In Search of the Ideal
So, picture this: Toms sitting by a small round table in a cosy café in London. He barely registers the warm hum and clink of china around him, because hes laser-focused on the entrance. Every few seconds, his eyes dart from the door to his watch and back again, waiting for Emily to arrive.
Each time a new woman steps in, Tom sits up straighter. One moment, its a lady in a bright scarlet coatnot her. Next, a petite brunette with a massive handbagstill not Emily. He cant help but wonder why shes late. Maybe this is just her thingrunning late for dates, upping the anticipation? Loads of girls do this, thinking a bit of suspense might spark extra excitement. But if Emily thinks drawing things out will make an impression, shes off the mark. Tom is not the type to wait around forever. Hes strict with himself: five more minutes and hes out. Thats his rule, no exceptions.
Time drags painfully on. Toms about to mentally write off the evening, when suddenly, behind him, he hears a cheerful voice: Hello! Sorry Im late!
He turns and there she isa slender blonde, sitting down with a charming smile. Her hairs immaculate, and she seems so calm, so at ease.
Hope you havent been waiting too long? she says, tilting her head a little.
For a moment, Toms frozen, trying to match her to her photo. Emily? he asks, clear hesitation in his voice, peering harder. Is it really you? The woman in your picture looked well, honestly, like someone quite different!
Emily laughs, light as a feather, clearly amused by Toms confusion. It is me, she grins, clearly enjoying his stunned reaction. And before you askthe photo was me, but from about four years ago. Ive changed loads since then, havent I?
She says it like its a badge of honourproud of her transformation, convinced Tom loves the surprise.
Shes wrong
No kidding, Tom says, keeping his tone polite and controlled. In his mind though, hes thinking, Changed a bit much! And not exactly for the better.
Emily toys with a strand of her hair, her gestures playful. I bet youre thrilled Im so much more attractive now, arent you? she teases, narrowing her eyes just so. Honest, I did it on purpose. Back when that picture was taken, no one noticed me. Now, men cant get enough!
She waits for him to joke or shower her with flattery, to declare hes happy shes so different now. Tom, though, isnt in a rush to gush and by the look on her face, shes starting to sense it.
Before meeting up, Emily had done her homework on Tom. Shed scoured every photo, pored over his brief bio, poked around his social media. To her amazement, everything checked outhe really did manage a big company, owned a two-storey house in a lovely village just outside Cambridge, and parked two expensive cars on the drive. It was all a bit like something out of a glossy magazine. Emily couldnt quite believe a bloke with so much going for him was on a dating sitebut who was she to question her luck? She just knew she didnt want to let this catch slip away.
Meanwhile, Tom just kept glancing at the time, figuring out when he could make a graceful exit. The seconds crawled by, each feeling longer than the last. He nodded along politely, tried to get involved in the chat, but inside, he felt absolutely sure: this wasnt the girl for him.
Emily didnt do anything for him. The woman in the photomaybe not a supermodel, but at least shed seemed real and honest. The person across from him now was polished, absolutely brimming with confidence, but somehow she didnt feel right. The way she spoke, her gestures, even her laughter, it all smacked of a performance. Like shed learnt a part and was sticking to the script.
He stole another glance at his watch. Just a few more minutes of this forced politeness, then he could excuse himself, maybe say he had work to do. He was already working out the smoothest line to bow out without being rude.
He caught himself remembering that photothe one that made him click message. What was it exactly that struck him? If he was being frank, it was her figure. Emily in the old photo was just his typesoft curves, a classic hourglass shape, that hed always felt was true femininity. He could recall thinking: Now were talking, finally someone interesting.
But here she was nowslim, almost willowy, hardly filling out her oversized jumper. Tom tried not to let his disappointment show, but he couldnt understand why women so often chased after thinness, sacrificing all the beauty nature had given them. Who decided being all skin and bones was the standard? He couldnt see the appeal, couldnt find the charm or femininity in that at all.
The chat drags on for another ten minutes or somainly Emily talking about her hobbies and hopes for the future. Tom only half-listens, tossing in polite remarks. Hes already planned it: as soon as the conversation runs dry, hell offer her a lift home and use a genuine work emergency as his excuse to get away.
When the moment comes, Tom offers, Can I give you a lift home? Ive got an important meeting in an hour, but Ive time to drop you off.
Emily freezes for half a second, looking a bit put off, but she quickly recovers and nods. Alright, thanks.
During the drive, conversation is scarceTom focuses on the road, Emily stares out the window, sneaking the occasional glance his way, trying to figure out whats gone wrong. As she gets out, she asks, Youll text me tonight? Maybe we can plan a second date?
Of course, I will. Lets chat later and work something out, Tom says, forcing a smile, all while knowing he has zero intention to see her again. Why drag it out?
Emily lingers by the car door, clearly hoping hell say something else. Tom just wishes her a good evening and drives away.
That night, he deletes his dating profile and blocks Emilys number. No doubts, no second thoughts. Theres no point dragging things outhe knew it from the first second, but he was too well-mannered to leave someone sitting alone at the café.
********************
Tom was back at a café in the City with a mate from work one lunchtime. Theres a juicy steak and some golden chips in front of himhis food of choice. He eats slowly, now and then glancing around at the other punters. His eyes keep catching on groups of womenjust about every one of them is masochistically picking through a salad or something equally healthy and light.
Why do girls put themselves through all these diets? Tom sighs, nudging his chips aside. They miss out on all the best things in life! Thats not real food, he says, nodding towards a woman nearby gently forking some spinach leaves, theres no joy there, just counting calories.
Dave, his mate across the table, chuckles. He knows Toms tastes all too well, and can see where his pals going with this. Thats because most blokes like women who are slim, he says, sipping his coffee. Youre the exception, obviously. See that brunette over there? Shes been checking you out for half an hour now. Thats the type you should be noticing!
He gives a subtle nod toward a trim, well-dressed woman who really is sneaking regular looks at their table, pretending to read the menu.
Tom doesnt even bother to turn round. He stays blank-faced, his voice chilly: Cheers for the tip, but Im not fussed about other peoples opinions. Just as I dont get involved with your personal life, Id prefer if you kept out of mine.
Dave raises his eyebrows, not backing off. Do you actually have a personal life? he grins, teasing. Youre all work and hobbies, mate
Tom puts his fork down, giving Dave a level, heavy-lidded look. Dave throws up his hands. Alright, not my business! Sorry. Just trying to help.
Tom ignores him and gets back to his steak. If hes honest, its truehis love life has been pretty much nonexistent lately. About a year back, he broke up with the woman he was planning to marryher name was Sophie. She was genuinely sweet, kind, caring, and, most importantly to Tom, she had the sort of shape he adoredfeminine, soft, with beautiful curves.
Things with Sophie had been lovely and steady. Tom didnt think twice about spoiling heralways keen to show love through gestures. Flowers most days, little gifts just because, always trying to make her smile. He loved seeing her eyes light up at something new or fun.
Sophies wardrobe took up an entire room, with fancy dresses, skirts, blouses, high heels, you name it. She liked to feel different every day, play with styles. Tom encouraged hernothing made him happier than seeing her dressed up and glowing.
He gave her plenty of compliments, tootold her how gorgeous she was, praised each new outfit, assured her she looked fantastic even when she was just in a jumper on the sofa. He meant every bithe wanted her to know he truly valued and fancied her, saw her as the woman he wanted to be with forever.
And then Then things started to change. Sophie began spending more time out with her matesmeeting up for coffee, hitting the cinema, shopping for hours. After each outing, Tom noticed subtle differences in how she acted. First it was just little things, then bigger shifts he couldnt ignore.
One evening, Tom came home to find Sophie peering anxiously into the bedroom mirror, twisting side to side, scrutinising her reflection.
I look fat! she exclaimed dramatically before he was even in the room. I need to get in shapehow else am I supposed to go on holiday in a bikini?
Tom nearly choked. Stunned, he stuttered, What are you on about? You look amazing. Theres nothing to worry about.
You just cant see it! she shot back. Lookeverythings wobbly now! My mates all say you have to be toned and slim. Im going to look ancient if I dont lose weight!
Tom went over to her, gently taking her hands and trying to stay calm. Your friends are wrong! I think youre perfect. I love your figure, your smile, your laugh. Why change?
But Sophie wasnt having it. That thought of not being enough had wormed into her brain, and it was all she could see. Everything else started to spiral from there.
Youve got a lovely body, Soph, Tom said firmly, hoping to steer her away from doing something daft. Honestly, youre beautifulwomen near you dont stand a chance.
She sniffled, tears welling up as she turned her gaze to the window, clutching the tablecloth for comfort. Dont just say that! You shouldve shoved me straight into the gym when I started slacking! I bet you did notice, didnt you?
Tom reached out, laying a hand on her shoulder, sincerely baffled. To me, youre perfect! Sod what anyone else saystheyre just jealous.
Oh, sure! Sophie snapped, jerking away, hurt flickering in her eyes. You just wont admit the truth. Everyone else sees it, so why cant you?
That was the turning point. Sophie decided she had to do something, and her first move was a drastic spring clean of her dietout went sweets, bread, cheese, anything she adored. The fridge filled up with grilled chicken, steamed veg, low-fat yoghurt. Every morning now started with grim calorie counting.
It wasnt just meals that changedSophies whole attitude soured. Once-funny chats and banter made way for prickly one-liners. Give her a compliment, and shed cut him off: Just tell me the truth! I dont need flattery!
Tom tried to explain he was being honest, but Sophie refused to listen. Her focus was setshe wanted to reach some imagined ideal. She tested a dozen dietsno carbs one week, raw veg the next, detoxing on nothing but water another. It was exhausting just watching.
Tom missed the old Sophiethe happy girl who used to shovel his shepherds pie with a smile. Now meals were an ordeal, with her picking at food and eyeing every bite suspiciously.
One evening, Tom came home to find a storm had been brewing. Sophie was marching around the kitchen, slamming things down.
Whats happened? he asked, tentatively.
Its your fault! she exploded. I cant manage this because of you!
Sorry, what? Tom, totally lost.
You always get that chef to make those fatty mealsyou know Im on a diet! But you still order all that tempting stuff. How am I supposed to stay on track?!
Tom tried to reason: But I want to eat properly, too. Why should I have to live on salad leaves?
That only made things worse. Sophies voice grew sharper and faster, firing off everything she felt was wrong: that he wasnt being supportive, that he didnt get how hard it was, that his eating habits were ruining hers.
Tom sat there feeling more and more worn down. He meant every word when he said he found her beautiful. But the Sophie he loved was gone, replaced by someone obsessed with counting calories and seeing Tom as an obstacle to her happiness.
He couldnt believe this was the same Sophieonly a short time ago shed been his angel, making him laugh, lighting up his days. Now she was edgy, fidgety, and almost impossible to talk to.
What was going to happen next? That question kept him awake at night. Keeping up with her new rules would mean losing himselfand how could he love someone who thought so badly of him, who saw him as the enemy?
In the end, they split up. Tom put it off for as long as he could, hoping things would go back to how theyd been. But every heart-to-heart turned into a row, every attempt at reconciliation just made things worse. Eventually, he realised this wasnt a relationship anymorejust two people trapped by old promises and new frustrations.
It broke him. He remembered the good daystheir first trips away together, home movie nights, quiet mornings. But Sophie, desperate to reinvent herself, had changed so much she was practically a different person. The woman in front of him wasnt the Sophie hed fallen in love withand it was clear she wasnt coming back.
Another fierce argument was the last straw. Bitter words, slammed doors, and finally, utter silence. Tom was left alone in the flat that still smelt of her perfume, with photos of the two of them smiling from the mantlepiece and her things hanging in the wardrobe.
The first weeks were agonising. Hed reach for his phone, ready to call, then stop himself. Sometimes he doubted his decisionmaybe he couldve tried one more time. But then hed remember the endless tension, the dead-end conversations, and hed realisethere really was no going back.
Six months later, tired of feeling stuck, Tom did something hed always thought was sillyhe signed up for online dating. He didnt expect miracleswasnt even hoping for love, really. He just wanted to feel less alone.
He scrolled for hours, reading profiles and checking out photos. Some women seemed too serious, others far too flirty. Some even looked like the old Sophie, but when they talked, they had nothing in common. Others were open and friendly, but he still found himself left cold.
It all came to nothing. He went on dates, kept up pleasant small talk, but it was all hollow. No one gave him that little spark, that buzz hed felt when he first met Sophie. The truth was, the problem wasnt with themit was with him. He hadnt moved on. He still looked back at those golden days with Sophie as if they were some kind of fairy-tale.
********************
Time helped a bit. Tom found a rhythmwork kept him flat out, he started seeing friends more, picked up his old hobbies. Sometimes the past crept in, but mostly, he was looking forward, not back.
One day, life threw him a curveball. Popping into a coffee shop round the corner from his office, he spotted a woman with a book, taking notes in a battered journal. Shed pause, take a look round, then smile to herself and scribble again.
Tom couldnt help himselfthere was something calm and approachable about her. She wasnt fussing about her reflection in the window or worrying about a single crumb on the table. When she caught him looking, she just smiled backunselfconscious and genuinely warm.
So, he took his shot. Sorry, you seemed well into thatdiary or work journal? he asked, aiming to sound breezy.
Both, I suppose, she replied, putting down her pen. Im working on a blog post. You work round here?
They got chatting easily. Her name was Daisy. She was a modelbut not the kind of model most people picture. Daisy did shoots for a clothing range designed for curvier women, clothes that actually suited real shapes. She often popped up on online catalogues, representing brands that ignored the fashion industrys obsession with stick figures.
The thing that struck Tom most was how comfortable Daisy was in her own skin. She talked about it so directly, yet with no bravadosimply as a fact.
I honestly think dietings mostly a waste of time and a sign that youre not comfortable with yourself, she said to him later, over lunch, after he gingerly asked how she always seemed so upbeat. I mean, if your GP says you need to trim down, fair enough. But when people torture themselves just for a certain dress sizeits just mad. I love my food, I love keeping active, I love my job. And I love the way I look.
Hearing her talk, so clear and unphased, made Tom smile. Itd been ages since hed met anyone so quietly sure of herself.
He and Daisy started spending more time together. She didnt expect expensive gifts or create drama, never sought reasons to have a dig. Conversation was a breezeand so was silence. She wasnt trying to change him, wasnt pushing her worldviews, but could still gently, kindly share her thoughts.
Tom felt the stress and heaviness from his failed relationship with Sophie fading away. With Daisy, he started enjoying the ordinary things againwalks in the city, kitchen chats late at night, laughing together about silly things.
Six months in, he knew he didnt want to wait any longer. One evening, at their favourite little café, he got out a small box and looked her straight in the eye. I want you to be my wife, he said.
Daisy froze, then burst out laughinghappy, carefreeand said, Yes. Of course.
They married quietly, nothing fancyjust friends and close family, everyone genuinely pleased for them. And you know what? Neither cared what anyone else thought. Their own happiness, built on trust, respect and simple warmth, was more than enough.
