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Like many of us, I went through a phase in my teens of seriously thinking I wouldn’t find anyone and mentally I consigned myself to living alone.

Sounds mad, but I did. I didn’t fit the stereotype growing up (for many reasons) and coming to London was like being released from my cage.

Yet lately, at 25, I’ve begun to find myself getting the settling urge.

I don’t mean kids – I don’t think I’ll honestly ever have time for children, I prefer a demanding artistic career. But I find myself yearning for a full time partner to share all the ups and downs with. I still go out to clubs, occasionally drink too much, have chance encounters – all the things you’re supposed to do as a 20-something urbanite.

Perhaps that’s why more recently older men have caught my eye (The Lawyer is 42). Something in me is drawn to that particular kind of man who looks as though he’s going to wrap you in his arms and take care of you emotionally. I’m sure some will disagree with me, but I find the thought of just one person who you share life with extremely comforting.

These days, the very modern sensibility seems to be multiple partners, and ‘open relationships’ are commonplace. Perhaps it’s just the last vestige of a rater conservative upbringing (neither of my parents to this day believe in gay marriage) but I sincerely hope for the day when coming home means into the protective arms of one very special man, in a home you’ve built together.

I don’t set much store by titles and labels. But I think in essence love is opening up to someone, body and soul, and letting them into your heart and mind.

Can you really do that with more than one person at a time?

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