Everything I Know About Love: A Memoir

by Dolly Alderton

we were reprimanded a second time by our headmistress on Monday and scolded for “representing the school in a bad light” (this was often an accusation thrown at me during my scholastic years and it always struck me as a slightly weak takedown, particularly when I had never chosen to represent the school; rather my parents had chosen the school to represent me).

But I still think there were moments when those years of partying were a defiant, celebratory, powerful act; a refusal to use my body in a way that was expected of me. A lot of it was just a really good time on our own terms—many of the memories revolve around me and one of the girls leaving a situation we were bored of or didn’t like, just to spend time with each other.

I felt our relationship had been one of the most enriching experiences of my life and I knew he would always be a huge part of the person I had become, but we had outgrown each other. I knew I had to let him go so he could be with someone who really wanted to be in a relationship with all the love and commitment he deserved.

I would like to pause the story a moment to talk about “nothing will change.” I’ve heard it said to me repeatedly by women I love during my twenties when they move in with boyfriends, get engaged, move abroad, get married, get pregnant. “Nothing will change.” It drives me bananas. Everything will change. Everything will change. The love we have for each other stays the same, but the format, the tone, the regularity, and the intimacy of our friendship will change forever.

“It may seem that life is difficult at times but it’s really as simple as breathing in and out,” she read. “Rip open hearts with your fury and tear down egos with your modesty. Be the person you wish you could be, not the person you feel you are doomed to be. Let yourself run away with your feelings. You were made so that someone could love you. Let them love you.”

And if this is it, if this is all there is—just me and the trees and the sky and the seas—I know now that that’s enough.

Not everyone needs to navigate their insides with therapy. Absolutely everyone is dysfunctional on some level, but a lot of people can function dysfunctionally.

No one is ever, ever obliged to be in a relationship they don’t want to be in.

You probably don’t have a wheat intolerance, you’re just not eating wheat in a normal-sized portion: 3–4 ounces of pasta or two slices of bread. Everyone feels weird after eating a whole pack of bread; you’d feel weird after eating an entire watermelon in one go too.

You should have sex on the first date if it feels right. You should never take any advice from a sassy, self-help school of thought that makes the man the donkey and you the carrot. You’re not an object to be won, you’re a human made of flesh and blood and guts and gut feelings. Sex isn’t a game of power play—it’s a consensual, respectful, joyful, creative, collaborative experience.

My roaming decade; my roaring twenties.