ringlessandreckless

I am back, reluctantly enthusiastic to share more of my stories because apparently I have lots to tell. 

I honestly quite enjoy giving all my friends and family plenty of laughs, albeit usually at my own expense, whilst providing people with a little escapism for five minutes and quote, “live vicariously through me!”. 

Grab your cuppa, buckle up, I am rewinding.. I should probably preface this by saying this is a good story. This is not a disaster date story. Plenty of time for those ones. 

It was June 2025 and I was blissfully unaware and naive to what awaited me on the dating apps. I think at this time I was probably crying a few times per week. Call it a normal seven or so. Don’t feel sorry for me it’s ok, I’m a sensitive Sally whatever the weather. I often get lovingly bullied by my brother for crying a fair bit (although I am not as bad as I used to be.. swear), either way I find it very cathartic.

It was a lovely warm evening in June. I went out for dinner with one of my besties. We are birthday twins, although I am one year older and none the wiser. So we have a recent tradition of going out to have a little birthday meal just the two of us. Usually because she fecks off to the West with her beautiful family to enjoy her birthday (a wise woman). So we grab a day as close to the birthdays as we can. We were sitting enjoying some wine and Tapas. I could sense her looking at my hands and she very gently asked why I was still wearing my wedding rings. She suggested maybe just maybe considering taking them off. She said wearing them might send the wrong signals, you never know who is around the corner… were her exact words. I was not ready to hear this and it stung a little, but deep down, annoyingly I knew she was right and of course had my best interests at heart. My response to her was ‘Oh yeah, cause someone is gonna look at me and go ‘ooh yeah, she’s alright but oh wait, she’s wearing a wedding ring!’ I said I didn’t think men were 1. That observant and 2. Gave a shit. 

Spoiler alert… fast forward 1 week and this is pretty much what happened.. wedding rings off… game on! Some men actually are that observant..who knew. 

I told her they were a big part of me and who I was. It was more significant to me than just removing some jewellery. She understood. She also said ‘think about it, I know it’s hard and you are not in that space but maybe it might be time’.  So, think about it I did, and that week I set aside a day for myself. I left the house and spent some time on the beach where I had a lovely mindful and reflective evening. I gave it the time and space it deserved to prepare myself for removing them. 

I took them off and it was horrible. 

It felt like another big step on the path to the future that I had committed to carving out for myself which was extremely daunting. My mantra for my wobbly days back then and still to this current day is “ you’ve got this Andrea, you are strong, you will be fine”. If you don’t believe in yourself, who will? A few deep breaths and this mantra a few times and we keep moving (well, we try at the very least). That is all we can do. That and some journaling and practising gratitude when the mood strikes.

So the following weekend I am invited along with my parents to a 70th birthday party. Family friends going back years who we (my siblings and I) grew up with. It was an opportunity to go out and see a few familiar faces I had not seen in a very long time. An instagram DM as the kids call them came in. “Hey, we are having a surprise 70th for mum and dad. Please tell your mum and dad and of course you guys and partners are welcome too”. I responded and said mum and dad would be there and I would hopefully make it too. I was excited to see them. Like I said I had grown up with them and their 3 boys. We went on family holidays together. He and I were joined at the hip, as kids who grew up living two doors down from each other naturally were. We had an absolute ball growing up in the 90’s. Only us millennials will remember those good old days. Outside all day and night playing tip the can in the estate until dark, until we were summoned inside at 11pm. Always bargaining for 5 more minutes. For the purposes of entertainment also, I often treated all of my friends/ neighbours and their older siblings to a striptease that I trademarked. Oddly enough, getting my kit off at any opportunity and flashing people was something I highly enjoyed. 

So I was looking forward to reminiscing with a few of the people who knew this version of me and having a few laughs with them whilst strolling down memory lane together. 

Due to the emotional rollercoaster I was on in those early days of the separation or, in ‘the trenches’ you could say, I could never really trust my emotions in any given moment.  So, I negotiated with myself and mum and dad that I would come into town and pick them up, but would stay and say hello and drive them home later on. I really wanted and hoped for this at the very least. So they got the dart into town. I made my way in later on to pick them up. I wore a nice dress that I hadn’t worn in ages, I felt good and confident in it (not confident enough however to go without the Spanx). Channelling my inner Bridget Jones maybe. Popped on a nice pair of ankle boots, some nice make up, gold hoops and my trusty black Zara blazer over me and downstairs I went. 

Before leaving the house, my sister, whose house I was living in at the time, took one look at me as I walked into the kitchen and said “thought you were only picking them up, you look very nice for someone who is “not going out” and gave me that knowing look only sisters give each other “you are not fooling anyone” and winked at me. Can a girl not put on a bit of makeup and make an effort without getting suspicious side- eye and a grilling? I told her I had the car and had to bring mum and dad back. That would keep me in check and I would be back home later. 

I got into town and parked the car on the road close to the pub. I got out and made my way in. There was a bit of nervous energy in the air and I was a bit fidgety walking from the car to the pub. I always get a bit self- conscious, kind of embarrassed and aware of myself when I am all dressed up, in heels and walking in somewhere alone. I always feel like people are looking thinking ‘where is your one off to?’ I think it could be a woman thing, or maybe just a me thing. 

When I arrived it was so lovely to see everyone I hadn’t seen in years. So after a while chatting and catching up with his parents and a few others I went over and tapped him on the shoulder and said hello. It had been a long time and it was great to see him. I thanked him for the invite to the bash and we got to chatting and filling in the gaps of what we thought had been nearly 20 years since we’d last seen each other. We did a lot of reminiscing and it was fab. Life, work, travel, where we were living now. He was living in London and was no longer engaged which was news to me. I told him I was sorry to hear. I assumed he knew my relationship status too as our mums were pals. Turns out she hadn’t told him. When he thanked me after I offered my apologies to his ended engagement he said “ ah yeah, it’s shit but you know how it is and gave me a knowing look. I said ‘oh ha, did your mum tell you? He said “tell me what?” “That I’m separated now” I said. He replied ‘no, I just noticed you weren’t wearing any rings’ 

Wow! I was shocked- apparently men have better observational skills than we give them credit for! 

The evening flew by, the conversation was flowing, laughs were plentiful and my rubber arm had been well and truly twisted.

My reluctance to ‘have a few’ was due to me worrying how my car was going to get home without me driving it. This dilemma was quickly solved by meddling mothers and my mother offering to drive it home, she had been on the sparkling water all night apparently. How convenient. Sorted. Problem solved. I was told by Mr. Throwback to have a drink. ‘Don’t be such a dry shite,’ he said, as he simultaneously thrust a G&T into my hand. What choice did I really have? It would be rude not to. 

With that he assured my parents he would look after me and get me home safely.

So off we went to the next spot.. another pub out of the city centre… more on the outskirts of Dublin. Let’s just say our drinking establishment went from bougie to budget 😊 Nevertheless it was a great night and serious craic was had! A strange old man pub very local to the locals! With a nightclub attached next door- my kinda place!

Later on that night I was protectively and kindly redirected from the dance floor. Maybe it was time to call it a night. Probably best as I was feeling ‘confident’ let’s just say after a few lemonades. 

So we left the pub and were walking around said outskirts. We jump on the phones to look for options for taxis and where to go/what to do next. That awkward elephant in the room; were we going home together? What happens next? This was a tricky one as he was staying with his parents that weekend and me with my sister. A taxi would be costing him in and around €60 to get home and me a minimum of €100 to get back to Greystones. I certainly was not offering to bring him back to my digs which I shared with the cutest little chaotic boundary violators 😂

I saw he was on a hotel booking website looking at hotels and shocked and horrified I said ‘oh my goodness, what kind of girl do you think I am?! 🤭 “Well I am assuming you’d rather not get a taxi back to Greystones and I would rather not sleep on the couch. I would like a good night’s sleep as I am up at 6am for my flight back to London. If you want a bed that is close and to get a good night’s rest then you’re welcome to join.. he said. Don’t flatter yourself basically! That was that.

Standing at reception for five long minutes while the nice man on the desk searched for available rooms. Finally, one room left! I felt slightly like Julia Roberts, however I was pretty certain this was absolutely not the Beverly Wilshire. 

Right, bed, to sleep. Yes. 

We got inside the room and saw the bed, shoes were off, we collapsed onto the bed. Lovely.

Looks like sleep wasn’t top of the agenda at that moment. Phew, I’m not a total rookie and my spidey senses were spot on with the vibes and where this was going. 

‘OH NOOOOOO’ I shouted! What?! He asked. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!! ‘What is wrong with you?!’ He asked. I said ‘oh Jesus, I am wearing Spanx and I’m so bloody mortified!’ He laughed and said, I don’t care, they’ll be coming off anyway 🫣

Nothing quite as sobering as looking down and seeing a guy you’ve known all your life, who you’re having a great time with, trying to wrestle your Spanx off. 

My God, they weren’t lying when they said they’re made to suck you in. Getting them off was an entirely different workout! I was dying inside, genuinely. I think we can safely leave the rest to your imagination, suffice to say a great night was had! 

Alarm went off at 6am, we were up, showered and gone. We walked to the lift looking very glam indeed in last night’s clothes. We stepped into the lift and to our delight we were greeted by two young children, their mum and their granny off to their lovely civilised hotel breakfast. Fantastic. I could feel the eyes and smirks. We looked at each other and smiled and I thought ‘oh well’.

So, off we went home in a taxi. His stop was first, then me. We texted to make sure we had our stories straight to tell the chief investigators. In his case his mum, in my case my mum and sister. I thanked him for a great night and for so generously getting the hotel and the taxi. There are still some good men out there. I will let you know when I find another. I got out of the taxi and prayed to god that the 2 and 5 year old would miraculously be still asleep at 8am… obviously the whole house was up. But of course. I turned the key in the door with ninja stealth, so I thought. My sister was in the sitting room, and it turns out she had slept on the couch with the 2 year old the night before. No such thing as creeping up to bed to dodge the Spanish Inquisition. Oh and of course my parents were there for a sleepover as they had taken advantage of the fact that I had not come home the night before and slept in my bed. Nice work, Andrea! So, with my ankle boots in hand, I began to tiptoe. I hadn’t even reached the first step. I heard my sister’s voice boom :“ Get in here!” So I went in and as sisters do, we dissected the previous night. 

In comes mum to see what all the shrieks and giggles were about. We gave her a more PG version at the time. I wasn’t ready to share all the gory details with poor mum. Although deep down I am grateful for my big crazy, very close, very loving, oversharing family! 

Recalling this night I always forget the strangest part of it. We were partying with another couple for the night who let’s just say were far from strangers to Mr. Throwback. I was standing at the bar getting a round in for the four of us, his friend came and asked me for my number. I was genuinely kind of confused and asked him ‘for what?’ he said ah just maybe we can meet and have a chat. Luckily we were interrupted and I made my way back to the table. Some men. GROSS. He also followed up with a text asking Mr. Throwback for my number. WTF. 

Looking back, I had a genuinely lovely evening. He was a complete gent, the chemistry was there and I felt so comfortable and myself. After a lifetime of never having to even consider dating, I couldn’t have asked for a nicer person to be there as I ventured back into the dating pool.

That, ladies, was my first tentative toe back into the dating pool. Little did I know what was coming next. 

Keep the standards high and the Spanx off. 

Until next time, Andi xx