Hugh Grant syndrome

Like Hugh Grant, I am 42, successful and single. I've never been married and have no children. While the rest of my friends settled down and concentrated on their families, I looked after me and my career.

I was arrogant and ambitious, I wanted to spoil myself, and women either fitted in or I told them to get lost. I didn't want to end up with 2.4 children and a white garden fence, I wanted a life less ordinary and I thought the only way I could do that was on my own.

Now, looking back, I realise a lot of my adventures would have been much better shared with a woman, even children.

This change of focus for me began when my sister had children. She has a girl, aged four, and a boy, aged two.

For the first time, I had responsibilities beyond myself. I often baby-sit these days. One night last month my nephew Oliver just melted my heart; he put his arm on my shoulder and said: "I really love my Uncle Marcos."

At that point I realised that, after 20 years of travelling the world and always putting my career first, life isn't about material wealth, it's about moments when your nephew says "I love you".

I may not be as wealthy as Hugh Grant but I have four cars, a huge house in west London with five bedrooms, which I rattle around in, plus a holiday home in Spain and a cupboard full of designer clothes. I can ski, ride, sail and fence and every year I go rally driving in Monte Carlo in the classic car race.

But, as my father keeps pointing out, what's the point of having all those possessions if you have no one to share them with, and lately I've begun to agree with him.

Hugh Grant says he suffers from nervous exhaustion and that he has "too much career; too little home life". I know what he is going through. Last October, I was working in America for a huge computer software company and was promoted to vice-president of international marketing. I had reached the pinnacle of my career, got to where I had always wanted to be - I had the flash car and wallet filled with gold cards. But it was an empty victory; I thought, so what now? Where next?

I was working 24/7, travelling three or four days a week and the only people who knew my name were air stewardesses.

I reached a point where I couldn't continue, I was too tired, too stressed. I said: "Enough is enough; I want to go home, not live out of a suitcase any more." I was never going to meet anyone like that. I looked back and all I could see behind me was a trail of broken relationships, brief encounters and lost friends. I suddenly found myself very alone. And I didn't want to spend another 10 years like that.

Maybe it's my age but I've finally realised I want my life back. Although I still work 12 hours a day and at weekends, I've shifted down a gear. I'm now in a much smaller company based in Wimbledon. It's a better atmosphere to work in and I'm director of consulting sales rather than vice-president. And last month I joined an agency called Gorgeous Get-togethers; that was a big step for me, admitting I needed to find some friends and women outside of my work.

It's been difficult so far trying to find the right person, probably because, until now, I wasn't ready to commit. I've also been afraid of getting it wrong. So many friends of mine are divorced. They're in the same position as me, but with a legacy. At least they have children, but I've seen the impact divorce has on those kids. I don't want to do the same.

You only get one shot at life. I've already missed out on the chance of giving my mother grandchildren as she has sadly passed away. Hopefully, I've still got time to make my father happy ... and myself.