I know, it’s absolutely absurd, but the idea of getting intimate with someone new instils a certain fear in me, and I'm convinced men have thought I'm just not interested and given up entirely. Instead of resorting to the “It's not you, it's me” line, it's so much easier to drop off the radar without an explanation. If my hair turns me off, I dread to think what it would do to them. In fact, I learned the hard way that honesty is most definitely not the best policy on my sixth date with a gorgeous, 6ft2, bearded police officer I'm pretty sure I may have fallen for – until he never returned my messages. When he asked why my arms were red and blotchy, I explained I'd had an IPL session to reduce the hair that morning and he recoiled in horror. "Your arms are that hairy? That's actually gross."