Only money can cure my loneliness

DEAR BEL

AT NEARLY 32 I’ve never been in a relationship. I’ve never kissed a woman, held hands, or been in a situation beyond friendship.

I’ve had a couple of longterm crushes — infatuations, really. But I was rejected or had to watch as they married someone else.

And why wouldn’t they? I’m not much to look at and I’m socially awkward. Every time I talk to someone I feel scared, like they’ll immediately turn on me. I came from quite a nice household but school was hard for me, a weird kid.

I spent years of my life being told that people hate me, that I’m ugly, that I’m a failure.

People seemed to like me when I was good at things. My teachers liked it when I was funny or did well on assignments, so I did that.

My parents liked it when

I made jokes or did as they asked. People seemed impressed when I ran, so I did it so much that I developed an eating disorder.

I’ve been told all my life that the only way I’ll stand out in a good way is if I’m exceptional in some form.

I enjoy writing and am working on my novel. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but it’s more than that now — if I am successful, everything I’ve gone through will have been worth it.

If I’m rich and have social prestige, then someone will want to be with me. I can’t imagine someone liking me for me.

I want to enjoy writing. I want to enjoy life. But I can’t shake the feeling that this is my last chance to find love and start a family. I fear it may already be too late. How do I move on? AJAY

You are still so young, with a whole life before you, but before I address the sadness underpinning your email, I must give you some advice about these writing aspirations. of course, the novel you are writing might become a smash hit and bring you fame and fortune, but it’s more likely that it won’t.

So I beg you not to pin all hopes of turning your life around on the view of a publisher’s reader. That would be more heart-breaking than everything else you feel you haven’t experienced.

Believe me, I’ve had a lot of fiction published (for adults and children) and know many writers, too — so should warn you that the whole business brings as much disappointment as delight. Not to mention poverty. Carry on, of course — but because you enjoy the process, not because you’re putting all your fragile eggs in that basket.

Your email subject line said: ‘I feel I need to be exceptional for someone to love me.’ Isn’t that a bit of a chicken-andegg conundrum? Surely the most ordinary people — with no particular qualities of good looks, brains, talent or personality — become ‘exceptional’ because they are loved? What’s more, being able to give love is one test of character that does not depend on exceptionalism.

one thing I believe is that, with such low self-esteem, it would do you good to talk to an experienced counsellor about all your fears.

Find somebody near you by using bacp. co.uk/search/therapists or welldoing.org/ find-a-therapist. This might help you look outwards and identify what went wrong, exactly who told you negative things, and so on.

When you get to my age you shake your head at somebody not yet 32 writing, ‘I’m worried it may already be too late’. You have decades ahead of you to develop your personality, have new experiences, meet people, write, take advice on what to wear and what to do, and so on.

Years ago I knew a young woman — the most socially gauche person you could imagine: shy, awkward, clumsy, with no boyfriends. Recently I heard she had married for the first time — in her 50s.

Why not try to put a different spin on reality by telling yourself you’re going to make sense of your life by talking to someone — and realising that loving and being loved can happen at any time?

But your assumption that good things will come through a superficial dream of being rich will only keep you locked into an unsatisfactory present.