The marriage of Jennifer Aniston and Justin Theroux has ended “lovingly”. How does that even work? “Get out of my life! (I love you).” “I never want to see your miserable face again (You lit up my world).” “Don’t pack my coffee maker – you thief! (We will always have Paris).” However, Aniston and Theroux are managing it and good luck to them. I wish them well in what may be their last shared quest not to end up becoming as annoying and smug as Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin, the celebrity couple who inadvertently proved that there can be such a thing as an over-civilised divorce.

In particular, good luck to Aniston, who, though she’s done a bit of acting, must now return to her proper day job of being described as “unlucky in love” in eight out of 10 articles written about her, the ninth usually written about her getting back with Brad Pitt (after approximately 13 years apart) and the tenth rudely insinuating that she is too old for bikinis.

Once more, “Unlucky in love Jen”, the lonely, desperate construct of our collective media imagination, must go forth from the ashes of her selfish, empty existence and represent all women who have also managed to balls everything up. And never mind that this appraisal of Aniston makes no sense whatsoever, and never has, or that her relationship trajectory could be assessed as “fairly normal”.

Just forget all that sensible obvious stuff. Henceforth, the public must be told repeatedly that Aniston is “unlucky in love”. Either that, or she gets back together with Pitt – there can be no in-between. That there may be many other options (romantic, professional, personal) open to this attractive, talented multimillionairess may be to suggest that women are autonomous, sentient, resilient beings who can get over a relationship ending and may not even need another one for a while. And then where would society be?