55 and back on the dating apps. There. I said it. I keep stopping to look at my profile photo and thinking, is that actually me? Not in a horrified way, just... when did I become this woman? I don't mean that badly. She looks fine. She looks like someone's mum who has had a life. But I don't know if I know how to be attractive on purpose anymore. Like I've forgotten the moves. Or maybe I never had moves and just had youth, which apparently does a lot of the heavy lifting without you realising. I had a date last week. Coffee, nothing mad. He was perfectly nice. I wore a dress I bought in a sort of hopeful panic and I did feel good in it, genuinely, not performed good. That felt like something worth writing down. The dress worked. I worked, a bit. The bit I'm less sure about is what happens if it ever gets further than coffee. My body has changed in ways I'm still getting used to privately, let alone with another person involved. I've got a GP appointment next week and I'm going to try to actually say that out loud, the confidence side of it, not just hand over a symptom list and hope she reads between the lines. Anyway. Coffee was fine. Dress was good. That's enough for now x