A desperate attempt to find the girl of my dreams.

As featured online @ Daily Telegraph on 8 September 2015

She looked like Edna Turnblad from Hairspray. I know John Travolta played Edna Turnblad, that’s just what she looked like.

She stared at me as if she was trying to decipher what was wrong with me before I even spoke. I hoped like crazy she’d found the answer because she was the only person that could help.

They say you shouldn’t put all of your eggs in one basket. And I would spread my metaphorical eggs across a number of people that could help, but I couldn’t because I only had one egg left.

Confused? Here’s clarity — I’m less than six months from turning 30 and I’m afraid.

My current Facebook photo looks nothing like my first. My skin — eight years on — looks like sandpaper, my jaw line has started retreating back into my face and my hair is thinning, even though my 54-year-old dad looks like Rob Lowe. But decadence is not what I’m afraid of.

I’ve been on one overseas trip. I went to Hollywood on my own because I wanted to meet Natalie Portman. I had a really bad time; I got sick, I had my camera stolen and I didn’t meet Natalie. And I haven’t been anywhere since. But being unworldly is not what I’m afraid of.

I used to run to the letterbox… when I was eight and had a bowl cut. Now I plod miserably with a bowl of caramelised fig yoghurt. Yesterday I got a letter saying my rent was going up. Living under a bridge, or probably less dramatic, not owning my own home… not what I’m afraid of.

I went to my nephew’s first birthday party a month ago. Stuffing my face with Mars Bar cake I looked around and compared my life to the rest of my family. My brother is married with a one-year-old and he’s two years younger than me. My mum was married with two children at twenty-six; she met my dad in grade prep for crying out loud. My other brother has a girlfriend he’s had for two years and the last of my really good mates is getting married in November. I almost felt like being sick. Not from the fourth piece of cake but because I realised why I’m afraid of turning 30 —

I’ve never been in love.

My single status wasn’t through lack of trying. Without taking notes, I’d been rejected close to 40 times in my life and probably rejected someone else maybe seven or eight.

I’d been setup with women through friends and work colleagues but it had never worked out. I’d had two previous girlfriends but it was clear on both counts that we were better off as friends. I really wanted to force the second relationship, but I couldn’t do it, my feelings were my feelings and I couldn’t change them.

Last week my feelings were telling me I could no longer do this on my own. I’d reached a point where I needed help from someone else, and luckily it didn’t take long to find her — Edna Turnblad would be my saviour.

“Honey, I’m a relationships counsellor,” she said, closing an empty file.

OK, maybe I hadn’t found her. Maybe she wasn’t trying to decipher me earlier, but figure out what I was doing there. I wasn’t ready to give in, if there was the smallest chance she could help, then I had to take it.

“I need help with the relationship I hold with myself.”

That didn’t come out right. She told me a psychologist would be able to help with that. I told her I didn’t need help unravelling my childhood; I needed help finding a woman.

She told me I needed a dating coach.

This all seemed quite trivial, when in reality my heart was starting to hurt, and she needed to see it.

My hands suddenly went really cold, and then my arms. Confessing is never easy, even to someone who gets paid to hear it.

“I know what this looks like, but I promise you it’s not.” My voice was starting to shake, like it too was shivering in coldness.

“I am not Casanova, I am not into one-night stands and I am not interested in being the next Playboy entrepreneur. I’m a stand-up bloke who’s had enough of walking life’s yellow brick road without a partner. I want to get married and have kids. Most of all I want to find my soulmate.”

Edna Turnblad — the real Edna Turnblad — knew a thing or two about missing out on life and this relationships counsellor must have too, because she was empathetic.

Empathetic enough to give me a referral to see someone else.