Recently I was chatting to an old colleague, who’s in a long-term relationship but has started having feelings for women: “I don’t know whether to talk to my boyfriend or just, you know…go have fun,” she said, flushing. Maybe…try not to cheat?” I said gently. I can’t say I’m surprised to be honest – not about her specifically, but about women in general. All the signs pointed to a day of reckoning: the fact that 50% of women over 50 identify as bisexual; the fact that women are more in tune with their sexuality than ever. You can see it on a night out: girls flirting and snogging and copping a feel on the dancefloor. It was only a matter of time before the housewives shed their pinnies and good wife status and bolted for Lesbos.
Regrets are terrible things. They’re like pieces of glass littering a beach. As you roam back over your memories it’s all warm and soft until you feel the sharp slice of them through your feet. They hold so much power. What could my life have been if only I had followed my heart, held my nerve, chased my dreams? The path you took will never be as exciting or fulfilling as the one that passed you by.