Dear My Future Red Head

Dear My Future Red Head,

I guess this is an advert calling all potential love interests. The idea came as a result of many conversations I’ve had with friends. We figured if we got the word out there, I wouldn’t remain a single pringle forever. So, here goes…

The first box you have to tick is your gender. No offence guys, but I’m just not into you – you’re ace, but you don’t have tits. I’m sure you have better things to do with your Sunday evening, so stop scrolling and go and pick up your dirty boxers from the bathroom floor. Girls, carry on, as long as you’re not untidy that is.

I keep saying I’m going to find myself a “hot chick”, but as everyone keeps pointing out, that’s open to interpretation; I should probably explain what my type is. The first clue is at the top of the page, although, it’s not a necessity. It’d help if you’re Irish too, preferably from Dublin. It’d mean that my friend, who’s just moved over there, could hunt you down. I have a feeling she’d be quite a matchmaker. I love the Irish accent; you guys always sound super cheery, even when you’re talking about mass murder. Again, I don’t want to come across as overly pernickety, but wherever your hometown is, make sure I can understand what you’re saying because I unintentionally mimic accents within seconds of speaking to someone and I’d still like to understand myself.

The one thing you should probably know about me is that I’m a short arse; 4ft5” to be exact. I’m also on wheels and therefore I’m sitting down 90% of the time, so a leggy 6ft2” supermodel, might look a bit weird. But then I am a bit weird; hey, anything goes. Actually, maybe a supermodel wouldn’t be right for me. I’m a jeans and t-shirt kinda gal – please don’t be dressed up to the nines all the time. I’d rather you weren’t the butch type though.

Speaking of wheels. I have Quadriplegic Cerebral Palsy. In short, this means I have wonky legs and a spazzy left arm. There’s nowt wrong with my brain though. If you’re okay with being in an inter-abled relationship (the new-fangled term for you having use of your legs and me having use of a chair) then you’re a keeper. I would never want my partner to become my carer, so if you’re gonna go all mother hen on me, then jog on. Having said that, if you’re not okay with taking me for a pee every now and again or helping me out in some other way, perhaps we ain’t right for each other. My disability means I do things in unconventional ways and I generally figure things out as I go, so be prepared to think outside the box. Yes, this counts for sex too – my legs are like ironing boards and tight as hell, so we’ll wing it and just hope I don’t fall over in the process.

I love animals. Giraffes are the reason for living. If this isn’t you, don’t bother getting in touch.

Above all though, be yourself – individuality and diversity are the keys to life. Be up for having a laugh; prewarning I laugh so hard I pee. My life is a chaotic whirlwind, so be aware that things will get crazy at times. Just go with it – life is nothing if it’s dull. Don’t worry if my parents don’t like you at first – they’re grumpy sods, but they’ll get used to you. All my friends have a screw loose, hence why we get along. Be down for some bizarre conversations and some deeps ones. We have wild adventures. We sit and ignore each other in front of the telly. Why not come for the ride?

Applications will be reviewed and responded to in due course. No previous experience is necessary.

June 9, 2019 9:13 am

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