Hi guys. So you’re probably not wondering why I’m writing this column, because I do it every week. However, my life’s been a bit of a rollercoaster over the past couple of years. Losing out on promotion to senior account manager in 2011 was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to deal with.

Honesty is something I really don’t believe in. Otherwise I wouldn’t be working in PR. And one thing I’ve never felt that comfortable talking about are my relationships. Largely because it’s difficult to keep up. I mean, I’ve been dating guys, but I’ve never really had a serious relationship, or rather an enduring one, to talk about. Come spring this year, my life changed massively when I met someone and they make me feel so happy, so safe and everything just feels great.

Well, that someone is a journalist. A Daily Mail journalist. It did take me by surprise a little bit. It was never in the back of my head that something like that could happen. Of course, I still fancy PR men (when I can find them) but right now I’m dating a right-wing hate peddler, and I couldn’t be happier.

People will think, what would your dad say? Well, frankly he would have preferred someone from the Telegraph. My mum’s been so supportive, but then, like all our mums, she actually reads it. I told the rest of my colleagues today and let’s just say they had mixed opinions. “Have you gone mad?” was the most common question, though.

I just wanted to make sure I got to tell you guys before I head off to Verbiers for Christmas. I’m glad I’ve got it off of my chest. With which my journo beau seems rather fixated.