I saw the latest Sex And The City movie a few days ago. My verdict: not impressed! I don’t want to get into a rant of how bad I thought it was (bearing in mind that I am a huge SATC fan and loved the last movie) but my main exclamation at the end of the film was: “What on earth were they thinking?!”

Then last night, after I arrived home from the theatre, I was doing a spot of light channel flicking on the telly and came across the very first episode of the TV series. 1998 seems a very long time ago. I was 32 at the time, the same age as Carrie, Miranda and Charlotte, and as a single girl living in Central London some aspects of my life were not dissimilar to theirs.

My first thought when casting my mind back to 1998 was that although I had enjoyed an exciting, high octane lifestyle I was quite often depressed about the fact that I was single. For me 1998 was the year of a significant heart break brought about by unrequited love.

Back then I used to obsess about the factors that made me unhappy on a constant basis for weeks or months on end. When I look at my life today, I don’t do that anymore. If something bothers me now it only lasts for a day or two and then I get back on an even keel. I think that over the years I have learned to be happy as I am and I enjoy a much deeper level of self acceptance. That has, at last, brought the most wonderful man in my life and I have a much more fulfilling working life now. Ironically when we constantly obsess about what we don’t have we seem to prevent those desires from entering our lives.