Sex and Relationships: 1

Considering I am madly in love and in a healthy, stable relationship, I have decided to start a new column as a replacement for the beloved Dating and Dickpics. So welcome to the new column! Quite simply, this is going to be about sex and relationships. I’m more than happy to take questions or suggestions as to what I should write. You can either leave a question in the comments below the previous post or contact me on Facebook or Twitter if it is easier and I shall write about whatever you have suggested.

The idea for this column actually came from a friend who asked me a question a long time ago. I was going to go on Youtube to address it but writing is my forte so I chose to blog instead. The question? Well, that’s today’s subject.

Can you be a feminist and partake in BDSM?

In one word? Yes.

I understand the argument against it. BDSM is about someone being submissive and someone being dominant, so how can that be fair? Well, if it sexually pleases you, does it matter? So long as everyone involved is consenting and you put safe words in place, discuss what your hard limits are etc., it’s all good. And sometimes that means that, if you’re having hetereosexual sex, a woman will be dominated. But so long as she’s consenting and she wants to be a sub, where’s the harm in that? Sure, it might perpetuate the unhealthy myth that women have sex done to them and it’s something that happens to them but if it’s what they want, they should go for it. Many in the BDSM community argue that it is actually the sub who has all of the power because they can say what they will not do, what’s too much for them and such so in a sense, they dictate what happens, how much of it happens and when it stops. And if you’re with someone who doesn’t respect the rules, you should leave them because if they don’t value your consent and your wishes, they’re being harmful and violating the terms that you consented to. Sex is a two-way thing where everyone should be respected and consent can be removed at any point. So long as the sex is safe and within the limits of what you want to do, I don’t see how it could ever conflict with being a feminist. Personally speaking, both myself and my boyfriend identify as feminists and we don’t see any conflict between our social and political beliefs and our sex lives. We do what we want but in a respectful way with lots of communication. Communication is key to having good BDSM!

Is there anything you would like me to write about? Comment below or go to my Facebook or Twitter!

Dating and Dickpics: Episode 13

13. Unlucky for some. But as someone with seemingly endless bad luck, I like to think 13 can signify some sort of change.

Well, unfortunately, there’s no change here. I was recently at work on a Wednesday morning, quite happily tapping away on my keyboard and coding paperwork, minding my own business and listening to Drake (obviously) when my phone vibrated against the cool, hard wooden desk I’d placed it on. I figured it was one of my friends trying to arrange plans for the weekend so I didn’t hesitate to open it.

It was an anonymous dickpic.

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Scarred for life

I’m not entirely sure what’s worse: a dickpic from a man you know or a dickpic from a complete stranger. Both are intolerable in my eyes and both are embarrassing but perhaps more so from the stranger because they are under the false illusion that somehow, their penis is so magnificent and aesthetically pleasing that you will jump on the next tube to their place naked.

I told the dick in question that his actions were repulsive and that I was not interested. I told him the sight of his ghastly manhood made me want to vomit. He proceeded to call me a whore. Right, I’m the whore. You’re the one who sent a picture of your genitals to a stranger, but I’m the whore. I preceded to destroy his logic by telling him that clearly he’s the whore out of the two of us because he’s so desperate for sex that he’s flashing his penis to an anonymous person. He then used some colourful language and after telling him to have a quick one-two pump in his hand because that’s all he could manage, I blocked him.

Lesson? I will always call you out on your bullshit and I will always have the last word if you dare disrespect me.

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Queen of Effortless Clapbacks aka me

There was another guy who decided to stumble his fuckboy-ways back into my life. He texted me after months and months of silence. His excuse? He’s ‘choleric’. In case you wondered, he’s talking about one of the Four Temperaments which have been wholeheartedly disproved. This was his oldy-worldy way of saying ‘I’m a fuckboy and I’m only messaging you because I want sex and for some reason, I think that I’m so special you’ll break two and a half years of celibacy for me’.

Any guesses on how I dealt with that?

Did I:

  • A: Express my wonder at him texting me again and partake in some polite conversation?
  • B: Make it crystal clear that I am looking for something serious, not a party in my pants?
  • C: Explain how much of a fuckboy he is, only for him to beg for another chance?
  • D: C, but sass him down and block his sorry ass?

The answer is D, because I don’t suffer fools gladly. I was a little shocked that he had bothered to text me but then again, if a fuckboy wants sex, they will magically remember the number of anyone they ever met with a pulse. I don’t think he actually remembered me. He did vaguely describe the night I met him but I really could’ve been any girl he met in any bar in London. He was horny and desperate. I am neither of the two and I have exacting standards.

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I’ll call you out if you’re a fuckboy

Remember how earlier on I was talking about how 13 is unlucky for some? It seems that this installment of D&D shows a change in luck, for I was recently with someone who met my exacting standards. We spent some time together and it was absolutely magical. It was, quite simply, the best weekend of my life (and I’m happy to say he also enjoyed it). He’s a good friend of mine and someone I feel extremely comfortable with. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. I don’t have to be perfect. My imperfections aren’t a big deal to him. He makes me smile uncontrollably and laugh like a complete goofball. The best bit? I managed to successfully introduce him to my real, true love, Grey’s Anatomy. It’s all very early days but I’m excited and for once, I’m happy. Long may it continue. And although I love all of my readers dearly, I hope this is the last Dating & Dickpics I have to write in a very, very long time.

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It wasn’t as cheesy as this but considering I’m a 20-something Bridget Jones, this picture seemed appropriate (note: I am cheesy)

Dating and Dickpics: Episode 12

As you can tell, my quest for love is still ongoing as we are now into our 12th episode of the tales of my tragic love life.

The past month has seen many different changes and dates. I have a new job which I’m looking forward to starting so I’ve been out and about a fair bit before I settle into the routine of the 9-5 life. I’m also writing a book! That’s the most exciting news, really. It’s going to take me a while but I’m chipping away at it every day. I’m actually shocked at the level of self-discipline I have. I mean, I’ve even held off watching Grey’s Anatomy because I dedicate my afternoons to writing, leaving evenings for watching TV.

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It seems like I do have a story and it’s getting published

Unfortunately, I haven’t had the same luck in my love life. I gave a guy I dated once a second chance…and he blew it. He contacted me recently after going AWOL for a few months. I told him that yes we had chemistry, but I was still unsure about him because he just disappeared and went radio silent for months. He told me he still liked me and wanted to take me out on a date so I agreed. Everything was fine, even up until the night before. We were talking and he was saying just how much he was looking forward to seeing me the next day.

I woke up the next morning feeling positive. He hadn’t called or texted to say he couldn’t make it so the date was still happening. I picked out my outfit, got ready and headed off to the tube station to hop on the next train to King’s Cross. When I was around 10 minutes away from that tube stop, I texted him saying I was on time and I’d meet him at Covent Garden at 3.30pm like we had agreed.

Then shit hit the fan. He texted me, telling me not to ‘leave home’ when I clearly already had. He said he was still at work. I asked what time he was going to finish — if it was a couple of hours, I could easily kill time in a bar or something. No, he was going to finish at 5pm. I told him I could do some shopping and wait until he was ready, then we could just grab dinner and some drinks. He said no, that we should reschedule and he would be too tired and too moody to go on a date after work.

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REALLY?

So let’s get this straight. He knows it takes me an hour to get to King’s Cross. He knew I would leave my house at 2.30pm. He didn’t inform me then that in fact, he couldn’t leave work at 1pm like his boss said he could. He would’ve known by 2.30pm that he was working late and couldn’t make the date. So why didn’t he inform me? I was livid. I’d wasted all that time and make up and he had actually stood me up. I’ve never been stood up in my life. I was so fuming that I was on the verge of tears (I do that annoying angry-cry thing). It was so rude, unacceptable and inconsiderate. I turned around and made my way back home. On my journey, I texted him and told him he shouldn’t dare to contact me again, that he’s a fuckboy and no, we won’t reschedule, because he’s rude and he can go to hell in a handcart. I actually wanted to let go and call him every name under the sun, but I’m too classy for that…somehow.

My mum and brother were super supportive. My brother, who is actually a really chilled out guy, said that he was appalled that I’d been stood up and that he was furious on my behalf. He also said that I should’ve joined him and his wife as they were only a few tube stops away and they would’ve gladly dished out tea and sympathy. However, I knew if I had taken them up on their generous offer, I probably would’ve burst into tears and I really just wanted to go home and get cuddles from my mum instead.

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My mum’s hugs are epic

I also went on a couple of dates with another guy, but that didn’t lead anywhere. Well, that was my decision really. I think that having been on so many first dates, I’ve fine-tuned my list of what I want from a guy and that means making tough decisions and not compromising on anything at all. I have high standards and people often remark that because of said high standards, I’ll probably be alone, but I’d rather be alone than settle for someone who makes me compromise on things that I really can’t compromise on. I still hold out some hope that I may find love, but it may take a lot longer than I thought. I could quite easily date someone who isn’t right for me for the sake of it, but that wouldn’t be fair to the other person. It’s better to be single and continue the search.

There is another man on the cards though. It’s all hush-hush at the moment and I won’t be spilling the tea any time soon. I don’t want to jinx it because this may actually have potential, but we’ll have to see what happens in due course.

In other news:

  • I’ve already started writing my book. It’s going pretty well, if I do say so myself.
  • I’m having a mini-staycation back in Exeter at the end of November (and if any of you are still there, hit me up so we can arrange something). I cannot wait to go back and rediscover my love for that place.
  • Unfortunately, there was a huge fire in Exeter which means I won’t be visiting one of my favourite places there because it’s been burnt down to a cinder. At least I’ll always have the memories.
  • Reminiscing about Exeter has made me realise just how hard it is to get decent cider in London. I’ll be drinking a lot of cider that weekend.
  • I’m working on Halloween so I can’t celebrate it, but I came to the conclusion that if I was celebrating, I’d have dressed up as The Joker.
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This is my aesthetic #goals

Dating and Dickpics: Episode 11

At this point, I wonder if there will ever be a time where I stop writing D&D. I love writing it, but I would love to find…well, love.

I seem to have the worst luck when it comes to fuckboys. The guy I was making heart-eyes over in D&D 10? He was a complete fuckboy. I think he realised after the first date that sex was off the cards completely. He thought he could change my mind about it. For some reason, men seem to think that no matter how strong a woman’s convictions are, they are God’s gift to women and will change her mind somehow. No man is ever that amazing. Even if it was Idris Elba, it wouldn’t happen.

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Sorry Idris. I love you but no sexy time.

So I was back in the dating game once again and I found a man who made everything sound so promising. He wasn’t exactly my type but I’m a believer in giving most people a chance if I find we are compatible enough to get along. He actually met me when I was on a night out with my friends. I’d only told him in passing that I’d had a busy day planned but we’d be in a nightclub that evening if he wanted to join us and to my surprise, he turned up. He was courteous and polite. We spent almost an hour outside the nightclub just talking and getting to know each other. After, we exchanged numbers and texted every day until our first official date. That date went swimmingly well. As did our second date. By the end of our second date, I thought that this guy had potential.

But things are very rarely a fairytale, especially in my life.

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I was kind of rooting for him.

His true colours were revealed on my birthday, ironically. So for my birthday, I was betrayed and lied to. I have to say, I wouldn’t have coped with the aftermath without my amazing friends (you know who you are). I got over it in time, but I think that what hurt more was another betrayal that blindsided me; he quickly became an afterthought and collateral damage in the end.

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Party pooper.

Despite this, I am grateful for both the fuckboy and the I’ll Ruin Your Birthday guy too. They both taught me some lessons, which are:

  • No man is ever worth breaking a promise you made to yourself.
  • Talk is cheap.
  • Actions speak louder than words.
  • If a guy suddenly goes silent for more than a day, he’s not into you.
  • It’s easy to say you’re a feminist and believe in equality but your actions will always betray you.
  • Never stay with a man who thinks that talking to other men is a crime.
  • If someone lets you down at the last minute, you’re not their priority, so get rid of them.
  • You never really know someone’s true intentions until it’s too late.

Despite all this drama, I’m still feeling positive. I know I have the love and support of my friends and I couldn’t have picked myself back up without them. I love you guys.

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#SquadGoals

It’s not all doom and gloom though. I’ve decided that I really need to test men out when I date them and not take everything on face value because as I mentioned above, talk is cheap and it’s easy for men to tell you what you want to hear just to get in your pants or take advantage of you in other ways. Looking back, there were many things wrong with Party Pooper guy but I looked past them because he was just so kind and polite and I thought I could compromise. The fact is, I really can’t. I’m bad at compromising when it comes to love and although I used to think that was a flaw, I don’t think it is now. I know what I want and I won’t settle for less because…well, why should I? Why should anyone settle for less?

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Don’t compromise.

I’m excited to announce that I do have a date this coming weekend. I’m looking forward to it because the guy is miles apart from the guys I’ve dated recently. He’s intelligent and very interesting. Hopefully it all goes well and I don’t make a complete embarrassment of myself. But at the moment, I’m not reading much into it. A date is just that — getting together to find out more about each other. And if this doesn’t work out? Onto the next date.

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Bring it on!

 

Dear Fuckboy

Dear Fuckboy,

I really thought everything was going well. We’d been talking for well over a month and we had that spark that I’d been missing with everyone else I’d spoken to. I finally had the courage to put myself out there after so long; I’ve been bitten more times than I care to remember and I was so shy as a result. But you seemed worth it. The banter was great and your texts always made me smile. I remember being frightfully nervous just before our first date. I was panicking on the train to Covent Garden where we planned to meet.

Our date couldn’t have gone better. I remember, in between giggles and sips of cocktails, thinking ‘this is the best date I’ve been on’. You were exactly what you had promised you’d be: you were funny, charming and a good conversationalist. I went home that evening on cloud nine. We texted each other when we got home to see if we’d both reached safely and you told me you had a great time.

The next week was more of the same. We relayed sweet and silly texts to one another, both dreaming about our next date the following weekend.

Then something happened. Something happened and you never gave an explanation. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, believing that you’re ill or busy, so I let it slide. You had told me you were unwell previously so I texted to see if you were okay as I was worried. You told me you were fine and that I needn’t worry about you. So I didn’t.

Then I texted you the following day, asking how it was going as you were ill and presumably at work. I didn’t get a reply all day. After hours of overthinking (thanks to my anxiety, which you know I have), I decided to give in and ask if you if you were no longer interested in me, because that was how it was feeling considering you had been online and waved it around in my face, read my text and not replied. I somehow went to bed and fell asleep, with some false hope that you would’ve replied that morning. Pretty much everyone around me was saying that you’d lost interest because you don’t read someone’s texts and not reply for the whole day.

The next morning came. The only texts I had received were from my best friends. I texted you to tell you that I got it, it’s over, but you could’ve had the decency to tell me. You read that message and didn’t dignify it with a response.

For someone who is older than me, I have to applaud just how mature you behaved! Maturity is, after all, ignoring someone you asked to be your girlfriend the week before. Maturity is not clearly stating that you were no longer interested. Maturity is leading a woman on for over a month and then opting for radio silence.

You told me you were different. You begged me for a chance, for a date. You promised you were different from all the rest, that you meant what you said, that you would never lie. You promised that you’d never hurt me.

Really, you were exactly like the others. In fact, you were worse, because other fuckboys never lied to me like you did.

So goodbye, dear fuckboy. Thanks for diminishing my trust in men just that little bit more. Thanks for making me second-guess everything the next man who tries to date me says and does. Thanks for making me feel like I’m not worth someone’s time. Thanks for making me believe that finding a genuine, good man is just a myth.

Dating and Dickpics: Episode 10

I’ve been really busy lately, writing for The Tab on a fellowship that I won so I haven’t had a chance to write here. I was also on a fixed term contract at a company but that ended so I have my life back!  Now I’m back and you just know I had to write D&D Episode 10! I’ve got some absolute gems for you.

There’s obviously been the usual sexual harassment online. I wonder if that will ever stop. I doubt it. For some reason, some men seem to think that if you’re on a dating site or app, it’s fine to sexually harass and intimidate you. In fact, I even received sexual harassment on Twitter, of all places. Some bloke thought he had the God-given right to ask me invasive questions about my sex life. I’m just astounded that there are so many fuckboys. They’re literally everywhere! I don’t even know if I should give them the time of day on D&D. I do tend to hand out some sassy replies though. For example, one guy said he was searching for a woman who loved to be eaten out for ‘the main event’. So I said that I was searching for a man who didn’t spout sexually invasive shit in their messages. He wasn’t happy but he’d pissed me off by writing such foul garbage in the first place. If you piss me off, expect to be dealt a worse hand.

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Fuckboys EVERYWHERE

There was this guy I was texting. We met on Tinder and it seemed to be going well. Tinder is a notoriously rubbish app to use and it has loads of bugs in it so we weren’t always getting notifications when we replied to one another so we decided to swap numbers and take it from there. That was the biggest mistake I ever made. Anyone who knows me knows that I have anxiety and therefore taking phone calls with strangers is really stressful for me. I panic and get anxious so I avoid them at all costs. Of course, if it’s one of my best friends on the other end of the line, I feel comfortable as I have known and loved them for years (shoutout to all of you, you’re the real MVPs). This guy, whom I have never met in my life, thinks that it’s fine to call me up even though I’ve explained that I don’t like answering the phone and that I have anxiety. Anyone who knows what anxiety is, even if they don’t know all about it, knows that people with anxiety tend to have panic attacks. So he was prepared to give me a panic attack because he wanted to call me. Of course, all the alarm bells are ringing at this point. Anyway, he was adamant that he was going to get the bottom of what I was ‘hiding’ because clearly, having anxiety isn’t a good enough reason not to pick up the phone according to him. I said I wasn’t hiding anything and I didn’t think we should meet up because he was clearly paranoid and if he couldn’t accept something as simple as me having anxiety and not being able to speak to essentially a stranger on the phone, this was never going to work out. He cooled off for a bit and then apologised, hoping to win favour with me again. No fucking chance. I told him I was no longer interested, to which he responded that it was fine because…

Because he thought I was ‘born a man’, in his words, and I wasn’t a ‘proper woman’ (because this huge transphobe thinks transwomen are not ‘real women’…after that comment, he really had no fucking chance because I won’t date a transphobe).

So according to him, I wasn’t picking up the phone because I was a born a man. What the hell? That’s absurd. Safe to say I was just so fucking done at that point.

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REALLY?

I love my trans-sisters for sure and I will always stand up for the trans community, but I find it pretty weird that he couldn’t accept my anxiety as the reason that I couldn’t talk on the phone and thought that the clearly logical explanation was that I was a transwoman. Firstly, there is nothing wrong with being trans. Secondly…surely it’s just common decency to give the person the benefit of the doubt and believe what they’re saying is true? Finally, I’m glad I saw his true, transphobic colours because I don’t date assholes who think it’s acceptable to insult people based on their gender. (If anyone was actually wondering, which I highly doubt because my readers are inclusive and awesome, I’m not trans.)

Well, this fine-ass woman (me) actually bagged herself a date with a right fittie. We’d been talking for weeks and we finally went out last weekend. It was so much fun! He’s amazing. I really like him and he really likes me. He’s so handsome, funny and just so much fun to be around. Seriously, I couldn’t stop smiling the whole day and when we said goodbye, I was genuinely sad to be going home. I bumped into a friend on the train home and she noted that I looked like I was high as a kite so I told her all about the date and how incredible he is. He’s so charming. Ugh, I sound like such a fangirl! It’s only been one date but it feels right. I feel like I can be myself around him and I’m really comfortable around him. He’s a great guy. I can’t wait to see him again (that’s happening tomorrow, actually). So maybe this is the beginning of the end of Dating & Dickpics!

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This is genuinely how I felt when I first saw him!

Wish me luck!

  • I’m super excited for tomorrow.
  • Nothing is as good as a gif picture.
  • The weather is lovely and I’d like it to stay like this until the end of summer.
  • I have to start planning my birthday party now that August is just days away and I have no idea where to go or what to do. I do know who I’m inviting though, so that’s one thing at least.
  • If anyone knows of any social media or writing jobs going, do let me know!

Dating and Dickpics: Episode 9

I can’t believe I haven’t written an installment of the prestigious Dating and Dickpics since February. I’m shocked at myself.

Since the chapter of my tragic love life, a lot has happened. There have been interesting developments in my career and I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere.

In my previous installment of D&D, I mentioned that I had a date with someone who propositioned me on Twitter. It was all very innocent as we’d had some banter about having disabilities and football. It all came about because of a show called The Undateables, which airs on Channel 4. As an avid social media user, I couldn’t resist tweeting whilst watching and supposedly, neither could he. Anyway, we seemed to get along so we followed each other on Twitter and pencilled in a date.

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I thought I’d get it…

Our first date was a laugh. We met up in Camden (my usual haunt) and had quite a few cocktails. By all accounts, we got on well. He wasn’t exactly what I was expecting (for one, I expected a deeper voice) but he seemed nice and intelligent. After our first date, we started texting non-stop and arranged another date, but this time nearby his university. I was intrigued because I’d actually applied to UCL for my undergraduate degree but decided to turn it down in favour of Exeter. That date also went swimmingly well. I was beginning to like him quite a bit. We spoke everyday and things were, by all accounts, going well.

Then things got weird, fast. He suddenly maintained a radio silence for a few days. I confronted him about it and told him that rather than playing games, it was just better if he was honest. My suspicions were confirmed: he was avidly trying to blank me. Why? Apparently I’m ‘too much’ and ‘too excitable’. He thought it was fine to be passionate about things, but not to the extent that I was. He didn’t get why the small things in life made me happy. Now, as someone with severe depression, if I didn’t hang on to these little things, I’d probably spend the majority of each day crying my eyes out.

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#depression #mentalhealth

I just couldn’t believe the audacity. You’re blaming me for being…myself? Getting excited about irrelevant stuff like Grey’s Anatomy, pugs and tattoos is just a part of who I am. I was thoroughly offended. When I’ve dated someone and it’s not worked out, it has never been because of my personality. 9/10 times, it’s been because I don’t want kids, or they’re just looking for a side chick. I’ve never had someone complain about what fundamentally makes up my personality.

Another thing I couldn’t quite fathom is why a grown ass man of 30 was trying to avoid me like a teenage boy than be honest and just tell me that he wasn’t interested. And to think the man was doing a Masters…he clearly needs a degree in courtesy more than anything.

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Since that, I haven’t dated much. I haven’t really had the time. I’ve either been working or trying to find work. I’m now working shifts, which makes dating a bit of a minefield. It does, however, mean that I’m more likely to see my best friends as they all work shifts too.

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I did start talking to a guy on a dating app. It seemed like it might go somewhere as we live in the same town, so meeting up wouldn’t be a problem. He seemed decent enough and I was willing to go out on a date with him.

I had just returned from London and received a formal job offer when I got a text from him saying that we should celebrate that very evening. I told him I couldn’t because I was exhausted from a long day and just wanted to stay at home with my mum and celebrate. He was bummed, but let it go. Then he began messaging me about meeting up the next day, which was a Saturday.

Here’s the thing. That Saturday was Eurovision. I haven’t missed a single Eurovision in my life and I wasn’t about to. I’m ever so slightly mad about Eurovision.

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Eurovision > every other day of the year.

So I told him I had pre-made plans and that I wasn’t going to rearrange my plans for a date. We could always do the following Friday as I wasn’t working and I’d be free all afternoon and evening. He wasn’t having it, though. He got all sulky and moody about the fact that I had plans and wasn’t prepared to drop them for someone who is essentially a stranger. He couldn’t get over it. He kept messaging me, saying how disappointed he was, how let down he felt. I was actually livid at this point. You are a stranger. I do not know you. What makes you think that my world revolves around you so much that I’m going to suddenly drop any plans I had just for you? Never mind the fact that he wanted to ‘stay out late’ with me, when I’d made it clear that I don’t like staying out past midnight (unless I’m with my best friends of course — I’m in safe company with them). It all sounded far too creepy for my liking, so I cut him loose. He hasn’t once tried to message me to apologise for his selfish behaviour and to be honest, I’m relieved he hasn’t because I’m sure that if he did apologise, he would somehow try and manipulate the situation for his own gain.

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Of course, I’ve had my dating app/website woes, but I will probably collate those into a Dating and Dickpics 9.5 as there are a lot. It’ll be a picture-heavy post.

  • Why do guys chase you and then go off the grid? This has happened with a suitor who I thought was genuinely interested. Perhaps not.
  • I like the concept of Bumble. It means that you can choose whether or not to talk to the guy you’ve matched with. However, when you do initiate conversation, why don’t they ever reply?
  • I’m fed up of every other man asking me what my ethnicity is. If you want to know, that just means you’re interested in fetishising me, not getting to know me.
  • ‘What that mouth do?’ ‘Lectures you on intersectional feminism.’
  • Everyone hot at my new workplace is either gay or taken.
  • Slowly but surely thinking life as a crazy cat lady would actually be a good future prospect and an increasingly likely one.
  • When is Tom Hiddleston going to just give in and marry me?
  • Coffee is bae.