Written by Harriet Dyer


It’s not me, it’s you

A relationship which makes Harriet Dyer utterly happy to be herself has brought the succession of moronic dunderheads she previously let into her life into sharp focus.

Illustration by Louise Boulter.

Like many of us I’ve had more catastrophic ‘relationships’ than you can wang a dog at.

I use the ol’ quotation marks because looking back, they weren’t even relationships. They were quick tornadoes of lust and overthinking that uprooted farms and sent many a cow on a round the world trip.

Of course at the time, there was no doubt in my mind that they were relationships; fuck a duck they were so intense. Although I don’t think said intensity was helped by my mental health issues (there was a lot of mania).

I was far too trusting and just wanted to be loved (who doesn’t?!). So, when I unknowingly mastered the skill of finding the biggest bullshitters in all the land, I went on to fully buy into the whole initial ‘woo!’ stage hoopla, before finding myself confused when all the niceness stopped. This usually coincided with them getting what they wanted.

Being a comedian may be considered quite an alpha job I guess. It’s definitely threatening to some, as I’ve previously been told, “But I’m used to being the funny one.”

Another guy I was seeing would constantly try to put my job down, telling me how it was easy, and how more important and tiring his work was. Mate, I couldn’t give a shit. Once to show me how simple it was to be a standup, he pretended he was onstage, chatting to the front row. This basically consisted of him telling the “ladies” that if they didn’t laugh at him they must be lesbians. Classic.

This was the same guy who once noticed my bipolar medication by my bedside, and asked if me taking it meant I’d kill him in the night. My response was, “If you keep talking, quite possibly.”

In one way or another, everyone I’ve been out with has led to me not being myself anymore. I used to always think, “Oh no, if I’d have just been more myself, then they would’ve worked out.” Hell no Harriet, you buffoon! You weren’t yourself because they absolutely weren’t right for you. In fact, were you high?

“I always went for folk who would make me think they were too good for me. Now I’m no longer entangled in such bullshit and mind games, I just feel sad for them.”

Some of the greatest hits were the guy who slept with my best friend: both were separately telling me my paranoia was based on childhood issues and drinking. What a pair.

Then there were the TWO GUYS that were at least 15 years older than they said. I thought it strange that one of these veterans had his 32nd birthday two years on the trot. Said guy also had a girlfriend I didn’t know about, until she one day came up to me and punched me in the face while I was at work.

Maybe I was high.

Looking back, at most points throughout all of this, I don’t think I was anywhere near the right frame of mind to be dating. I always went for folk who made me feel they were too good for me. Now I’m no longer entangled in such bullshit and mind games, I just feel sad for them.

These days, I’m in a relationship that’s made me recognise and analyse all the others for what they were.

This one’s great and positive, who’d of thunk there could be such a ting? I’d never write in black and white for the whole world to see, or be one of those social media oversharers who’s all, “He’s not only my boyfriend; he’s my soulmate”, but if I was, I definitely would.

I’d resigned myself to a singleton life (fairly dramatic as I’m hardly Old Woman River), but you know what – I was OK with that. Overall, I didn’t really know any different. But now, ooh blimey, it’s just great to have someone who’s got your back… and someone who doesn’t have more than one 32nd birthday.

Visit www.harrietdyer.com for a gander at all I’m up to, you nosey little bugger.

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Written by Harriet Dyer

Harriet Dyer is an eccentric and full of life palavers human being that originally hails from the land of Cornwall.