Why I'm giving up crack cocaine

I went to uni and discovered feminism. And now I've got a dilemma.

Simone de Beauvoir, Helene Cixous, Luce Irigaray and countless others taught me that women could play any man's game - in fact, they could play it better than him. Previously, it was a man's world, written about by men, painted by men, run by men, reported by men. We were at home breeding (because biology stated that that was our purpose, remember?)

I absorbed this stuff like a sponge. Suddenly everything became clear - and very frustrating. Why was it OK for men to have one night stands but women were 'slags'? Why was a man slapped encouragingly if he had a string of conquests, while the woman was avoided in the street or left holding the baby?

Biology dealt us a lousy hand, and society was following suit. Men followed one rule (which they created), while women were under pressure to be the obedient little wives and mothers they needed us to be.

Young and idealistic, I internalised all these philosophies (which, you understand, are only summarised very briefly above). The more I learnt, the more I saw women were treated differently. Generally, men liked women who didn't threaten their egos, make them feel emasculated by knowing more than they did or being funnier than they were (have you noticed men often shy away from women who are surrounded by people laughing at her jokes as opposed to her bloke's?). Women who had the most success with men

1) didn't answer back.
2) didn't challenge their blokes.
3) basically looked nice and shut up.

Take my own love life. I have been the most attractive to members of the opposite sex when I've sat there looking pretty and laughed louder than anyone at his jokes.

But if you say what you really think, like 'that was a stupid thing to say,' or make a joke that's funnier than his, or outsmart him, you're breaking the 'women should be seen and not heard' rule that dates back to the Bible and is still deeply ingrained in our culture. And very quietly the admirers slip away. "She's hard work,' they think. And it's true, a lot of them would rather have a yes woman. Which I can't be.

So I did what every 21st century liberated woman would do. I opted for the fuck buddy. We've all done it. And sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. But it just seemed like an easy answer to sex without the problem of a relationship - where the fact that you say 'Oy, mate. Don't speak to me like that. A bit of respect wouldn't go amiss. Neither would a haircut...' and generally challenge his behaviour scares him, threatens his ego and sends him running into the arms of a petite blonde (or the opposite of whatever you are).

Friends, for a while I was addicted. Fuck buddies were the new crack cocaine. Anticipation, fun, instant high, but with none of the come down or work involved in a relationship. Except now I've come down.

Us 21st century tough cookies had to be just that - really tough. It was like wearing an iron mask of liberation. It doesn't matter if he doesn't call. Who cares if he's using you, you're using him!

But I'm tired of being tough. I'm going to admit my vulnerability and say that it does matter. It would be nice to have someone who cared. It would be nice to meet my softer side again and care about someone else's feelings. I'm tired of being so strong all the time, because underneath it all, I'm no Women's Lib radical. And I'm not sure it is even being 'strong'. It's merely avoiding the compromises you need to make for a relationship to work.

Single, yes. Single and happy? Yes. But virulently against the idea of a relationship? No. In fact, quite looking forward to meeting someone appropriate to break down my oh-so-liberated walls.

He'd better not expect me to do the washing up...