The thing about us girls is, we just don’t get over stuff, do we? Especially not as quickly as boys might like us to. Pete could never understand why I couldn’t just put all that messaging shit behind me, but it proper hurt. Plus, because I’d never got over everything properly in the past, my disastrous time with Pete didn’t heal me. It actually did the opposite – it opened up all the old wounds, brought back all the hurt I’d felt over The Dip and stupidly sent me running back to him.
If Pete and I had treated each other normally and nicely, and then just grown apart, it might have all fizzled out gradually. I’d have grown up, carried on doing my own thing, gone on another show, whatever. Instead, I was propelled back to those Nu Bar days, and to how bad I felt throughout that time. I definitely felt like I had something to resolve from them days. Let’s be honest, I never really got over The Dip, probably because I covered it all up by being on the telly, jumping from boyfriend to boyfriend, getting smashed every night, screaming my head off and then going out with Pete. What I SHOULD have done was go to therapy, learn why I let myself down all those times in Nu Bar and beyond, been fully single for a while and then finally done some telly. Oh well, live and learn and all that.
Soon after Pete and I officially called it a day, I rang The Dip and said straight away, ‘I want to talk to you.’ I told him I loved him. I never said I wasn’t dramatic!
It must have been a weird call to get. I hadn’t spoken to him in ages. I hadn’t even been in contact with him since our reunion in Sheesh all those months before, but it was time. I don’t know why I chose now, but that’s how it happened.
I said, ‘I can’t stop thinking about you. I have dreams about you.’
He said, ‘Do you want to come over?’
Just like that, me and him began again. We had a chat, went for a dinner and got spotted. And so, before we’d even paid the bill, we’d given everyone something to talk about and, once more, my private life was about to become very, very public.
Being on TOWIE was getting harder and harder for me. Ever since I’d started, I’d always been painted as the bad girl, so this was the perfect opportunity for all those people who’d never been my biggest fans to tell Pete, ‘Told you so.’
Meanwhile, he was sitting there, looking all hurt, venting about me getting back with my ex-boyfriend so quickly. He accused me of throwing him under the bus, telling everyone, ‘Only one of us was in this properly,’ which wasn’t true at all, I did give my all to that boy, but there was nothing I could say.
It was also quite bad luck from the timing aspect, and frustrating because they just kept focusing on ‘Poor Pete’. Plus, other people kept talking to the papers, saying the cast were ‘turning on me’. Sorry to say, but that was bollocks! The cast had never turned to me to begin with.
Another problem for me was that I always made good drama on that show. People who didn’t even know me piped up with their opinions, cos they knew it would get them airtime. There was some new girl – desperate to get herself some attention – who suddenly came out with this stuff, saying she’d seen me and my ex out for dinner ‘all over each other’. Firstly, I’m not someone who does PDAs, and secondly, she didn’t even know me – she didn’t know what I’d been going through with Pete, or when it ended. But she still had her little moment, slagging me off. Oh well, good luck to her!
And then bloody Gatsby threw in his oar, saying he had ‘evidence’ I’d cheated on Pete. Evidence? Unbelievable. And then Arg apparently confirmed it. What? I couldn’t believe all these people were busy making up stuff about me. Even The Dip himself gave these boys a phone call, clearing it up, that I had not cheated on Pete with him.
Pete couldn’t help himself, either, telling Lockie, ‘The more I hear, the more closure it’s giving me.’ It was like there was this great pile of betrayal by me that he was slowly uncovering. The whole thing just made me sick to my stomach.
I did whatever I could to defend myself. I explained to the girls, ‘I’m single, I went for dinner with my ex-boyfriend and I had a good time. I haven’t done anything wrong.’ At least I waited until I was single, unlike Pete.
I wanted to scream at them, ‘I was a good girlfriend, I didn’t cheat, I got hurt, I cried so much over that boy. Now, I’m just enjoying myself. I’m going for a bit of dinner.’
Meanwhile, Pete had his Oscar-winning moment with Lockie. He said to him, ‘The more stuff I hear and the more you look back on something… I’ve wasted two years of my life feeling like shit. I’m half the geezer I was, I’ve allowed myself to be dictated to and act in a way that’s never me by someone who’s not worth it in the first place. I don’t want to see her, I don’t want to hear about her, fuck her.’
It made me so angry. I really did try with him. He fucked up. End of.
Meanwhile, The Dip… well, obviously, we were back in touch and doing our own thing in private. He apologised for everything that had happened before, for being too young and seeing me all heartbroken. He apologised for not being grown up when it mattered.
Basically, The Dip sold me the dream. It was all very romantic – it felt like we were back in love and this was how things were always meant to be. I was staying with him a lot, he was saying all the right things, and then…
It’s hard to put into words. He seemed to be living the same life we’d been living before, but I’d changed. I had a wake-up call one morning, and thought, ‘That’s not my life. I’ve grown up. I haven’t gone through all of that for this.’
Also, a few articles had come out, by some fame-hungry girl, saying he’d left her for me and they’d been texting. He said she was lying, and of course I believed him. A few other things happened, I felt like he hadn’t changed and I was just so over it and drained by now that we broke up.
I left his house, and, normally I would’ve been running back, possibly a bit drunk, probably shouting, demanding to be let back in, but this time I just didn’t want to. I’d kept the fire burning for him all that time, had wanted him for so long, but now I had him, I just didn’t want it. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
I know I needed to go back to him to find out for sure, and it made me realise two things. One: that Pete wasn’t the right person for me. And two: that I had truly loved The Dip, but I didn’t love him any more. I’d grown up, he hadn’t, and now we were in two different lanes, so it was never going to work. It was sad, but it was done.
I left his house, and he didn’t come out. I realised that could be my other life – me always knocking at his door to sort it out, still basically knocking at that same door after all these years. And I couldn’t. I phoned my mates and said, ‘No more.’ They didn’t believe me for a while. Fair enough!
At that point, I did take myself off to therapy. It was helpful offloading all my shit, especially to someone totally independent. It also gave me a chance to clear my brain, and it reminded me of what I really want in my life, which is to be creative and successful through my music.
Would I recommend therapy? Definitely, but I’d also recommend hanging out with your mates, your family, the people you totally trust. It all helps.