When discussing this column with a friend recently, she said “How very Carrie Bradshaw of you”.

She couldn’t be further from the truth.

I am not so much ‘Sex and the City’, as I am ‘Sexless on the Coast’.

I have however, just come out of a flingship (not a misprint), which is more than a fling, yet not quite a relationship. A flingship.

I have been single for the past six-and-a-half years (since I was four months pregnant, in fact) and as the mother of a small child, have been hesitant to put myself out there.

I mean, how do you date when you are knee-deep in nappies and wiggles DVDs?

How do you even meet men, when you are in your thirties, don’t nightclub, all your friends are happy couples (with 2.3 children) and your most scintillating conversation over the last year was with the butcher? Impossible right?

Seemingly so, however out of nowhere, a man was dropped from the sky into my lap (so to speak).

Six foot two inches of broad chested, white toothed, hard thighed maleness.

I should have been a happy girl, but I was plagued with insecurities and I had absolutely no idea how to conduct myself in this foreign dating zone.

We had dinner at my place, coffee and movie at my place and good conversation at my place.

Forgive my dinosaur attitude, but aren’t you meant to go OUT to dinner on a date?

Mr X (as I’ll call him) was very considerate of my son, but never wanted to leave the house, he wanted to get to know me better first (his words).

I’ve been in for six years and can certainly do with some wining and dining outside of the cage.

We had a few awkward moments at the end of each evening, with the should we/shouldn’t we kiss goodnight, often ending in the (bodies not touching) half hug.

As a self assured, independent, confident woman, I found the absurdness of these moments ridiculously cringeworthy.

I have had a lovely flingship with Mr X and in a different time (or planet) we would be perfect for each other.

However, like a good wine, when the bottle’s empty, you can either call it a night or order another.

We have parted ways on good terms and I live to tell another tale.

What this experience has shown me is that (like Stella) I now have my groove back.

I won’t be fearful of spending time with a man, as long as he understands that I already have one man in my life and he has the final say.