In therapy

I've never really had much time for all those awful self-help books that desperate women buy into. You know the myth propagated by Bridget Jones that all single 30-something women are sat at home with a copy of ‘The Rules’ and a bottle of Chardonnay on a Saturday night? Well I hate to shock you boys, but it ain’t true - we’re out having fun just like you lot.

I’m proud to say that the closest thing I have to a self-help title on my book shelf is ‘The Book of Answers’ - which is basically the literary form of a magic 8 ball and generally asked such profound questions as ‘Should I wear the lace-up black platforms or my black suede boots today?’ So taking my scepticism into account, you may well wonder how it is that I ended up spending my Saturday afternoon sat in a boardroom at the Ritz surrounded by frantically scribbling women at a seminar entitled ’The Secret Laws of Attraction’.

Ostensibly, it was because myself and my new Deputy Ed Laura had decided it could be transformed into a great feature about how to get the perfect marriage. Truthfully, it’s because neither one of us is capable of saying no to anything that is offered for free (she‘s a fellow Edinburgh-er, you see). Since Laura joined the magazine, a typical day for us goes thus: Slap-up meal? “Of course!” Bottle of champagne? “Sure.” A day at the Ritz and a free lunch? “Where do we sign up?”We also both secretly harboured ‘Sex-and-the-City-esque’ visions of ourselves stalking into the swanky hotel, all dressed up to the nines, and stifling our laughter as poor dishevelled single women in their forties poured out their tales of woe and desperation.Of course, that’s not quite how it went in the end.

For one thing, we soon realised that the seminar wasn’t at all a lecture on how to get the perfect relationship - it was a life-coaching session to teach people (yes, there was even a man present) how to attract success in every area of their lives.The coach was a New Yorker who had transformed herself from a steely high-powered banker, to a wealthy entrepreneur, wife, and mother - all after one day when she found herself weighing up what would be more attractive: going to work in her office or stepping out in front a bus!And what she had to say wasn’t the usual crap about the battle of the sexes, learning to love yourself, and meditating (barf). It was actually just basic common sense. The short version: how can you expect to achieve anything in the future when you don’t know what you want or need? And your life right now, here in the present, is a shambles?

Just by posing a few pertinent questions, she had us all realising what exactly it was about our lives that was falling short, how to go about fixing those things, and what our true needs and goals were. And believe me, the answers to all of these questions were not at all what I expected. Who knew that one of my top needs in life was simply ‘to be right’? (well, yes okay a few of you might have, but I had no idea!). Throughout the day, Laura and I, who had both arrived as cynical Scots, found ourselves enthralled, enlightened, and emotionally challenged, in a way much more befitting of soppy Americans.

Rather embarrassingly, there was even tears - for Laura it was reaching a realisation about a past relationship; and, rather unexpectedly, for me, it was frustration and anger at my brother that caused the sudden welling up. We soon realised that none of the women there were needy or pathetic - 50% were strong self-aware women seeking some kind of clarity in their lives and relationships, and the other 50% were blagging journos like us. Oh yes, and there was that one man - who I think may have been on the pull (smart guy).

When home-time came round and the coach kicked our asses out so she could take her kids to see the Lion King, I was so hell-bent on starting on my road to success that I very nearly cancelled plans to go to a party with a free bar, in favour of going home to make over my flat (I said ‘nearly’ - I’m not that stupid).

Anyway that was two days ago, and I’m already making headway in sorting my life out - my home is now spotless from top to bottom; my clothes are all clean, ironed and put away; my paperwork is all filed; my bills are all paid; and I have appointments with the bank, the dentist, and the optician. I’ve eventually accepted that if I’m ever going to be comfortable in my own home, I’m going to have to move out of this flat that my flatmate and his pyscho girlfriend have taken over, and I’ve started looking for a new place. I’ve resolved to do something I love every day, whether it be writing, dancing, or pampering myself. And perhaps most importantly for me, I’ve promised myself that I won’t be taken advantage of - not by my flatmate, not by my brother, and certainly not by another stupid boy.So far, so good - I just hope I can keep it up.

And if any of you can put aside your doubt long enough to just give it a go too, I swear you’ll be glad you did. Even if all it means is having a tidy sock drawer for a few weeks.

For more info, visit www.lifecoach.com or get yourself to Borders and buy either Coach Yourself To Success or The Secret Laws of Attraction (McGraw-Hill) by Talane Miedaner. Even better, buy both! (And no, they’re not even paying me to say this!).