Honestly, I have lost all faith in my ability to pick a good man. Six years after my divorce, I have dipped in and out of the dating scene and it has not gone very well. The sane, solvent, savvy men I date all transform into needy chaps who want to be rescued as soon as I fall for them. There was the charismatic American who turned out to be an alcoholic with mummy issues; a man who confessed bankruptcy and suggested moving into my house after a month; and a university lecturer, who, after a truly lovestruck start, began to say things like, ‘I don’t know who I am any more,’ the moment I bravely told him that I really liked him.
Is it me? ‘Yes, it is you,’ said my bossy best friend. ‘The only thing that these relationships have in common is you.’ I need professional guidance...