Away from it for twelve years, and half the vocabulary is new

I was in this from twenty five to thirty five, then I married somebody who did not want it, and I made the decision to let it go, and I did. I do not regret the marriage. It ended two years ago for reasons that had nothing to do with any of this. Twelve years is a long time to be away from anything.

Forty seven, east London, I run a small business fitting windows, and I have three evenings a week that are genuinely free rather than theoretically free.

What has changed since I was last here is essentially the whole way people talk. Negotiation is better, expectations are clearer, and half the words are new to me. I am glad about all of it and I am also slightly at sea. I keep starting sentences the way we used to start them and hearing them land badly.

What I want is what I wanted then, which is a woman who runs things and expects a lot. I am not trying to recreate anything. The version of me who was in this at thirty was less honest and considerably more selfish, and the twelve years were not entirely wasted on that front.

Not looking for anything intense in the first months, because I would rather rebuild slowly than pretend I never left. Not looking to discuss my marriage in any detail. Not looking for a woman who wants somebody with current experience, which I entirely understand and cannot offer.