not alone, you’re not alone, sometimes we are the reason for the demise, sometimes we bear the full brunt of the demise. There is no shame in exploration where honesty and not treating each other like shit are the main focus.

Live fearlessly.



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