And They All Lived Happily Ever After....

Romantic novels. I challenge a household in the UK not to have one gathering dust on the shelves. From Jane Austen to Helen Fielding, centuries of women have read about the plight of the heroine in finding the love of her life. But are these books lulling us into a false sense of security? Are we doomed to fail because we believe that regardless of our behaviour, a man will look past that and sweep us off our feet?

Now, despite my sometimes cynical demeanour, I am actually one of lifes romantics. From an early age I was engrossed in the fairytale Cinderella, playing it on my own for hours (big ahhhh). This is where it starts - as children we are programmed to believe that our Prince Charming is out there, and it gets worse as we get older. I'm now aware that if I'm working hard, unable to go to a party, the chance of someone appearing out of thin air, to kit me out in a knock out outfit, is about as likely as waking up and finding I've dropped 14 pounds, and I'm married to Gerard Butler. And what were they on when they wrote about mice turning into foot men?! What type of crazy shit were they smoking?

But rom coms, albeit film or book, do teach us that if we live the following way, we will succeed:

1) You firstly need to have a personal tragedy. Loosing your dead end job, whilst being dumped, and being kicked out of your flat is normally the start. Don't worry, you won't end up in the dole queue, wearing a Primark tracksuit and shopping at Aldi where you will fight over a pallet of cabbages. In a few months, it will all be fine. Read on.

2) You then have to travel to your best friends. She will have a rather perfect set up - normally you need one with a spare room, who lives either in a cute remote village (where the locals will laugh at your high heels, when they all wear wellies) or LA. Don't ask me why, it always seems to be one or the other. In my case I'd be living 2 mins from where I do now, or New Zealand... a long way to go with no visa, but I do love an Antipodean.

3) You will then accidentally land a job you're not qualified for, that will lead you to meeting an irritating, but good looking, moody, brooding guy. You will dislike him, and embarrass yourself in front of him the first time you meet. This may involve flashing your knickers, falling over, getting mistaken for a stripper, or you have one eyebrow, a Celine Dion tattoo, and he's steering the boat you've just woken up on. The more bizarre the meeting the better. (Get in - in my case this is the best bit - I am a master of dick head behaviour). He will also be known as the local stud, and the one all women want, but no one ever gets.

4)There may also be another man - he will be either a reliable Robin with a Labrador and serious nature, or a complete tool who woes you with wine and a 007 type seduction, leading to him then ignoring you after sex. This man is a mere hurdle to get with brooding fit man....

5) ....who by now you will have shared a few smiles with, whilst reminding yourself he is mean and laughed at your tattoo. You'll get stuck together or he will save you - normally in the rain, and you'll nearly kiss. You'll have done something stupid again to get stuck...you are a fool after all. You won't get a cold or flu, but will look fucking minging. He will loan you a jumper. You'll have a cup of tea in his condo / cottage (depending on initial best friend location). You may at this point accidentally have sex.

6) But then, you're ex, or one of the other men (lab man or 007) will spring up and confuse things....a secret will come out....you're past as a financially inept, line dancing champ, with a penchant for Danish midgets, all comes out. Oh the shame. You run, but to where? You've already run to the mate with the spare room. You're fooked. Aldi here you come.

7) But, what it is this on the horizon? Do I see Mr brooding man? Yes! He is on a horse (well, normally driving a vintage car - we live in modern times) and is coming to tell you that despite the line dancing; midget obsession; the fact you've accidentally nearly bankrupted his business (his clients will actually think you're sweet), and that whenever you turn your back on him, Celine stares rather scarily at him, he loves you. As Coldplay once sung, "I will love you for your mistakes". You kiss, you say something witty. You all live happily ever after.

So what do we learn from this? Fuck up your life, which you won't like much anyway, bugger off to impose on a mate with a spare room, and piss off the local women by snapping up the only single man for miles. Oh, and to do so, you have to act like a stupid child, and make loads of mistakes that on a normal day, would make you want to smack a person if they did the same.

And volia! You have your man.

Am I the only one, who thinks maybe, just maybe, we need to snap out of this?! I've been acting like a dick head for years now, and I am sat here, single, with my cat, watching Coronation Street. I'm not saying it will never happen, but false hope is no friend of the single girl. We need to make our own life, and luck, and let a man fit into that when we are ready, and not when our book tells us.

I'll leave you with this fact. Barbara Cartland (RIP), the greatest romantic novelist of our time. 723 books. She lived to 98. She was married for only 5 of those 98 years, and despite the odd rumour, had no life partner. We all believe in our happily ever after, we should all have hope, but we should all write our own future.

(Mine will be dropping 14 pounds, and obviously marrying Gerard Butler....I just have to get pissed in front of him, fall over and flash my pants first. Anyone got a best friend who lives in LA with a spare room?).