In my 20s by Kate Taylor

On December 17, 1992, I fell head over heels in love. I was 21, studying advertising, slim, neurotic and a sort of Goth-hippie crossbreed. I was ambitious and deliberately single - so, naturally, a man appeared.

Steve was a friend of a friend, and I first saw him sitting on the floor of the pub on the night university broke up. It was his jumper that I noticed - a glorious emerald-green number. I even went over to comment on it, squatting down next to him, probably drunk, and he asked if I'd give him a Christmas kiss. I laughingly refused, but accepted when he offered to walk me home. Yes, I was definitely drunk, as I remember singing through the streets. I've always been good at the beginning of relationships. I show an impulsive side that rarely appears again. So I dragged him through a hedge into a moonlit field, where we chased each other and slipped on the grass, laughing. We had that movie moment where we stopped laughing, just gazed at one another and kissed...

In my 30s by Tasmina Perry

I've always believed in the concept of relationship windows: that finite period of time when you can convert a sexy new acquaintance into a new lover.

But, scared of rejection, I've lost count of the times I've met someone interesting, gone for drinks and six weeks later found my new crush was my new best friend and the relationship window was well and truly closed. By the time I turned 30, I had a black book stuffed with eligible lawyers, writers, even a couple of male models - and barely a kiss between them. I told myself it didn't matter; I was editing a magazine, I was having the time of my life. But romantically? It was a wasteland.

Then I got a job on a men's magazine; the only woman staffer. My love life had to improve. The signs were good when I was invited to meet the guys at the pub before I started. I spotted John immediately. In a navy suit and horn-rimmed glasses, he was the image of every sexy writer fantasy I'd ever had. We discovered we had plenty in common: both 30, from the same town, and we had come to the city at exactly the same time to make it as writers. Slowly, we became friends...

In my 40s by Mariella Frostrup

There are many nasty phrases used about women approaching 40. "Desperate", "over-eager" and "past their sell-by date" are three of the most popular. I can't say I felt any of those things when a life that might be lived without a family and maybe even a long-term partner began to seem a possibility.

I was resigned, perhaps curious, as to how a woman so committed to the idea of family could end up alone. I was even a little excited about what this life would be like. So, when a trek in Nepal led to me meeting the man who made my life's original ambitions seem possible again, it came as a complete surprise.

It wasn't love at first sight; in fact, we bickered for the entire week in sibling fashion. But when we met up for a drink to look over holiday photos, he reached out and held my hand and it felt like a perfect fit...