I found it necessary to share a blog with you all on this momentous occasion. Valentine’s day. The day all single women dread and feel even more alone than usual. Unfortunately, my blog tonight isn’t a recent tale, as let’s face it, Nicola has got my wee fanny under lock and key at the minute, and our entire country is well and truly undatable.

I’ve been reminiscing about past experiences of Valentine’s day I’ve experienced over the years. My Instagram has been packed with flowers, chocolates, lingerie the last few weeks, and the whole charade that goes along with V Day got me thinking.

Is there anything more depressing on Valentine’s day than being single?

The answer. YES… being single on Valentine’s day in the middle of a pandemic, that’s what.

My worst Valentine’s experience started with a youthful, bubbly Sophie, crisp out of high school with the concepts of Shakespeare’s love influence weighing heavily on my mind. I worked in a local restaurant at the time, and when serving tables was blatantly asked outright on a date by one of the customers. His name was Graham, he was around 5ft 10, draped in Ralph Lauren, and was in the midst of a meeting with his accountant at the time. I giggled like a hyena on speed as the average eighteen-year-old would, and I didn’t respond verbally, only with a large bright red face. After leaving the table and gossiping to my colleagues about my strange proposal I was intrigued, I mean, after all, the man has lunch with his accountant, he must have money, and at that age, my shallow little brain cells twitched almost as much as my Fanny did.

A short while later he ushered me back to the table and pointed to the window,

“Do you like that car there?” He sat back in his chair cockily, while I nodded innocently facing a brand-new BMW sportscar. I mean what wasn’t to like. I had just outgrown my micro scooter, and anything bar a fucking unicycle would be a step up.

“That’s mine. I could pick you up on Saturday and take you for dinner if you like?”

My blushing cheeks radiated as onlookers watched me gush enjoying this newfound flattery.

“Erm… I’m not sure. What age are you?” I asked, acknowledging the obvious age gap.

“Thirty-three, what age are you?” He was confident about his age, and himself for that matter and I couldn’t help but immediately fancy the fucking pants off him.

I found myself exchanging numbers with my first older man and perhaps, that’s when the fascination began for me. Graham scheduled the date for Saturday, which coincidentally fell on Valentine’s day. When I grasped this realisation, my brain hit a frenzy.

Perhaps he meant to arrange it for Valentine’s, I thought. He must really fucking like me. I wonder what he will get me. I hadn’t undertaken any love lessons at this stage and made sure he knew exactly how keen I was. I also mentioned that our date fell on Valentine’s day around forty times of it being arranged by continually texting him. I remember messaging, ‘If you want me for desert, you better get me a present babe.’ CRINGE!

The date night had arrived, I told my Mum I was spending it with my high school prom crush terrified she’d look into the man who had more wrinkles than her. But upstairs, I was beginning the transition from girl to woman. I was one hundred per cent committed and enthusiastic for this to go well. I examined my child-like closet of bright colours, boob tubes and combats. 

This wouldn’t do. I needed something sexier, more sophisticated. Instead, I resorted to robbing my sister’s grey turtleneck top, which just passed my crotch if I stretched the material enough. I wanted this as a mini dress, but any sudden movement my fanny lips were dangling like a Roosters chin. Too risky! I resorted to hauling out the bobbly school tights, still keen on the mini dress look. The clock was ticking and while my naive mind fantasised about a candlelit meal with an older chivalrous gentleman who would push my chair in, shower me with expensive gifts and walk hand in hand around the town with. Maybe, he will buy me lovely jewellery for a gift, or a cute Blue nosed bear teddy. (They were all the rage back then- and if you required a declaration of love, that was it). With my mind wholly invested in daydreaming, I had popped my finger through the only pair of black tights I owned.

Shit! Right at the inside of my thigh too. I didn’t have time to change. Instead, I’ll play dumb, I thought. Pretend I didn’t notice the rip, guys at school never saw that sort of thing, why would he?

I heard a car peep from outside my house, and I strutted down my street confidently like Naomi Campbell, occasionally tugging at the top not wanting to flash my freshly shaved vagina to my neighbours. Stepping into his car, I instantly smelled the strong scent of Joop stinging my nostrils. He’s brought out the good stuff I thought, he def likes me!

 “You look mmm….” He said with a fire burning his eyes.

 I smiled nervously handing him the card I had written creatively with my strawberry-scented gel pens.

 “I’ve left your present in the house. I couldn’t get a reservation because it’s Valentine’s day. I thought you could just come to mine and get it?” I nodded animatedly; after all, ca-ching this cunt had his own place!

 I entered Graham’s home, a modern new build furnished with rich expensive interiors. 

Wow! I could get used to living here, I thought. I turned to him who was pulling off his shoes, smiling towards me.

“Mon give me a wee kiss gorgeous.” I wasn’t used to this flattery level and again walked straight over to be kissed by my first ever Sugar Daddy.

His lips were soft and experienced, and as soon as he planted his tongue in my mouth, I started to feel warm, wet and horny. Wow. He certainly knew what he was doing. He pushed me against the wall and began caressing my entire body. I could feel my fanny bounce around my Sisters favourite thong that I borrowed with the sheer excitement of about to be touched. Oh, fuck, yes! I knew I was about to be given a good shafting with a man bursting with sexual knowledge. The kissing and fondling continued, and as his hands were interacting with every part of me, he was caressing every nook and cranny I owned, I wasn’t sure if this man was double-jointed or David fucking Blaine, but I liked the element of surprise. I felt a large RIPPPPP he pulled my tights apart from the small hole I had created earlier.

“You were trying to tease me with that little hole weren’t ya.” He grunted. My heart pounded as I lied back.

“What hole?” I couldn’t very well admit that I voluntarily left with tarnished clothing.

“Come upstairs and get your gift!” He demanded and led me by the hand.

 We walked into his bedroom, and I was surprised to see a little packaged box sitting, he handed it to me while he started to strip naked. I felt unbelievably nervous and regretted my choice of light grey clothing as I was sure sweat patches of pure lust were occurring. I opened my gift carefully and was surprised to see an extra-large pink vibrator. I had never seen a real one so close up but was more than willing to try it out. My eyes expanded with glee.  

“Have you ever used one baby?” He stood naked, slowly pulling back his foreskin.

I shook my head. “Let me show you.” He aggressively pulled it from the packaging while I took a deep breath. Don’t be nervous, I thought. This is supposed to be amazing! He was holding my new toy seductively still wanking himself off with the other hand.

I lay back on his bed, expecting to be pounced on at any minute but felt nothing. I lifted my head towards my date and noticed him standing at the opposite end of the room. He was spitting and licking up and down the giant vibrator. I sat back, ready for take-off. Instead, he turned on the settings, and I watched bizarrely while he sooked a substantially large pink dick, in and out of his mouth. I observed him feeling confused, wondering if this was all part and parcel of foreplay as an adult. He was winking over to me, as if I was enjoying the kinky sex show.

“Ohhh fuck, do you like this baby?” He shrieked as he shoved one leg up on the bed, wanking frantically while deep throating himself with MY dick! I nodded back keen to get involved myself. His face was purple, his eyes streaming like the exorcist, and I could hear the continuous buzz as the plastic penis was churning rapidly ringing in my ears. What the fuck was he doing? But I sat back waiting, hoping he had opted for rechargeable batteries as the time was going on and I was desperate to try out my new toy. I was admiring his sweaty, hairy, manly body but at the same time I prayed he’d hurry up as I had a curfew to stick too. Eventually, he pulled the big cock from his mouth and let out a cheeky little whimper as he spunked onto his bedsheets. I was no sex blogger back then, but even I knew my fun was over for the night.

Not only did I not get any action that Valentine’s, but I also had no dinner, no tights and a second-hand gift.

The introduction of Galentine’s changed the concept entirely for me. My favourite Galentine’s day experience was attending the highly awaited premiere of Fifty Shades of Grey in the cinema with around six of my best friends. 

Before this, we all got absolutely steaming in Frankie & Benny’s which meant any sex scene that occurred in the movie made us wolf whistle and scream immaturely as we drooled over Jamie Dornan. The night was filled with the best banter we could muster up, cocktails and sheer love for each other in that moment.

Charlotte from Sex and the City once said: “Maybe our girlfriends are our soulmates, and guys are just people to have fun with.” Perhaps, she’s right. I don’t think I’ve ever had a similar connection to any man in the way I have with my friends. 

They know every inch of me, every flaw and every story (even the ones that are too embarrassing to blog). They get me, and I adore them.  

Lockdown has taken away Valentine’s and Galentine’s day celebrations for many people. We can’t see someone we fancy, or our Gal’s, and I completely understand how this can be a shitty day for single people worldwide. But the past year in lockdown I’ve realised things about myself after spending a lot more time alone. Like, I don’t need to wear makeup to take the bins out, or I can tell people if I’m struggling and they will support me, or if I really put my mind to it, I can write a best-selling fucking book! It’s honestly changed me, and I feel like I’ve grown as a person because of it.

I’m not saying I’m the Glaswegian Dali lama, but this year I’ve been thinking,

What if we celebrated ourselves this Valentine’s?

If we celebrated how incredible and unique we were individually? What if Valentine’s day 2021 was a way of reminding yourself of how far you’ve came in the middle of a fucking pandemic. Who cares if you have no one beside you right now, look at yourself in the mirror, and show YOURSELF love, and be proud of it? Shower yourself with cheesy gifts, chocolates or huge pink dildos! Get a takeaway, or lie in bed and watch Netflix because honestly, you deserve it!

This year I would love to be spending Galentine’s day with my friends, but instead, I’m not. I’m spending it with me, and that’s ok. So, I’m saying happy Valentine’s day to me because I deserve to feel special and loved this year, and you do too.