Dear Bel,

I live alone – divorced over 30 years ago with no children – and feel greatly bothered by something that happened several months ago.

A man moved, temporarily, into my block of flats and we struck up a conversation. He seemed genuine, interesting, courteous and kind. Eventually we went out together to a local beauty spot. When we got back he invited me in for coffee.

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I agreed, but then he asked me to give him a cuddle – but when I thought it would be a gentle hug, his hands started to wander and then he grabbed my breasts.

I drew back, whereupon he laughed, grabbed my hand and put it on his crotch. I was really alarmed and got out of there quickly. A week later he texted to apologise and I answered politely but with no encouragement. I even refused to meet him in a coffee shop.

Then he went on holiday and brought me some little gifts back, and I thought he had learned his lesson so foolishly agreed to visit for a cup of tea. He lunged again – and I fled.

My problem is not being able to stop thinking about it and blaming myself.

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I feel mad at myself for allowing the lecher a second chance for inappropriate behaviour.

He’s moved away now, but it plays on my mind and I feel somehow tainted. Why didn’t I handle it better? Why can’t I forget it?

JANETTE

Bel responds:Your letter raises a perennial question: why do women still seem to blame themselves for the bad behaviour of the male of the species?

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Do we imagine that the cheeky chap is sitting in his new apartment worrying about the woman he insulted twice by assuming she was a goer just gagging for a lustful leap?

No, we don’t. Because by now he’s probably got his greedy eyes on some other female who lives alone and is just desperate to cop a feel of his manhood through his trews. Hmm… we can guess one way he thinks you could have ‘handled it better’.

Why are you blaming yourself for just being friendly? Yes, it was rather naïve of you to agree to that ‘cuddle’ without realising that he’d see it as a massive green light.

I’m sure there are men reading this who will accuse you of being a ‘tease’ (or whatever other term they wish to use); such guys usually tell me off for being a ‘man-hater’ or other such nonsense.

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The truth is, I have talked to so many women who have had an experience just like this (including me, by the way) and we always feel stupid when we think about what happened.

Perhaps you fancied the man just a little bit. What would be wrong with that? It’s quite feasible to guess that you liked him and thought it pleasant to have somebody like him as a new – albeit temporary – neighbour.

You probably imagined enjoyable outings with a new companion who might even gradually turn into a kindred spirit – not realising that his mucky mind was running on easy sex with a willing woman as hot to trot as he was. It’s not surprising you’re embarrassed to remember.

During the years of writing this advice column I have often been asked (when giving talks) about the difference between men and women who write in about relationships. I usually reply that in general women want conversation and tenderness, while men want sex.

Now, obviously there are many exceptions, so don’t write to tell me how wrong I am – just because you (woman) are up for as much lovemaking as you can get, while you (man) long for a cosy chat before cocoa and a good book. Just believe me when I tell you that you are the minority. My generalisation is based on life experience.

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Looking back at this incident, nothing really terrible happened, Janette.

You still have your dignity and independence and can hardly be blamed for misreading the man’s intentions.

Maybe, in turn, he can’t be blamed for making huge assumptions about your availability. People misread each other the whole time.

That was all just a ripple on the surface of your calm life, so please just let it go.

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I had a breakdown after losing four pets in a year

Dear Bel,

I’ve lost four pets – three rabbits and a cat – in a year. I’ve grieved for them and still can’t bear to think of their pain. And I am sick of being sad. I’m in tears typing this.

Things came to a head when I had what they used to call a nervous breakdown. My poor daughter had to take her mum to A&E where I learned a new phrase – ‘trauma dump’.

I dumped all my trauma on my daughter – but why? Because everything brought up unhappy memories from childhood and it all poured out in one hysterical torrent.

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I asked the nurse why, and she said one day your brain can say: ‘I’ve had enough.’

My family have in the past ten years experienced terrible, ongoing health problems.

How do I stop being such a misery? I know in the grand scheme of things my issues seem silly compared to what they are going through, but I cannot get a grip.

HELENA

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Bel responds:I’ve said it before – there is no ‘hierarchy’ of sadness to make me dismiss an issue some people might find trivial.

I can’t stand it when po-faced, judgmental readers (very few, by the way!) berate me for printing a letter they think unimportant. If you have a toothache, only you can know just how much it hurts.

Suffice it to say that your family woes go back some time, and have forced you to witness people you love suffer greatly.

Witnessing the dumb suffering of your animals tipped you over the edge, triggering memories. In my book about pet bereavement Goodbye Pet & See You In Heaven, I note that when distributing my dog’s ashes I couldn’t stop thinking about my stillborn second son for whom there is no grave.

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I wasn’t making any comparison, just noting ‘all the loves and losses of my life become one, intermingling and fusing for ever’.

It’s time to forgive yourself for being human and focus on the next step.

Have you thought of visiting a rescue centre to give a cat or a dog a wonderful new life? There’s a lot of love waiting there.

Am I mad for saying computers scare me?

I’m in my late 60s and know I am in a minority but have this real nervousness about doing things online. It makes me very anxious. I don’t have a computer, as I feel uncomfortable not knowing what I am dealing with. I did have computer lessons, but even after weeks of learning I still felt uneasy.

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Sadly, I’m on my own and sometimes panic when I see something unfamiliar on my phone. I know I’m out of place and feel brushed aside in this digital world, though many people older than me are quite comfortable with it.

I’ve tried to adapt but it’s hard, especially when you hear of people who have been scammed, or read about hacking. Am I mad to feel so worried about the future when everything will be online?

BILL

Bel responds:You’re far from alone. And certainly not ‘mad’. Even those of us who depend on our computers and interact with Facebook every day can be plunged into angry gloom at having to remember passwords, and trying to master online codes for just parking the damn car.

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I see people searching for their online tickets on the train or at the theatre and, waiting in line behind them, remember how easy it was when you held tickets in your hand.

In fact, I still choose to do so. I don’t ‘stream’ music and wonder what people will do when the internet is sabotaged by enemies – and they are helpless and lost without their fake online life.

I publish your letter in solidarity, knowing that many others will agree with you.

Smartphones do continual damage in proportion to their power over our lives.

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The internet (though very useful) is in the process of destroying whole sectors (like newspapers and magazines), as well as corrupting minds – and so I reckon you are pretty wise to worry about the future. But what can we do? Nothing.

So this is just a virtual hug for you, just to give you a little reassurance that somebody understands.

And finally… Sorry, but it’s dangerous to seize the day

Once, I noted down a quotation from the 1989 film, Dead Poets Society, which I loved. I hugely admired the character of the inspiring teacher John Keating – played by Robin Williams – a new English master at an elite boys’ boarding school.

Radical and imaginative, he teaches pupils the Latin expression ‘carpe diem’, encouraging them to ‘seize the day’, has them stand on desks to demonstrate ways to look at life differently and tells them to rip out the introduction of their fusty textbooks that explains a mathematical formula for rating poetry.

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Keating tells his class: ‘We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering… these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love: these are what we stay alive for.’

It’s an uplifting message and very seductive – which is why I wrote it down. But now, years later, I find myself asking whether it’s true.

Instead, I’ll pose this down-to-earth question: don’t most people ‘stay alive’ to be with and take care of those they love? Isn’t the self-sacrifice at the heart of such love beautiful than flights of poetic fancy?

And isn’t massive hurt and destruction caused – all too often – by the individuals who ‘live for’ the other stuff?

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Poetry, beauty, romance and love are very fine, but all the love affairs in history and literature have been caused by the overwhelming desire for beauty and romance – yes, even when the fulfilment of passion leaves bodies (literal and metaphorical) on the floor.

These days there’s too much emphasis on ‘feelings’ – often irresponsible and selfish. How’s about returning to knowledge and careful thought?

Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail,9 Derry Street, London W8 5HY, or email [email protected]. Names are changed to protect identities. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.