Project Love Myself

Posted by Katy Regan at 15:52 on 12 Jun 2008

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Well, clearly older women getting it on with younger men and younger men getting it on with older women is where it's at.

Egg's at it. (And what I said about her being hot, is right, I've met her - her being a friend of a friend and a past reader of my column, which is a bit weird! She's beautiful.)

And so are quite a few of my friends.

Last night, I was supposed to be going on the pull with my friend Laura. Fat chance of that! She rocked up, having had three hours sleep the previous night after a marathon session with a 23-year-old Italian (she's almost 37), totally 'sexhausted' and raving on in SATC-style about the size of his you-know-what.

It gives me hope. This, and also seeing Sex and the City (how amazing did those 40-somethings look!?), that at 34, you're certainly not past your sell-by-date. That it's not OK to be letting the grey hairs show through, shopping in BHS and wearing skirts cut on the bias.

The thing is though, no matter how much I'd like to, I just can't see me prancing around London bedding men in their 20s. Deep down - well actually not deep down at all, my feelings constantly simmering on the surface - it's a confidence thing. I never, ever regret Fergus. It's preposterous to think you could ever regret a child. But the truth is, having a baby like I did, shot my body to pieces, any idea of how my life would be to smithereens and my confidence… well, it's never really recovered.

So, in true Oprah style, before I can start Project Boyfriend, I reckon I need to start Project Love Myself (did I just say that?!). Tiny steps, I reckon. Carry on with the Food Doctor diet (even though am already at risk of turning into a pulse), stop sitting on arse and writing all day (just been for run). And start believing - rather than just saying - that it will and can happen. Because, really, I'd like to have a boyfriend, I really would. I'd like to have another baby one day - and experience what it's like to do it normally, not like I'm watching a film of myself and thinking, 'There for the grace of God, go I.' (Except, that 'I' was me.)

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