Oh god I actually almost feel sorry for her. Maybe because I’ve been there - well, no not really been in her situation where I’ve battered a boyfriend but been close to losing my tit so royally that employers/neighbours/acquaintances might get an inclination, that despite my best efforts, I’m a nut job.
So yeah, I kinda feel for the hot mess that is Caroline Flack. She’s got a job we’d all love and be good at (ok, look straight ahead and strut until you get to the sofas. Read cue card, flick hair, lick lips. Money will be deposited by Friday).
However, she hasn’t moved on from that difficult teen love period. I remember wild fights with my boyfriend at 16 and we didn’t even have social media in those days. Everything was so intense, my fears, my rages, were symptoms of ‘real love’ .
And then you grow up. Realise what you felt might be a sign of borderline personality disorder (only me feels this pain, this love so intensely and painfully). You get married, have kids and being insane on a Wednesday night because you drank too much or snorted too many lines becomes a bit lame. You’d never dream of dating a man years younger because they bring you back to those insecure times.
You‘re not Dorian Gray girl. Old age gets all of us in the end.