The other day, I fell for a stranger. I choose my words here carefully. ‘Fell for’, not ‘fancied’ or ‘desired’. ‘Fell’, like you would if you slipped on a banana skin. Fall as in pratfall. But also fall as in ‘fail’. Perhaps this fall wasn’t a trip or a stumble (cue laughter track) but something more dismal, like a ‘fall’ off the edge of a cliff in a climactic episode of Eastenders. When I told this story to friends over WhatsApp, with a winky face and what I thought was a killer punchline, half of them reacted with sympathy. One asked if it was meant to be funny or sad. It was meant to be funny, but I guess if that isn’t obvious I should ponder why my friends are responding to the comedy of my life like it’s a tragedy. Maybe I should look a little closer. Let me tell you a story about falling for a man I’ve never met.

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Here’s a kiss I’d really love to have: the oh-fuck-we’re-about-to-miss-our-tube kiss when we get kicked out of the pub at closing time, having overstayed our welcome because we got stuck into a fun discussion. We know that we both want to fuck but early morning meetings make that impossible tonight, so we give each other the kind of snog that’ll leave the other person hungry for next week’s follow-up liaison. That’s one of the kisses I’m hoping for when you message me on a dating site.

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Note: this piece tackles some stuff about femininity, womanhood, and ‘worth’. I do not believe that any of the things I say about ‘good girl points’ are true and I don’t encourage you to believe or internalise them. But as with all weird notions, sometimes you have to state it to slate it, so I’m allowing myself to be a bit more open about the dark beliefs that power a lot of my decisions, especially in light of some Twitter discussion I’ve seen about why you shouldn’t just keep trying to be ‘good’ and ‘liked’ all the time. Rest assured I’m working on these things.

The other day, at about 11pm, a guy offered to walk me to the train station. We’d been having a lovely evening together – eating dinner that he’d cooked for me because he knows it’s one of my favourites, watching a weird film that we’d chosen together because he cares about my opinion, then enjoying a teasing blow job because when we started getting horny I specifically requested that he let me be ‘playful’ for a bit. It was fabulous. I felt very content. Very… what’s the word? Very heard. Valued. Appreciated. But when it came time for me to head home, he offered to walk me to the station, and this objectively kind gesture made me deeply uncomfortable.

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I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times someone’s removed my bra with dexterity and skill. It just doesn’t happen very often. There’s a reason for this: bra hooks are pretty tricky to handle! When I was younger I think I bought in to the propaganda that a guy who was ‘good in bed’ would be able to magically unhook my bra one-handed while we were making out, without any fumbling whatsoever. But that’s bollocks. Nowadays, I think that the hottest way to remove a bra isn’t to fumble with it, or even dispense a little quick-fingered wizardry. The sexiest and most efficient way to remove my bra is to just tell me to take it off.

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I know a lot of the time I tell you what an incompetent shithead I am but recently I realised something. In terms of online dating, my ‘hit rate’ (i.e. my ratio of dates attended to men I have actually liked) since I broke up with my ex is pretty high. By which I mean I have been on a few physical dates after contact on The Apps, and broadly I’ve liked all the men (except one – he didn’t ask me any questions, and that was very annoying). I might find The Apps themselves tedious, and moan about having to go back on them when I find I have a slot on my dance card, but when you examine the raw numbers there’s no getting round it: I am fucking exceptional at dating. Today I am going to share what I think is a key aspect of my dating strategy with you, and pretend I am much cleverer than I actually am by explaining how to write the best online dating profile. Get ready to be wowed.

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