The Girl I Met at Electric Picnic, and the Life I Came Home To
I met her on the Saturday evening at Electric Picnic, in that strange golden hour when the fields look softer than they really are and everyone seems briefly convinced that life can…
I Said Yes Because I Was More Afraid of Silence Than of a Bad Marriage
I used to think marrying the wrong person meant there had to be some terrible warning sign I ignored. A secret life, a cruel streak, a betrayal everyone else could see coming.…
He Said It Was Only One Night, But It Changed All of Us
I used to think betrayal would arrive loudly. I imagined slammed doors, lipstick on a collar, some dramatic proof left behind by accident. In the end, it came to me in a…
Our Meet up Turned Into Twenty Years of Regret
I was twenty-six when I met her, on a wet Thursday night in Dublin, the kind of night when the city looks like it has been varnished. The pavements shone under taxi…
The Woman I Met at a Galway Pub Never Left My Mind
I met her in Galway on a wet Thursday evening, the kind of evening that makes every pub window look like a small rescue. I had gone west from Dublin after a…
I Lost myself on beach and Lost My Heart Too
I was twenty-two when I met Maeve, old enough to pretend I understood myself and young enough to confuse longing with destiny. I had moved to Dublin for a job I was…
She Kissed Me Goodbye and Married Another Man
I used to think a kiss could only mean one thing. I was twenty-seven then, old enough to pay rent on time and pretend to understand wine lists, but still young enough…
The Affair That Started During the Dublin Marathon
I did not go into the Dublin Marathon looking for anyone. I went into it looking for the version of myself I had lost somewhere between mortgage payments, office lunches eaten at…
Did My Husband Loved Me but Desired Someone Else? Really?
I used to think love had a shape you could recognise from a distance. It would be the two of us at the kitchen table in our flat in Phibsborough, his hand…
My Husband Loved Me but Desired Someone Else
The first thing I noticed was not the message itself, but the way Ciarán’s hand moved to cover the phone. We were standing in our kitchen in Portobello, the room steamed up from the pasta…