LOVE || When Mars Collides with Venus

So its finally happened.

You’ve found a boy who likes your company. Not only does he like your company but he’s came back for a second date and a third, and even a fourth and now you’re spending long periods of time with him. “Hello and Goodbye” dates turn into sleepovers. Sleepovers turn into a sleepover plus the following day. 1 night sleepovers turn into 2 night sleepovers and before you know it you’re spending the majority of your time with a boy. Yak.

When you’ve become used to living on your own and having your own space, these close quarters can create certain problems or throw a spanner into your single girl behaviour. Single girl behaviour, the things we do which we don’t necessarily want men to know that we do, or if they do know that we do it, we don’t want them to be witness to it.

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As much as men may like to believe that the body of the female species only expells puffs of sunshine and glitter, it’s one of those few areas where men and womens bodies work the same. Just because we don’t lift our legs and fart the national anthem or announce that we’re going to the toilet and “we may be some time” it doesn’t mean we don’t do “it”. The problem is when you’re spending time in close proximity to a guy, maybe a couple of days at a time, your usual bowel movements tend to take a bit beating as you try and ignore the usual calls for nature and try to hold off until they’ve left the house. Painful, yes? The uncomfortable desire to break wind? Yes. The possibility that this wind breaking will occur when in a particular position when you’re losing control of your body muscles? Very likely.

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Men know that women wear make up, they’re not THAT stupid. For one, they tend to notice when you return sheepishly from the bathroom as you silently pray that they don’t notice that zit that popped up yesterday after consuming an entire family size bar of Marvellous Creations. That whole “going bare faced for the first few times” is difficult enough without having to apply a full face of makeup infront of your beau. I think that have this idea that makeup has a “one product does all” trick which we apply in the morning to “Christina Hendrick” our face. They don’t quite realise the amount of time it takes, the number of lotions and potions we use and those tricks we’ve picked up along the way to make our face look thinner, our lips more plump and our eyes more wide awake. So to have one of their species sat on the edge of your bed whilst you coyly try to apply your makeup as quickly as possible whilst still managing to look positively radiant is a mean feat.

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 “Would you like to come round to mine, I’ll cook” we say as we plan in our heads an “after work/cooking in the house with perfect makeup” outfit. Inviting a man around for food for equals one thing for me – having to remember that I can actually cook. Since living alone I’ve learnt to make do on the simplest of meals: pasta, jacket potatos, supernoodles and the like.. Not so appealing when we’re told that the way to a mans heart is through his stomach. Some evenings I foresake eating what my mother would call a “proper” meal in favour of a plate of cheese cubes, sliced onion, cherry tomatoes and as many green olives as you can eat before being sick.

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Shaving rash. “Growing out” weeks. If those short phrases make you scowl at the screen as you read then honey, I feel ya. Getting regular nookie is a good thing, its scientifically proven to have a good affect on your mood and its most definitely seen as a work out. The only negative side is ensuring you’re clean shaven and continuing to maintain that silky smooth feeling for every encounter, even if you’ve planned to watch a movie JUST INCASE. Sure, after a few months its okay to become lazy and skip the body hair removal routine in favour of more minutes in the tub watch Dawsons Creek on your tablet but in the first few months? You’ve gotta grin and bear it and make him think you’re fuzz free, along with the lumps and bumps of shaving rash and ingrown hairs. Sexy.

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As much as we’d like to maintain this “50’s housewife” illusion with perfectly clean and sparkling surfaces and a home which is spick and span, reality is quite the opposite. Laundry, dishes and hoovering do not get done by cleaning fairies, ideal as that would be. When you’re spending a significant period of time with a boy its quite likely that you’re going to have to partake in some housework unless you want to become a feature on Kim & Aggys “How Clean Is Your House”. There’s no way of washing dishes, cleaning your dirty smalls or hoovering floor dirt in an alluring manner, believe me, I’ve tried.

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Facial hair maintenance. Hands up if you’ve ever removed hair from your face, and I’m talking about your eyebrows. Well, I have and I’m sure there’s a fair few women reading this who’ve secretly sat with an upper lip covered in hair removal cream, visited a backstreet threader to remove their cheeks of peach fuzz or tweezed at a singular chin whisker. This taboo “DONT LET MEN KNOW THIS” routine combined with the more acceptable eyebrow maintenance isn’t something which requires a male audience.

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I don’t know about you but the first thing I do when I get through the front door after a hard days work is to remove my bra, Bioderma my face and slip into something a little more comfortable. By a little more comfortable I don’t mean a silk neglige and a balcony bra, I mean “last years Christmas PJ bottoms and an oversized Saved By The Bell tshirt I got from Primark for £2 in the sale”. When you’re spending most nights in the company of a new beau, even if you’re just sat in the house watching the TV or eating, the whole “sans le makeup/bra/suitable clothing” isn’t really plausible. Except the bra. Lose the bra at any point during the evening and you’re golden.

Did I miss anything?