Tag Archives: dating
Who is your ideal person?
Last weekend, in the hazy post-party chat that occurs just as the sun rises, one of my friends asked me: who’s your ideal person? Meaning ‘what kind of person would you like to end up with?’ She’s monogamous, so she frames it as one, but ultimately it can apply no matter what your relationship style: what kind of person do you think will bring joy to your sex/romantic life? Who do you think might be right for you?
Saying ‘no’ is not always easy
‘No’ is a complete sentence, sure. But if you get partway to shagging someone, saying ‘no’ can be genuinely difficult, especially if you want to give them an explanation for why you’ve changed your mind. I’m going to tell you about one of the most awkward ‘no’s I’ve ever said. It’s not the most awkward ‘no’, just one of them. It starts on the south bank of the Thames, around autumn 2020.
It’s hard for me to judge the tone of this piece, and editing it proved tricky. But just so you know up front: this story has a happy ending.
The date on which we did not have sex
We’re sitting on the sofa and my feet are on his lap. It’s late and I’m tired and happy – we’ve spent the evening laughing and drinking pints. I’m trying to do my best to be up front with men about what I want, so I told him I didn’t want sex tonight, just company. My feet are on his lap, and he’s stroking them. Firmly, casually, intimately. It’s comforting.
The best kind of bad dates
You might think that bad dates are – by default – an undesirable thing. The clue’s in the name – they’re bad dates! But although I’ll happily swerve terrible first dates where the person I’m with doesn’t ask any questions, or dates where they reveal ten minutes in that they’re a not-so-secret Tory, there’s one kind of bad date that will always have a special place in my heart.
I don’t know you well enough to be fragile in front of you
I’d love to come out with you tonight. You’re fun and funny and sweet and sexy and so many things that I like in a man. But I have to cancel, I’m afraid, because I don’t know you well enough to have a breakdown in your presence. Come back to me next week, when I’ll have finished crumbling. Come next month, when I’ll be well. In three months’ time, when we know each other better, and this stuff doesn’t seem quite so weird. For now, though, I don’t have the energy to be the sexy fun girl you’ve enjoyed on previous dates. Leave me alone for a minute. I need to be fragile in peace.