On average, a person who finds themselves in a relationship will suddenly realise two of their nearest and dearest will suddenly become not so close and probably even disappear from their lives altogether.

The researchers looking into the study theorise that it’s a matter of having enough time to spend with your friends.

Your new partner takes the place of one close friend, the other disappears as a casualty of not having enough quality time to go around.

But what if it’s because your friends don’t like your partner? Or your partner hates your friends?

My man and I recently lost a few friends because of their new partners. Disappointing, really.

At some point a person has to make a choice – the person they love or the people they’ve shared years of friendship and loyalty with.

It’s never a hard choice because love is blind and will win out every time when stumped up against a few good mates.

Usually, you wouldn’t say anything to a friend about not liking their new love interest.

Occasionally, though, your friends may have a hiatus with their partner.

I don’t like to say “break up” because that would be permanent. And as a friend, you need to keep in mind that it may not be all that permanent.

“Oh thank God!” you might exclaim to your friend. “I never liked her anyway.”

You get down and dirty in a good old bitch session about the ex with your friend.

You think you’re supporting them, helping them feel better about the break up. They spill all the most horrible aspects of their ex’s behaviour from over the years. You nod in all the right places, offer your advice and back them up 100%.

And then?

They get back together. Awkward much? It’s no wonder friends like that get cut loose.

A person in love can forget all the awful parts about their partner, about what may have happened over the course of the break up, so long as there’s not someone there to remind them.

A group of guys I know well went out one night and embarked on the abhorrent practice of grading girls out of 10 upon first sight.

When one of them hooked up with a girl, his best mate instantly wrote her off as “a three” and told his mate not to go home with her that night.

Of course, he’s married to the “three” now. I bet that makes for awesome dinner parties.

What to do, then, if your partner and your friends just don’t get along?

Remember that if your friends are the ones being haters, they’re probably just looking out for you. It’s amazing how our besties can be more loyal to us than we are to ourselves.

If your partner is the disapproving one, it usually stems from some sort of jealousy or insecurity, or perhaps your friends are behaving badly towards them.

A power struggle of sorts for your attention. Smooth it over as best you can and see if everyone will put aside their differences. Unlikely.

You can keep them apart, but that’s no fun.

Or – as most people seem to (sadly) opt for – you can let your friends go.

Had a friendship bust up over love? Hate your mate’s partner? Go on, vent in the comments. You know you want to.

This ‘How Was It For You?’ column was originally published on the Flirt Page of mX Newspaper on 8 October 2010. Emma writes a weekly column for the paper. You can see the back-catalogue here.

Don’t. Stuff. It. Up.

The pressure is on to make a good first impression. You want the venue to speak volumes about your taste, it also needs to be classy without trying too hard.

My dear friend E was taken on a first date to Nobu once.

Now that’s all well and good if you’re the kind of guy who loves good food and wants to show that he has some cash to splash, but what about in the unfortunate case where She’s Just Not That Into You quite yet? Nobu for a first date? Really?

All an expensive restaurant does is sound warning bells and send your lady running away as fast as her first-date shoes will take her. And it’s a lot of pressure. It’s not a nice feeling for anyone involved if the relationship doesn’t work out but one of you has blown a wad of cash.

Of course, if your lady of choice is eager, a showy restaurant might be just the way to win her heart. But using it as a first-date trump card is risky. How do you follow that up?

From Tetsuya’s to ten pin bowling? From Movida to the movies? I think not.

You’ve done yourself a disservice before the relationship has even begun.

You could always do something fun and exciting. But make sure you know your date well enough first.

As M says: “My worst first date was at Luna Park. Would’ve been fun for most people, but I’m terrified of heights. Even more terrifying were the questions from him about our future and how many children I wanted!”

Of course, under-doing a first date isn’t good either. There are always the jokes about being taken to McDonald’s for dinner. I’m not joking, though – it actually happened to poor Lady A.

Luckily for him, he was young and stupid at the time. He even called to apologise years later when he was mature enough to know better.

If you don’t know your date very well (yet), drinks at a cosy wine or cocktail bar is a great option.

Then there’s always the option to move on to dinner later and, if you’re just not feeling it: “Oh, I have dinner plans now so I have to go.”

No harm, no foul, no money or time wasted on a $300 degustation dinner.

But what to wear? When it comes to clothing, you want to cultivate the “I’m this hot without even trying” look – which, ironically, can take a lot of effort.

Plunging necklines on ladies will get you some attention, but wouldn’t you rather he spent the night gazing at your eyes and not your girls?

As a rule, jeans, a killer top and awesome shoes will be a winner every time, whether you’re a guy or a girl.

Roses, candles, love letters, chocolates… I’m a sucker for all the tacky clichés and I don’t care if it’s wrong. I don’t even want to be right.

When I was younger and more impressionable I also believed in soulmates.

That there was one person you were destined to be with forever. That would make you happy, connect with you on all levels, rock your world like never before.

But I don’t anymore. Like Santa and the tooth fairy, adulthood and a healthy dose of cynicism has quashed that fantasy.

The cringe-worthy ‘You Complete Me’ soulmate theory extends back much further than Jerry Maguire to Greek mythology when the philosopher Aristophanes theorised that humans once had four arms and four legs, and two faces on a single head, roaming the world in perfect contentment.

These super-double-humans were so powerful that the Gods were uneasy. So Zeus sliced them all in half and condemned them to roam the earth seeking their other half. Humans were never happy again until they were reunited with their missing pieces. That’s how soulmates were created.

I call bullshit on that one.

First of all, I don’t think there is just one person for everyone out there. Secondly, I believe soulmates can come in many forms – not just lovers. Friends, mentors, family. Some people you just click with.

Elizabeth Gilbert is the author of book (now-to-be movie) Eat, Pray, Love. In her opinion, the word soulmate, as we have come to know it is – in a word – toxic.

We have romanticised the sentiment when in fact it is a cover for nothing more than ‘infatuation’, which is a dysfunctional way to conduct a relationship.

“I don’t feel like my husband is my soulmate – thank God!” said Gilbert recently in a television interview. “I feel like he’s my husband. I have my own soul, he has his own soul. We are each others’ mates.”

This way, she says, they can walk forward together in life, side by side, looking ahead together, as opposed to being sewn together, introverted and inward looking, depending on each other like oxygen.

The idea that there is just one person for everyone, and when you find them they will be perfect for you in every way creates enormous pressure on relationships.

People wander around looking for ‘The One’, all the while disregarding wonderful partners because they aren’t ‘perfect’.

Journalist Lori Gottlieb recently caused a stir with an article urging women to ‘settle for Mr. Good Enough’.

Too many women, she says, end up alone because they were too quick to discard a man if there was no immediate spark, or because he didn’t tick all the boxes.

Or because they were fruitlessly waiting for their soulmate. The One.

No one person can or will ever complete you or make you happy.

But don’t worry. Prince Charming may not be coming, but there are plenty of wonderful people out there that may just be a mind-blowing match for you. You just need to give them a chance.

I’ve asked this before, but do you believe in soulmates?

Food and love have been linked since… well, probably since the dawn of time.

I’m sure the most romantic thing a caveman could do for his cavewoman was bring home a woolly mammoth and feed it to her by the cavefire, whilst lying on a sabre tooth tiger skin rug.

Actually, that’s not too far off the mark. While scientists are still debating the precise evolution of cooking, one new theory has stepped out of the stone age to challenge our notions of relationships and marriage.

Men and women bonded together around the ritual of providing food for each other. Men would protect the clan from animals drawn by the flames and the smells while the women would prepare the meal.

The time spent together in these pairs at night fostered time for relationships to grow. So, perhaps, was born the old cliché – the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

But even all these years later, it seems that good food equals great sex or at the very least, romance.

There are the movies like Chocolat, or Like Water for Chocolate which captivate audiences time and time again.

There are the foods that underpin great romantic moments.

I’m talking about strawberries, French champagne, Belgian chocolate and oysters. Caviar and vintage soft cheese. Ripe fruits. Whipped cream.

These foods are invariably decadent and rich. They’re impractical for daily consumption. They’re expensive.

All of which makes them absolutely perfect in the romance stakes.

A dining experience with a potential mate can tell you a lot about them.

Psychologists now know that (in general) men don’t like women who order a salad and then pick at it, not wanting to eat. Women hate men that snap their fingers at waiters. Both sexes are turned off by obvious displays of gluttony (Augustus Gloop, anyone?).

I know one thing. I love a man that can cook. Or better yet, bake.

I have recently had the pleasure of sampling many butter-heavy creations from a real life French pastry chef (with a real life French accent!) and if we weren’t both already romantically reserved, I probably would’ve kidnapped him and chained him up in my kitchen so he could bake me chocolate croissants all day long.

As it is, I’ve got my man who makes a mean spaghetti Bolognese but not much else. He did bake me a chocolate cake once from scratch and all the girls in the office just about swooned when I took it into work the next day and they found out he’d made it for me.

There’s no doubt about it, if you need to up the romance stakes in your life, the best thing to do is orchestrate a decadent dining experience.

A floor picnic on a rug in your lounge with crusty breads, good wine and a cheese board.

A dessert-only date in a quiet corner at an expensive restaurant.

A candlelit dinner over a homemade three-course meal laced with aphrodisiacs, or even just serving breakfast in bed with a rose on the side.

All positively delicious, all guaranteed to whet your lover’s appetite.

This ‘How Was It For You?’ column was originally published in mX Newspaper on Friday 13th August.

Me? I like to keep a bit of mystery going on in a relationship. Some things are best done behind closed doors.

Hell, I wouldn’t even reference my underarms in front of my husband, never mind letting him near them with a tub of hot wax.

I can happily tell you that in my entire life, I have never once whipped out a razor or wax strips in front of a guy. I don’t leave the toilet door open, belch or cut the cheese in front of Mr Man.

I’m a lady, dammit, and I’m more than happy if the men in my life have no clue how or why my legs get to be so silky smooth and hairless.

I figure it’s kind of like a tree falling in the woods: If no one is around to see it, does it actually fall?

It’s not that I think it would turn him off for life. I just like to keep a modicum of privacy about myself… and my hair removal tactics.

But as it turns out, I’m a bit of a prude when it comes to my attitude in this department.

A recent survey of 3000 women revealed that only 18 per cent purposely keep their beauty routine to themselves, even after getting comfortable in a relationship.

Seems most are happy to get around with their Nair on their legs, plucking chin whiskers or whatnot in front of their partner.

I admire the openness. I just can’t bring myself to do it.

It’s not a subject people take lightly.

When I wrote a while ago in a blog post that I found my husband’s glee in noisy bodily functions gross, one venomous commenter who thought I was particularly prudish wished him colon cancer so I could “learn my lesson”. Ouch.

Before anyone else jumps on that bandwagon I want to be clear: Let’s not wish anyone colon cancer over this.

It’s the lack of manners that gets to me.

I just don’t think “pull my finger” is appropriate dinner table conversation.

There are many – men and women – that will disagree with me.

Plenty of women are much more relaxed about their bathroom privacy, some even comfortable enough to, er, “go” with th door hopen or even, (shudder) with their partner in the room.

It’s a fierce debate that will no doubt continue to rage for eons.

“Door closed.” votes Lady V. “I mean come on, we’re not savages!”

I have to agree – I like to think we have options. We don’t have to have an open-door policy just because we feel comfortable with our partner.

And regardless of what eye-opening experiences you’ve shared with your partner in the past, perhaps reclaiming a small slice of privacy could be just the refresher your relationship needs.

I don’t spend much time on planes these days, though V does.

He moved to Sydney for work a year ago, while his partner still lives and works in Melbourne.

They fly back and forth as often as they can, running their relationship across the east coast, but mainly living independently.

The funny thing is, V and R aren’t the only couple I know doing this. Two more couples that I am very close to and are married also live in separate cities.

The common denominator in all these situations is work. They go where their jobs take them.

In a career-driven world, in the era of technological communication, where you can nab a flight interstate for $28 and where we can do business globally at the click of a mouse button, it is possible to run virtual relationships without ever living in the same city.

I guess it was always going to be the last frontier for the internet.

Businesses started outsourcing, then our friendships went online with the arrival of Facebook. Online dating is de rigeur.

So it’s only natural that with a little help from Skype and smartphones, there is a virtually ever after.

The long-term, long-distance relationship has come of age and gone online.

But what does this mean for couples?

It’s true that it’s easier than ever for long-distance to work, but there are still setbacks. No amount of fibre-optic cable can change the fact that you are apart.

“It’s not easy,” V admits.

“The constant travelling is exhausting. Not to mention, you’re always trying to fly out on a Friday night when everyone else is, and back on Sunday night when you really want to be relaxing and getting ready for work the next day.”

Footing the tickets for all that air travel can be expensive.

Then there’s covering two sets of rent (or mortgages) and buying new furniture for the second house.

If you are doing the long-distance thing (or thinking about it), experts recommend communicating as often as possible.

Keep it fresh by mixing the mediums – video chat, instant messenger, email, carrier pigeon…

Sending your partner gifts or handwritten letters is a way of being romantic when you can’t be there.

And beware expectations.

You may spend so much time missing your partner and building up the next time you see them that the reunions could be anticlimactic. And that can spell a-r-g-u-m-e-n-t.

Changing gear from virtual to physical contact might take some time to get used to.

But persevere – after all, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I’m wearing a dress today that I adore. It’s just a cheap and cheerful that I picked up for practically nothing a few years ago, and every summer I traipse it out happily, loving the fun watermelon colour and the vintage-inspired lattice cut-outs.

I know for a fact that it was a good find because every time I wear it, at least one girl comes up to me on the street to tell me that they love it.

It’s one of those little numbers that I feel great in every time I slip it on. Great, until – I see the look on Den’s face.

Guys. They hate this dress. It’s a baby-doll style, which just doesn’t seem to translate when you have a Y-chromosome. We think: “feminine and floaty”, they think: “pregnant”.

Other lost in translation trends include any outfit from Carrie Bradshaw’s collection, harem pants, boyfriend jeans, maxi dresses and of course, high-waisted pants.

I own a pair of those too. And almost every guy I know (do they conference on this?) calls me “Harry High Pants” to my face when I wear them. I insist they’re “classic”, they insist they’re “80s”.

It’s a decision ladies need to make on a daily basis: to dress for the guys or to dress for the girls?

The debate is not a new one. Who are we looking to impress when it comes to our wardrobes? Rationality would tell me that I would most want to appeal to my husband. If I was single and looking for a relationship, I would probably want to be dressing for men too.

My outfit choices often say different.

Biology plays into it too. A recent study found that – consciously or not – women dress more provocatively when they are ovulating. Advertising your fertility is a biological phenomenon throughout the animal kingdom, only we use fashion instead of having our butts light up neon like baboon primates.

So why do so many women insist on following fashion trends, when the only reaction we seem to be getting from your average man is ridicule?

Then again, if we did leave our fashion choices to the whims of red-blooded, hetero Australian males, would we be condemning ourselves to a lifetime of tight dresses and high heels?

The good news is, the men may adapt before we have to. Daniel Dykes of Fashionising.com is one of Australia’s most fashionable straight men and a self-confessed harem-pant-lover. He credits the internet with bringing more highbrow fashion to Australia and thinks men will just have to get used to a new fashion aesthetic.

“As Australian men see more and more gorgeous women trying fashion-forward trends, their idea of what is sexy will eventually shift.”

Perhaps fashion is just an acquired taste?

I saw an octogenarian couple crossing Swanston Street the other day. They didn’t even look as though they could negotiate the street without one another. The husband had a walking stick, the wife a hunched back. They were clinging to each other’s hands in support and care. And perhaps even from years of habit.

What is it about watching a little old couple show such affection for each other that tugs at our heartstrings? Picture the same old couple knocking socks in bed together and most of us would cringe.

Our modern society places so much importance on the aesthetics of life – attractiveness, wealth and social status all rank highly on our radars. But the chances are, that by the time you’ve hit 80, not a lot of these things are on your side anymore.

Which is probably why it’s incredibly moving to see two people that have lost so much of their youth, yet still have so much in each other.

Does it represent what we all really want when we’re old? Do we recognise on some level how lucky those two people are to have each other, after everything?

While it’s impossible to really quantify, some social researchers think that we don’t hold hands as much as we used to – people on the street seem more likely to have a mobile phone in tow rather than a beloved.

It seems a shame, as it is proven that holding hands connects you to your partner, gives you intimacy, reassurance and silent support.

It’s true that for younger generations, the act of holding hands is more intimate than a kiss – a young couple is most likely going to have a quick pash in a dark club long before they progress to holding hands.

I still remember the first time Den held my hand. We had been a casual affair for about 9 months – we weren’t dating, we weren’t exclusive, we literally were good friends with benefits and not much else.

One night, we took a stroll and Den was (unbeknownst to me) trying to summon the courage to ask if we could make it serious. He grabbed my hand as we walked – shocking me in the process.

After months of us sleeping together, it was the hand-holding that seemed overly intimate. What makes me think there’s something wrong with that sentiment?

Back to our little old couple, as I watched them I was struck by how it’s becoming rare to see couples even make it to their golden age of marriage. Maybe it’s the couples that do hold each other’s hands that make it there more easily.

I don’t believe in the ‘set up’, and especially not since one of my best friends, N. sent me on a blind date.

On paper, it should have worked perfectly.

He was cute, fun and intelligent, as promised. He even had just the right amount of eccentricity to keep me interested (I love a bit of quirkiness… past flings of mine have included a Reiki practitioner and a macrobiotic vegan).

N. certainly had my type pinned. Why wouldn’t I take a recommendation from her?

We did click. We even had a pash at the back of a dark bar later that night. And then it started to get weird. We hadn’t even wrapped up the date when…

“I can’t wait to introduce you to my parents.” (Wait, what?)

“We’re going to be so happy together, we’re perfect for each other.”
(Sorry, I can’t hear you over the alarm bells in my head!)

And then, after I had escaped to what I thought was the safety of my own home, the phone calls started. Legions of them.

I was forced to have a break up conversation with a guy I had been on one date with. Not that that put a dent in his phone-stalking. An age later, he must have realized I hadn’t taken any of his calls for months, and they stopped. As for what I had to tell my friend about this “great guy” she’d set me up with… Awkward much?

Now, I know I’m not the only one with a story like this to tell. In fact, I couldn’t find a single happy set-up story (Do email me if you have one; we’re all dying to hear it.).

I heard tales of girls turning up at apartments late at night with no invitation after only one date, abusive phone calls, broken hearts and well-meaning matchmakers caught in the middle of it all.

My theory is that you should never set people up, because no matter how much you may adore your friends, you have no idea what your friends’ moral love codes are. They can’t necessarily be trusted when it comes to relationships.

I have seen some of my dearest, most wonderful friends turn to a quivering heap of hormones and emotions around a new love interest.

If you do find yourself caught in the middle of a friend that wants to set you up, you can first try diplomatically telling them you’re not interested.

If they’re insistent, try a group scenario rather than a one-on-one set up. Your friends will make a great buffer for the night and if you hit it off, then great! But if you decide you don’t like your potential flame, then you can walk away at the end of the night – no harm, no foul.

This column was originally published in MX News on Friday 5 February 2010.