So.

His name is J and he's my boyfriend. And last night he called me his girlfriend. And it was weird, but in a good way. When did that happen? One day he was reading the Evening Standard in a wine bar in the City, and I just walked into his life. And now here I am. And now here we are.

And it's completely unlike anything I've ever had before. For starters, the old adage "he's not my type". No, but as my mum so wisely put it: Stella all of your type so far have hurt you or left you or cheated on you. She's right, of course - mothers always are. So no, he's not my type. Yet I think he's lovely and funny and kind. Which tells me perhaps I need to think long and hard about 'my type' going forward.

So I don't really know what I'm trying to say here apart from sometimes you just have to open your heart and life to whatever comes along? And on that note, I can't wait to see what the future has in store for us.