My Lovely Lady Lumps

And the award for the hardest working metabolism in the history of mankind goes to………..........

Anyone who knows me will be aware that I have quite possibly one of the worst diets imaginable.  I don’t eat any vegetables or any fruit, in fact the closest thing to a vegetable I've ever eaten is a French Fry! I cannot cook to save my life (apart from my beloved beans on toast combo).  All my meals are microwave friendly and no doubt heavily processed.  To add insult to injury I have a serious soft drink addiction, at one point I was averaging a litre of Coke a day.  And no, before you ask, I have not been diagnosed with diabetes! How this is even possible remains a mystery to me too! An even bigger mystery is the fact that despite the odds I have managed to remain a size 10.  I’ll be the first to admit that it really isn't fair. There are some people that could gain weight just by looking at what I eat! My metabolism really does deserve an award.  But looks can certainly be deceiving. I may appear to be a healthy enough individual to the average eye, however the repercussions of my diet are beginning to take their toll.

So where do these bad eating habits of mine stem from? Should I be blaming my parents for not enforcing a more balanced diet on me? Well first of all, Mum & Dad are certainly not to blame here.  I’m a stubborn adult, so you can only imagine what I was like as a child.  My parents repeatedly threatened disciplinary action every time I neglected my greens.  I still refused.  I remember one instance where my dad told me that I wasn't allowed to leave the table until I had eaten everything on my plate.  I didn't bother pleading my case, instead I saw it as a challenge.  I sat there with a smug look on my face, fully prepared to spend the rest of the evening at the table.  Eventually frustration got the better of him and he threw the contents of my plate in the bin. I had won this battle! It wouldn't be long before my parents gave up on even trying to get me to eat healthier.  I was a lost cause, no one could save me but myself. 

With regards to the side effects I touched on earlier, I can’t help but notice several changes occurring to both the exterior and interior of my body. The first notable change has to do with my energy-or lack thereof.  Once a competitive long distance runner, now I can’t even run for a bus without gasping for air.  I'm tired all the time, no matter how much sleep I acquire.  My love of movie watching has been severely compromised by this constant state of fatigue.  The girl that sat through Titanic fifteen times at the cinema now struggles to stay awake for the entirety of any film.  Next thing you know I’ll be falling asleep mid-sentence like Bart Simpson’s Grandpa.  In a bid to explain my drowsy demeanour, my fitness guru brother Matthew told me to think of my body as a car.  In that respect I'm definitely a second hand, 1980 Toyota! If my body is a car, than the food I consume is no doubt the fuel.  With that in mind it’s no surprise I feel so run-down all the time. I guess it’s a case of getting back what you put in.  If you feed your body with crap, then you’re going to feel like crap & vice versa.

My physical appearance is also beginning to change.  For years people have been telling me that one day all my unhealthy habits would come back to bite me in the ass.  I hate to admit it but they were right, only the ass they were referring to is slightly bigger these days.  My once steel-like metabolism is showing serious signs of strain.  For the first time in my 31 years of life I've noticed a bit of extra meat on my bones.  I now have love handles and a pot belly-or pouch as I prefer to call it.  I know I'm not overweight as of yet, however this certainly isn't the body shape I've become accustomed to. 

So what now? Well I'm slightly ashamed of the fact that it took a noticeable change in my appearance for me to finally show concern where my health was concerned.   My body has been sending me signs for years that it was struggling, yet I ignored them and continued to indulge in a lifestyle that can only be seen as detrimental.  I'm always going to love greasy, fried food. I'm always going to crave all things chocolate. I don’t plan on denying myself any of those things, life’s too short!  However it’s my attitude towards food I want to change, and not just to lose the additional skin I seem to have acquired.  I want to improve my overall health as well.  I'm sick of feeling sluggish.  I'm sick of fighting the urge to nap at any given opportunity.  Food really is fuel for our bodies, and it’s about time I stop attempting to run on empty, and by empty I mean crap.

Yours Faithfully,

Fiona

Behold........my first ever salad! One small step for mankind.....

Did Feminism Take a beating in 2013?

 “One of the greatest powers a woman has is the power of her sex.  Few women realise the power of their sexuality and those who do often abuse that power”-Rick Johnson

I am woman hear me roar…….well in 2013 it was more like I am woman watch me twerk! The feminist movement aimed to establish equality, while also attempting to alter the perception that females were nothing more than sexual objects.  We’ve certainly come a long way, our place in society is no longer confined to the household.  Us working women owe a lot to our predecessors.  They fought hard for the rights we enjoy today.  There's no denying the fact that progress has indeed been made.  However I can’t help but feel we’ve never really managed shake off the ‘eye candy’ stigma. 

So why in this day and age are women still being viewed as sexual objects? Most people will point the finger at the media. I certainly agree.  In my eyes the main culprits include the music industry, men’s magazines, and of course the dreaded Page 3 phenomenon (a feminist’s kryptonite).  The music industry is no doubt a source of major frustration for modern day feminists the world over.  It was one of the first outlets to discover that sex really does sell.  Early music videos usually featured nothing more than a live performance.  However when sex hit the main stream, it all changed.  Music videos became less of a visual expression of an artist’s work, and more like a vehicle for pushing sales.  So how can you ensure people will watch your video?  The formula is simple, just include an array of beautiful, scantily clad women doing some seriously sexy moves.  Men will no doubt want to watch them, while girls will aspire to look like them.  My issue here is not only the obvious exploitation of the female race, but also the lack of originality. If I had a euro for every music video I’ve seen containing a girl in a bikini-I’d be able to buy my own record label.  It’s beyond boring at this stage!  

The majority of record companies are owned by men, so it’s easy to blame them for this surge in exploitation.  But what about the female artists that are choosing to market themselves in a sexual manner? Surely they have to be held accountable too.  It's easy to point the finger at the big bad record executive, and assume he’s the one putting pressure on these girls to bare skin.  However I don’t think that's entirely fair. Jive records were eager to keep Britney Spears as pure as possible.  They even went as far as to suggest she proclaim her virginity.  In her early days, she was the epitome of the squeaky clean teen idol.  Mother’s would happily buy their daughters Britney records, after all she was such a good role model.  However despite their best efforts, Jive couldn’t stop Britney from growing up.  She was discovering her sexuality, and it started to alter her image. The more famous she became the more power she exuded.  If Jive wanted to hold onto their biggest selling artist, they’d have to step back and allow her to take control, even if it meant alienating their sacred teen fan base.

Fast forward to 2013 and we’re seeing a similar scenario play out with Miley Cyrus. Like Britney, she was a former Disney darling who captured the imagination of young girls everywhere.  However last year her she showed us a completely different side to her.  Miley was no longer content to play the part of the pristine pop star.  Her image underwent a major overall, everything was stripped down……literally. But she wasn’t the only one to turn up the skank factor . It seemed like last year the women of pop were embroiled in a battle, each one desperate to out-tramp the other. We saw Rihanna take on the role of a G-string wearing stripper in her video for Pour It Up. She even managed to simulate sex with a chair! When you think about it Britney’s ab baring antics in early 2000 were nothing compared to what we’re seeing now.  However Miss Spears recently attempted to regain her raunchy crown by depicting BDSM in the video for her latest single Work Bitch.

On one hand I’m furious that these pop stars are providing fuel to the fire.  How are we ever going to be taken seriously if women are now exploiting themselves?  But then another part of me finds it empowering to see women taking control of their own sexuality. I have to admit Rihanna does look pretty bad-ass sitting on that throne-smoking a cigar.  I like that we’ve also taken ownership of the word bitch, it’s fast becoming a term of endearment amongst females.   

I’m seriously conflicted when it comes to this issue.  Is it such a bad thing to want to be sexy? Does it mean you’re betraying the concept of feminism?  The female form is a work of art, can we blame women for wanting to celebrate it?  I’ve come to the conclusion that there is a fine line between being sexy and being downright tacky. There’s a lot to be said for leaving something to the imagination.  For me it boils down to intentions.  I have no problem with any woman expressing their sexuality.  But if you’re letting it all hang out as a means of seeking attention and or shocking people, I’m less forgiving.  To me that reeks of desperation. I also find it incredibly lazy and unimaginative.  Hopefully 2014 will bring us something a little more original! After all any gal can take her clothes off!

Yours Faithfully

Fiona

Are We the Vainest Generation of Them All?

  It’s Saturday night, yours truly is in her favourite Dublin night club having a great time.  The combination of vodka and Fiona-friendly music certainly has me in the zone.  I’m dancing away without a care in the world, oblivious to anyone around me but my friends.  I decide a trip to the ladies is in order, however upon arrival my state of blissful ignorance is brought to a grinding holt.  I look around to find my fellow females pouting & posing, basking in their reflections.  Some are even taking iPhone ‘selfies’ in the bathroom mirror.  Like any Facebook user my homepage is usually flooded with selfies, so it’s certainly not a foreign concept to me. However I assumed these DIY portraits were taken in the privacy of one’s own home, usually the bedroom. I was shocked to see women doing this openly, in full view of everyone inhabiting the bathroom. More shocking to me was the fact that they did it without even a hint of embarrassment or shame.  Then it hit me, no one is batting an eye lid because this is the new norm.  It’s no longer enough to be secretly satisfied with the reflection that greets us, we now need the whole world to see just how good we look.

   

  So were these young ladies smiling in these selfies? Of course not, nobody smiles anymore, and if they do it’s certainly not a genuine one. A true selfie expert knows how to execute the perfect smile, one that ensures his or her features look as flattering as possible. The eyes are widened (referred to these days as smising), while the cheeks are gently sucked in, giving the illusion of high cheekbones.  If smiling isn’t for you then don’t fret- the 'Duckface' is a perfectly acceptable form of selfie expression. Just follow the aforementioned eye and cheek technique, but this time press your lips together like you are blowing a bubble.  And don’t worry if you don’t like what you see, you can just delete it and go again.  Digital film has certainly changed the way in which we capture our ‘moments’ these days.  Spare a thought for the poor buggers in the past that had to wait until their pictures were physically developed by a third party before they could decide if they were sexy or not.  Back then even if you were happy with your images, the amount of people you could show them to was limited.  Thankfully the birth of social media has rectified this injustice.  Now everyone and their dog can see just how hot we looked last night.   

    Women are not the only culprits when it comes to our generation’s obsession with self-image.  Previously it was assumed that a man could simply pop on a pair of jeans and a top, and head off on his merry way.  Not anymore.  These days expectations regarding the male appearance have definitely increased.  We are living amidst the Geordie Shore generation.  A man seeking to attract the attention of a decent lady should meet certain requirements.  He must have a tan, a well-defined set of abs, and of course the biceps to go with them. I’m sure there has been a steady rise in the amount of men signing up for gym memberships the world over. I’ve witnessed first-hand this new breed of man in training. They tend to ignore all cardio equipment and head straight for the weights, which just so happen to be situated in front of the mirror.  Their intentions clearly have less to do with general fitness and more to do with looking good naked. But can we blame them? These days they’re under just as much pressure to look good as we are.   It’s stiff competition out there (no pun intended).   

    Once you’ve put in all that hard work in the gym, you’re going to want to show off the results right? Of course, and why shouldn’t you.  Behold the male version of the selfie: usually involving a tight fitted top with a low V-neck to give those pecks the recognition they deserve.  Some men take it even further, posing half-naked ensuring those chiselled abs are on full display. 

  So who’s to blame for this rise vanity? Is it reality TV shows like Jersey and Geordie Shore? Or are they simply highlighting a pattern of behaviour that already existed. Perhaps we can look to technology and social media.  Smart phones have certainly made the process of taking pictures easier than ever.  We no longer have to lug around a bulky camera on our nights out.  Plus we can download certain apps to make our pictures look more glamorous and professional. Social media then allows us to instantly share these works of art to hundreds of our ‘friends’. 

   Maybe it’s not vanity at all.  As human beings we all have insecurities that are perfectly natural.  These insecurities are no doubt heightened by our society’s infatuation with beauty.  Some of us may crave reassurance, and therefore post these selfies in the hopes that people will tell us what we need to hear.  Whatever the cause it seems a shame to me that people focus so much of their energy on what they look like, especially when they’re on a night out.  You’re so supposed to be having fun, enjoying the moment.  At the end of the day we’re all going to be old, saggy, and grey one day. What would you prefer to look back at, perfectly constructed images or genuine fun-filled memories? I know my answer. 

Yours Faithfully

Fiona

Be Aware: Negative Aliens Everywhere!!!

    I’m 29 this month. There I said it! Still can’t actually believe that little Fiona Cooney is almost 30! Where the heck have the last 8 years gone? I always insist that despite getting older in the numerical sense, I still feel exactly the same as I did back when I entered the land of the twenty-somethings.  I genuinely believed this…..until now. The truth is I have changed. I’d like to say that these changes are all positive, thus shaping me into the well rounded woman I am today.  But that would be a lie, and us mature adults should never tell porky pies!!  With that said, I definitely see a confidence and strength in myself that was absent in my teens and early 20’s.  However whilst I’ve gained in the inner strength department, I seem to have suffered a significant loss in the area of optimism and positivity. This begs the question, as we get older and supposedly wiser-is it inevitable that our view of the world will take on a more cynical approach? Was our previous optimism really such naivety in disguise?

   

   I used to take pride in the fact that I was no longer the over-friendly, naive little girl of yesteryear.   The old me was the kind of girl you could take advantage of and disrespect without fear of consequence.  Fiona never stood up for herself and more often than not suffered in silence.  Fast forward nearly a decade and the girl you see today is a far cry from her predecessor.  Although I still consider myself the fun-loving friendly sort-my approach to disrespect, whether it be to me or to those around me, is a little different.  For better or worse I no longer have the ability to silence my inner vigilante.  I'm definitely proud of how far I've come, and often ridicule the old Fiona.  She was a weak, pathetic version of me, one that I was happy to see the back of.  It felt like I was starring in my own version of Muriel’s Wedding. I was the new and improved Mariel and was dammed if I’d let the old one creep back in.

   

   It’s only lately that I’ve started to change the way I view the previous version of Fiona.  Yes she was a little naive and perhaps too soft at times.  But was she really that bad? Does she actually deserve the level of shame I associate with her?  I don’t think so.  For one thing she exuded a level of positivity that the new me can only envy.  I remember a past employer of mine once asking if I was on drugs because I was happy all the time! So how do I get her back?  I know youth and optimism go hand in hand, so I shouldn’t expect to have the same outlook as I did when I was younger.  But at the same time I don’t want to go on feeling like this either.  It’s like a negative little alien life form has taken over my body- altering my state of mind at a slow rate so as not to raise suspicion.  Change can be a subtle little bugger, it’s only when you compare your current behaviour to that of your past that you realise just how much you’ve changed. 

   

  These days, instead of seeing the best in people I instantly assume the worst. To be fair it’s hard not to when day after day you encounter ignorant, obnoxious human beings.  I find today’s youth particularly disturbing. They seem to lack a certain level of restraint and respect. It’s as if nothing scares them, not their elders, not even the authorities. With that said, I’ve also come across some genuinely lovely, well-mannered youngsters. I guess that’s the key, ignore the bad, focus on the good.  By paying attention to everything that’s wrong with the world around you, it’s easy to forget how much good there is.  Some days I would start work feeling great, however all it would take was one rude customer to completely alter my mind set. It didn’t matter that the majority of people I encountered that day were lovely and appreciative, all I could think of was that one vile person.  In a sense I allowed their negativity to rub off onto me.  So how do I stop this happening in the future? Perhaps it would help if I thought of these nasty little specimens as ‘negative aliens’ hell bent on transforming me into one of them, like something out of ‘The Body Snatchers’. I could use my invisible shield of positivity to fight them off, maintaining my optimistic outlook.  Kill them with kindness so to speak.  It’s definitely worth a try and a lot cheaper than mind altering substances. So the next time you find yourself being drawn into negativity, remember the aliens can’t get you if you don’t let them.  Bring forth your shield of positivity and fight for right to remain an eternal optimist!!!

Yours Faithfully

Fiona

To Facebook Or Not To Facebook???.....That Is The Question!

  My Facebook friends may have noticed that the word aspire features in my job description.   According to the dictionary to aspire to something is to seek to attain or accomplish a particular goal.  The Fiona Cooney definition of this word ……..sit on your ass and wait for everything you’ve ever wanted to fall from the sky into your lap.   I’ve been aspiring for many years now and needless to say it hasn’t led to much.  You might ask why a 27yr old qualified journalist has yet to make a mark on the industry.  The answer I give to that question has varied throughout the years.  At first I was ‘taking a year out’ after graduation. Four years of studying had taken its toll, I needed a break (or so I kept telling myself). My plan was to work full-time for a year, save a little money, then put operation Cooney Career into full swing.  Deep down I knew that I was really just doing what I do best….procrastinating.

  

The gap year argument wore a little thin after the first year.  It was time to come up with a new reason for not pursuing a career. Luckily for me Ireland found itself in the midst of a recession, the old ‘lucky just to have a job’ excuse became my best friend.  My parents were told repeatedly that there were simply no jobs available in the journalism field. Truth is I never bothered to look….sorry mum and dad!  I have no doubt I’m not the only one to fall into the retail trap.  A steady guaranteed wage is hard to walk away from, not to mention the fact that the recession and cuts to the unemployment benefit have turned virtually any job into a keepsake.  However the state of the economy was hardly the real reason I failed to ‘spread my wings’ so to speak.  A combination of laziness and the fear of failure were the real forces at work here.

  

 Two more years past and like its predecessor –the good old recession excuse lost its mojo.  It was now time to work another angle. I thought back to the last time I felt like I was actually furthering my career and putting my creative forces to work. I realised it was back in my college days.   As Oprah would say-I had a ‘light bulb moment’.  I decided to go back to the place where the foundations of my promising future had been laid….college.  What better way to dodge the look of disappointment on the faces of those who dare to ask ‘what are you doing with yourself these days’?  I could now tell people I was in fact studying-perfecting my craft in preparation for my assault on the media industry.

 Going back to college proved to be more than just a valid diversion on the road to career success. It actually served as a system reboot.  That urge to create came creeping back and as cheesy as it may sound for the first time in years I felt like myself again.  I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed or the most sensible sister around, but I do pride myself on having a decent ounce of good old creativity.  My childhood memories are filled with images of yours truly putting on concerts and acting out scenes from my favourite movies (this probably explains the delusion that a Hollywood career awaited me).  The life of a retail assistant had led me to forget or perhaps neglect the things that had once brought me so much satisfaction.  I forgot how much I loved the process of writing. For me there is no greater feeling that putting my fingers on the keyboard and just letting rip (by letting rip I am not referring to the passing of gas-instead the process of releasing my inner thoughts and attempting to string them into sentences that both make sense and provoke some amount of interest). 

 It was around this time that I decided to do something that I hadn’t done in years….take a risk.  In the past any of my written work had only been seen by a teacher-with the exception of the odd time when I allowed a family member to glance over an article or two.  For me, writing has always been a very personal act, one that I was hesitant to make public.  I tend to pour my heart into whatever I write with little interest in censorship. For that reason the idea of putting it out there left me feeling exposed, laid bare if you like.  However with the encouragement of my amazing sister I decided to challenge those fears and start a blog. Cue the birth of ‘Yours Faithfully Fiona’.   The response to my first post helped put to rest any previous reservations.  To hear that people liked my work meant the world to me.  My purpose on this planet soon became very clear.  My name is Fiona Cooney and I was born to write!

 However now I find myself back in familiar territory.  College is well and truely over and there is nothing standing in the way between me and the life I crave.  That’s what scares me the most. I have nothing to hide behind, if I’m not succeeding or reaching my full potential it’s no one’s fault but mine.  Believe it or not I even tried blaming Facebook for my lack of achievement.  The temptation to spend time in other people’s worlds instead of my own was proving too powerful.  I realised I had not written in a very long time and decided Facebook was the culprit.  This led me to conduct a little experiment over the past weekend.  I temporarily deactivated my account thus removing the temptation. So did my hypothesis ring true? By removing Facebook from my life did I manage to allocate more time to my budding writing career? I’m guessing you already know the answer to that. However it did lead me to write this blog so I guess on some level it worked.  But Facebook or no Facebook, recession or no recession there will always be an excuse for me to fall back on.  I read a brilliant quote recently that really hit home, it said ‘what will be is up to me’.  I couldn’t agree more, so with that in mind I Fiona Cooney vow to have some of my work published within the next six months so help me god. And if I don’t feel free to give me that look of disappointment, and whatever you do don’t let make an excuse, we both know it’ll be nothing but bullshit.

Yours Faithfully

Fiona

Family Ties

    The arrival of my sister and her son to Ireland last month resulted in possibly the best three weeks I’ve had in years.  The Cooney’s were under the one roof again for the first time in five years.  This was some feet-considering my brother Matt now resides in Cork, my sister Sharon remains in Perth, Western Australia and then we have little old me living here in Dublin. I think back to the time when we all called Oz our home, Mum and Dad living blissfully as man and wife, Matt and I winding each other up-correction me winding Matt up, whilst Sharon worked long days as a teacher and kept us amused with stories of her little subject’s antics.  Although I enjoyed my own space and often retired to my bedroom to escape the madness, I secretly loved our full house especially when we all piled into the living room to watch shows like Aussie Big Brother or dad’s favourite Survivor.  We were certainly a reality TV loving family.  It might sound weird to say but shows like Big Brother and Survivor actually brought us closer as a family.  We would have intense discussions/debates about who we thought was genuine and who had to go. I remember wishing we could temporarily vote Mum out of the house, as she had a tendency to talk non-stop during TV time.

  No one took these shows more seriously than my dad! I remember one instance when he brought a pen and paper into the living room and proceeded to tally the nominations made by the Big Brother housemates, that way he would know who was up for eviction before it was officially announced.  Another of Dad’s favourite shows was The Osbournes.  One of my most cringe worthy memories takes me back to age 17, Dad and I were glued to the telly watching Ozzy and his crazy family.   Next thing out of nowhere Kelly begins to talk about her special 'lady area' and reveals that her sister Amy has made an appointment for her with the all important ‘vagina doctor’ and she doesn‘t want to go. Ozzy’s advice was to insist Kelly tell the ‘vagina doctor’ to fuck off!! Hearing the v word in my dad’s presence was nothing short of a nightmare scenario.  I didn’t know where to put my head, luckily Dad was bent over in hysterics and I made a dash for the kitchen insisting I needed a drink!!

  Fast forward ten years and I would give anything to have my family back together, sitting around the TV.  Perhaps I would have cherished those days a little more had I known they were numbered.  We Cooney’s found ourselves back together last month, although our encounter was far too brief for my liking.  It’s funny how time can creep by and yet somethings never change.  Matt and I fell back into our slapstick mocking behaviour, Mum’s never ending rants picked up where they left off, and Sharon resumed her role as the sensible/normal one (that is until you get a glass of wine into her).  The obvious thing that had changed unfortunately was the relationship between Mum and Dad.  A big fat elephant had now entered our living room and there was an undeniable tension lying below the surface. Like a volcano it could errupt at anytime. Still I had to appreciate the fact that we were all back together and Jeremy Kyle was nowhere in sight!

    The demise of Mr and Mrs Cooney wasn’t the only change within the family.
Something was notably different between us siblings too. Thankfully this change was a positive one. It became clear during Sharon’s stay that the Cooney kids were now closer than ever. Perhaps being so far apart all these years had resulted in a greater appreciation for each other’s company.  Instead of being jealous and resenting my sister, these days I spend our encounters trying to get her to realise just how fantastic she is and how much I admire her strength both physical and mental.  Not to mention the fact that she is without doubt the greatest mother I have ever seen! Then we have ‘golden balls’ himself Matthew Cooney.  There was a time when I used to beg Matt to leave me alone, however these days the roles have definitely been reversed.  I’m the one itching to spend as much time with him as possible, something I‘m sure he finds slightly annoying.  His gentle nature and quiet confidence makes me very proud to be known around Nenagh town simply as Matt’s sister.

  Throughout life we tend to surround ourselves with people we both like and respect, otherwise known as our friends.  We can pick and choose our friends however when it comes to the family we’re born into, well that‘s something we have no say in.  As cheesy as it may sound, if I did have a choice, I‘d still pick the life of a Cooney everytime! I feel privileged to call my brother and sister my friends and have seen enough episodes of Jeremy Kyle to know that this is not the case in every family.  Shaz and Matt I salute you! May life see us back together again sooner rather than later.

Yours Faithfully
Fiona

Men Are From Mars??? Here's My Theory.........

   After several years on the ‘dating scene’ I have come to both love and loath the male species in almost equal measure. I don’t regret any of my past XY encounters (well maybe one or two), however I certainly wish I knew back then what I have come to know now. But there lies the beauty of hindsight.  I could get all corny and say those experiences have made me who I am today, but I prefer to see them as enabling me to finally weed out the bullshit and see what’s really there. I’m not claiming to be an expert on men-or some wannabe Carrie Bradshaw.  However I have noticed an undeniable pattern which has lead me to believe that most men fit into one of several categories. I thought it was about time I put this knowledge to good use, as many of my female friends are younger than me. It is with their emotional and psychological well being in mind that I write this. 

  The first species of man I would like to address is that of Girlfriend Guy.  Girlfriend Guy is the type of male who may literally fall in love with his own dinner. They are usually desperate for a romantic connection of any type, and will more than likely tell you they love you by the end of the first date.  Thankfully for us they are quite easy to spot, and I advice you stay clear unless you are of course Boyfriend Girl but that’s a whole other article. The interesting thing about Girlfriend Guy is that more often than not he has no reason to be so desperate.  They tend to be nice looking lads with normal social skills, the root of their desire to be ‘coupled up’ remains a mystery to me.

  We now move on to The Mumma’s Boy. This species is a little more complex, as it usually takes time to identify it.  You might not realise you are in the company of a Mumma’s Boy until months down the line. With this breed of man you will discover that the main woman in his life- the mother has likely been the one to make all major decisions for him.  The danger with this lies in the fact that he has been unable to develop the initiative to think for himself, particularly when it comes to women.  A Mumma’s Boy will happily take the back seat and allow you to make all the decisions in the relationship.  Subconsciously he is replicating the relationship he has with mummy dearest. His lack of initiative also means that you will literally have to spell it out for him: It hurts my feelings when you don’t call or text me!!!!!  A true Mumma's Boy has no intention of leaving the nest, and why would he when mother has made it so comfortable for him!  So you might want to think twice before suggesting you move in together.  Another factor to consider is that no matter what you will always play second fiddle to his mother, which is fine just as long as you like her and more importantly she likes you! 


  The next species we will examine is The Metro-sexual.  I believe Metro-sexual Men fall into two categories Type A and Type B.

Type A:  A guy who has a genuine interest in fashion and takes pride in his appearance. Let’s face it ladies there’s nothing wrong with that. When deciding whether or not we are attracted to a man, many women start from the bottom and work their way up.  It doesn’t matter how great your body and face are-if we hate your shoes its all over red rover!

Type B: This is the type of Metro-sexual I advise you ignore.  They tend to be completely image obsessed, and will most likely take longer than you to get ready. You also run the risk of having him steal you sacred hair straightener. A Type B Metro-sexual  can be identified usually by the over-presence of hair product, cologne, and of course the turned up collar. Men of the world take note: the only man to rock the turned up collar was The King himself Elvis!!!!!

   We have now come to what I believe to be the deadliest of all male species…..The Pretty Boy Player.  These boys were blessed with natural god given looks.  They achieve sexy with little or no effort, and can usually make even the most sensible woman weak at the knees. The Pretty Boy Player has never really had to work to gain a woman’s attention and or affection and there lies the problem, they’re lazy bastards!!  On a night out he will usually position himself somewhere that allows him to be noticed-for instance the bar. He will then wait for the women to come to him-like flies to shit, and believe me they will!  He has come to believe that he can get anyone he wants, and therefore you are disposable to him-at least until someone prettier comes along. The problem with falling for this specimen is that you will end up doing all the work.  His dreamy eyes and sexy smile will interfere with your brain waves and in no time you will find yourself becoming obsessed with this creature.  The majority of us women love a challenge, so the more aloof and uninterested he appears, the more we will want him.  It is one of the great mysteries of life! We complain that all men are bastards and yet we have no interest in the ones that aren’t. With that in mind we must now move to my final specimen  ….The Genuine Guy. 

         The Genuine Guy is considered by many to be the most rare species of man.  However I disagree with this.  In my view Genuine Guys are everywhere, they just tend to get over shadowed by the other species we have examined.  Like their title suggests, they are genuine down to earth fellas.  They are often quietly confident and self assured-this allows them to avoid playing mind games. With a Genuine Guy what you see is what you get, and you will always know where you stand with them.  Unfortunately many women find this prospect boring and safe, they crave the danger and complexity of the above species.  However Genuine Guys of the world fear not-in time us women grow tired of the antics dished out by the other breeds, we will come to our senses and learn to appreciate you! Just be patient!!!



 Please be aware that some men fall into several of the above categories.


Yours Faithfully
Fiona