Recently someone on BlueSky asked ‘would 20 year old you be impressed or disappointed by who you are today?’. My immediate response was ‘both, in spades’. There’d be certain things about my life that she’d be wildly impressed by, others that might cause significant disappointment. But you don’t have to take my word for it, let’s ask her ourselves. Hop into my TARDIS and let’s go visit The Commercial Rooms – a sticky-carpeted Wetherspoons in Bristol city centre – in the year 2004. If I know this bitch (and I do), she’ll be somewhere in there drinking double vodka RedBulls, chain-smoking cigarettes and yearning for a boy we’ll call Adam.

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I walk in on him wanking, that’s how this fantasy starts. I’ve just got out of the shower, hair tousled and body lotioned so it’s nice and smooth with a slight slippery residue that makes everything shine. I open the door to the living room with half-formed notions of asking him to touch my tits to warm me up. Maybe invite him to come to the bedroom with me, roll around naked on the big bed in all that post-shower softness. But he’s already masturbating when I go in: hunched over on the sofa beating at his dick like it’s urgent that he drains out all the spunk.

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Here’s a dilemma. A conundrum. A thought experiment, perhaps? If you know you’re going to be shagging someone for the very last time ever, how do you do it? You know your relationship has to end, and will soon be over for good. The pair of you can’t go on like this any longer, it hurts too much… but fate has given you one last shot to do the thing you both love to do. So. The last time you ever fuck them, how do you fuck?

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I know I always bang on about how there aren’t any universal tricks to make your sex life better. There’s no ‘one simple way’ to please your lover in bed. But I’ve decided – after a decade and a half of sex blogging – that there is actually one change that would have a near-universal positive impact on everybody’s sex life. It isn’t something an individual can do on their own, it’s a choice we need to collectively make as a society. But we can make this choice if enough of us get on board. The one simple trick to give everyone a better sex life: Universal Basic Income.

Hear me out.

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For as long as I can remember, I have yearned for a partner. Even when I was too young to understand sex or romance, I pursued boys. With a relentless, aching need. I’m sure some of them could sense it radiating out of me. As a child, when a brand new boy would turn up in whatever context – playing with my siblings and I on holiday, or transferring into my class from another school – my whole being would suddenly snap into focus, laser-targeted on whether or not this one might be a possibility. As a teenager, I was obsessed with the idea of having a boyfriend, and although there was one boy I was wildly in love with, I knew deep in my heart that any boy would do. I just wanted to be loved. When I finally did secure a boyfriend – even though he was entirely unsuited to me – there was a powerful feeling of relief and accomplishment. I’ve done it! I’ve got one! I am wanted! Go me! I yearn for a partner, I always have done. I just really really want to be loved.

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