Baby, Can I Hold You

Getting Over Him

May 29, 2025

poetry, relationships

I think of you often

In those hazy moments between awake and dreaming

When the memories of you

settle on my eyelashes.

And it’s enough

The thought of you

And what we were once to each other.

I sometimes wonder if I should write to you

If my words should jump into this space between us

knowing that the gulf between us

Was built by you and me

Deliberately,

Knowingly.

And while every inch of me

Wants to crawl across every one of those miles and see the view from the other side of this valley

Instead I look into the distance

Take a deep breath

And smile through my tears

At the beauty of the sunrise.

I spend minutes and weeks picking up different words,

Turning these words in my hands

Agonising over the weight and feel of them

If I spoke these words,

Would they find you again?

Would you be happy to hear them?

You once said to me ‘who am I, really, in the grand scheme of things? to make you feel this way?’

And I didn’t see it then, but I see it now

You’re gone and yet you’re also still with me

And I’m left wondering if any of my words now, right or not,

Could ever make their way to you

And find that place again

That I used to occupy

But which no longer exists

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Exploring Fantasies

May 28, 2025

sex

I’ve written before about a man that had an enormous impact on my life (and also a fantasy that he inspired!) But there were also other things that he helped me realise. It was through him that I first had an interest in writing poetry again and he also helped me unravel parts of myself I hadn’t known by exploring our fantasies together.

That’s pretty much how it started. We had been talking for quite some time before things turned sexual between us. And when it did, he always had questions. What do I like? What makes me feel good? What would I do if I had the chance to explore sex more? And I don’t think I always had the answers for a lot of his questions. Not then, anyway. So we talked about it more.

Once, he asked me outright to tell him a fantasy I’d had. And at this time I was firmly of the belief that I’m heavily submissive (more on this later!) and I described to him this fantasy I had about being tied up in bed and being teased and then fucked. It felt only slightly mortifying to describe this fantasy in detail to him but he took it in his stride. Asking questions, trying to probe what I’d prefer in different parts of my fantasy – this or that? to really flesh out my fantasy. I could tell, and he probably told me at the time, that this wasn’t a scenario that appealed to him but that didn’t matter. It was about me and what I wanted to explore so he walked me through my description and was really with me on it.

Afterwards, I felt relief. Both because some of my embarrassment had ended but also because I’d been able to put into words something that I’d only ever thought of before this. It felt like a release. And because I thought it had been such a great experience for me to talk about my innermost desires, I asked him to do the same. To tell me a fantasy of his in great detail. When he said his fantasy was a threesome with two women I distinctly remember my eyes nearly rolling out of my head and I probably typed at him that he’s such a cliche. But in a lighthearted, we feel really comfortable with each other way.

But of course because he’d been so patient and great and walking me through my fantasy I decided to do the same with him. I started asking questions about what appeals about it, what makes it a fantasy for him, what it would look like to me. But he wasn’t satisfied with him making all the decisions on this fantasy.

He said that I’d be one of the women in this fantasy so why don’t I think of what the other woman would be like? So, reluctantly, I closed my eyes and thought of the sexiest woman I could think of …and in that same second a picture fully formed appeared in my head, and it was of my best friend. Her with her dark hair, big blue eyes, large boobs, the sound of her laughing, the voice notes she sends me that I love so much. And I knew in that instant that I was completely, utterly attracted to her in both a sexual and romantic way.

And it changed everything for me. I had lived over 30 years without realising how into women I am. When I looked back on my life all the signs pointed in that direction. My first sexual experience was with another girl. My confusing thoughts about women’s bodies. The intense friendships I had with other girls growing up where I ended up acting like a jealous girlfriend. Even the intensity of my relationship with my best friend already bordered on more than platonic.

After this massive realisation, I ended up telling my best friend how I felt about her. She admitted that her and her boyfriend had also fantasised about me joining them and she loved that this man and I thought about her. It may never be something that she and I end up exploring. But that’s okay. There’s more to our friendship than this. And it opened my eyes to this part of myself that I’ve enjoyed unravelling in small steps.

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Sexy Surprise

May 27, 2025

sex

He asked me to arrive at his hotel room by a certain time, get changed into lacy lingerie, get on the bed with my hands under the pillows (for some faux restraints) and with a pillowcase over my eyes for a makeshift blindfold.

He said he’d arrive at some point and that I was to wait for him. He’d enter without saying a word and he’d start giving the first of 100 kisses that I was to count. The 100th kiss would be on my lips and the blindfold could come off.

It ended up being the sexiest experience I’ve had in a long time.

I was nervous to begin with, but a kind of excited nervousness. I liked the instruction beforehand. I’ve never scripted what sex would look like in advance but I didn’t mind the visual, the build up of anticipation. I liked driving the 35 minutes to his hotel room knowing what was in store for me.

I had grabbed a favourite red lingerie set as I was leaving the house, something I knew I’d feel comfortable in. When I got to his hotel room, I walked in and could smell a lingering scent of his aftershave, he’d stripped the bed and laid the pillows and pillowcase out. I started to wonder if I’d passed him outside or in reception, where was he waiting? And thinking about that upped the thrill of it.

He’d asked me to text him when I was ready and where I’d like the first of his kisses. I wanted to write back ‘my inner thigh’ but I wasn’t brave enough for that and wrote back, ‘I’m ready, first kiss on my neck please’ and I waited. Thankfully he wasn’t a monster and didn’t leave me hanging too long. I heard him come in and put something down, and he circled the bed until he was one side of me. My breathing was so irregular at this point, a bit ragged from nerves and excitement.

I remember thinking on the drive over that I’m not sure how into the blindfold idea I was. I love looking and seeing other people. Their reactions, their movements. I thought …maybe I’ll just use the blindfold as an illusion and sneak glances anyway. But in the moment? I loved the blindfold. Even when I moved my head and the blindfold rode up or moved, I ended up closing my eyes until he adjusted it back. It felt sexier to me to not see him, to not know. Even to lean into the instructions given. But honestly, once things started happening, that was probably the last coherent thought I had.

He started off by running his fingers along my skin. Then he added an ice cube. Mixed in with soft kisses on my neck, my thighs. Circling my nipples with the ice cube was an intense experience but it all felt so good. The softness of his touch, his lips, together with the sting of the coldness of the ice cube. Once or twice he flicked the ice cube so that droplets of water would land on my lips and it was at those points that I realised that I’d been moaning, or doing little huffs of breathing when he’d moved away from a spot that felt good.

Everything he did made me want more. It was intoxicating. All the touching, light kisses on my skin, the blindfold, the idea of being restrained. All of it had built into my massive amount of need. He’d moved aside the fabric of my lingerie and had used his fingers on me, sliding his fingers into my mouth to lick off. I was glad when he moved one of the pillows ‘holding’ my arms down and guided my hand to his hard cock and I was happy to stroke him, but soon after he replaced his fingers inside me with his mouth and everything felt like too much and not enough at the same time.

The next thing I knew, he had moved the pillow again, and let my hand discover that he’d put a condom on and I felt a surge of gratitude at this kindness from him as well as excitement. I thought the blindfold would come off but he continued to adjust it over my eyes as he fucked me with my legs in different positions. When he raised my legs over his shoulders the feeling of him was deep inside me. Almost but not quite too deep and I remember tensing but his control was good and it felt incredible.

The first thing he said to me (maybe?) was to keep my eyes closed as he grabbed my hand and helped me off the bed, only to have my hands pressed against the wall, bent over a bit so that he could take me from behind. I could have opened my eyes but I was so in deep in this submissive space that I didn’t.

Not even when he told me to get on my knees in front of him. He tasted like the latex from the condom and he had his hands very gently on my head and in my hair. He whispered encouragement as I sucked him, clearly enjoying when I took him further into my mouth. I liked it. I liked him saying how well I was doing, that he saying it in such a low voice. I wanted to please him and kept going until tears were streaming down my face.

He said ‘good’ as he lightly stoked my cheek before guiding me again to the edge of the bed where I was told I could open my eyes finally. It was so different fucking him with my eyes open, with the ability to see him. The look of desire and pleasure as I rode him, my back arching and my head falling back in my own pleasure. I couldn’t take my eyes off him in every way he moved. Whether it was to reposition my legs or the way he thrusted into me. When he used his fingers on my clit again, my orgasm building he said ‘let go’ in this way that had me relaxing into it.

I loved the restriction of the faux restraints before but without them I could run my hands along his arms and back, holding him closer to me and hear his growls of pleasure in my ear, his hair falling into my face. When he finished, his final kiss was actually on my forehead. And I realised that I’d lost count at 32 kisses and I have no idea now if he ever managed to give me those 100 kisses or not. I don’t care. I had the best day ever, absolutely worn out from all the orgasms.

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What Men Say To Me

May 23, 2025

dating

I wanted this to be a new feature but after three days of collecting the things men say to me in their first messages online, I’ve decided this one post is all I can manage.

What the hell is demisexual and reciprosexual? There now needs to be a dictsexionary as it’s challenging working out all these sexual patterns.

You actually don’t drink? Not even wine?

Rude little bitch

Free?

I’m all right, hot lips. That’s right, that’s your new pet name. Because well, you have hot lips.

Morning honey what u up to xxxx

Hey, would you wanna fuck outside?

I can’t stop perving on you I could get used to you 😈

How’s it going love? You got much planned for this evening? Don’t like to offer money but looking for a meet tonight, if it would turn your fancy would be happy to pay you nicely x

Jesus Christ!! You look delicious

U look cute to be fair looking for a fwb sort of thing meet here and there drinks food good sex what ever u fancy and in any order u like

Green really suits you sexy

Staying in your area for the weekend if you want to meet

I’d love to watch you eat and play with my naughty lady We are arranging for her first meet next Friday I’d love to eat your arse while you’re tasting her soaking wet pussy then I’d ruin you both with this

Hit me up when you’ve dealt with the guaranteed inundated blokes you’ve got chasing you hun xx

Hi sexy how u doing? X

Do you mind playing with married men?

If you could choose to give or receive oral right now which would you choose?

Would you like a spoon and see where it goes from there 😈

Truth or dare 😉 x

Hey how’s you x

That sun really helps those panties get wet 😈

Wow how hot are you looking 😍

Hey, fancy mmf tonight?

Instead of that how about me making you squirt with my dildo until I’m licking you… As much as you can handle it

Hiya. I hope you’re in the mood for a bit of fun, are you? X

Hello..9in bbc looking for meet today

How to spend this sunny day? With my mouth and tongue in your holes?

Clearly we should FUCK!

Hows your weekend going so far, you been stirring up mischief or playing the angel?

You should be in lingerie being devoured by me

You could sit on my cock in my motorhome we could go and park up somewhere nice

Love you to Queen my face?

Hot

Looking sexy huni and very hot

Want to ride my face and cock outside somewhere risky?

Can I come and devour your pussy x

How do you feel about using restraints in the bedroom

Hey I’m currently wanking and close to cumming and would love to chat to you and for you to hear me…

Good morning, apologies if I’m to rude but would you wanna fuck?

Love to see your arsehole please

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Playlist

May 22, 2025

sex

Do you have a Getting it On playlist? Or whatever phrase that’s cooler than ‘getting it on’?

I never used to. But I created a playlist recently because I am obsessed with one particular song. Her voice, it gets to me. But then I started thinking there are particular songs that I’d probably add to such a list. More so because the songs remind me of times I’ve had sex as opposed to the songs that get me in the mood.

Video Games by Lana del Rey

This is the song I’m currently obsessed by. Her sultry voice does things to me. But especially the way she sings ‘It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you’ that really speaks to the passion that I’ve had for people. Both currently and in the past. I feel like it’s a lyric that I relate to very strongly. And it’s just a sexy song. I heard you like the bad girls, honey is that true? is another favourite lyric.

I’m On Fire by Bruce Springsteen

This one is a weird one. Because in an erotic book I read years ago – that I loved, about a MF couple that live out his cuckolding fantasy by bringing in another man – the main female character says that this song gets her aroused immediately and it’s a trigger in the book that this new sexual adventure is about to start for them.

Tell me now, baby, is he good to you?
And can he do to you the things that I do?

But… I’ve had personal experience with this song. A recent hookup wanted to put on his own sexy playlist while we were having sex. Thankfully, I cannot recall any of the music played during the actual act. But in the comedown, I noticed that the song playing was a cover version of this song. Except the cover was not great. It sounded like a sanitised version, no grit to their voice. It was like they removed all the sexiness from the song and left the shell of a song in its place. I cringed listening to it and I definitely judged the hookup for having such a terrible song on his playlist.

Wicked Game by Chris Isaak

Wicked Game, the Chris Isaak version is objectively a very sexy song. I’ve loved it as long as I’ve known of it and I love his voice. There’s something in it. The lyrics, the music, the sound of his voice.

The world was on fire, and no one could save me but you
It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do

But I was in Manchester a few years ago visiting a friend for a supposed sexy weekend and he’d the room with his playlist still on and a cover version of Wicked Game came on … and I couldn’t wait for him to return (from the kitchen, getting us both a drink) and yelled into the hallway – ‘What IS this version of this song?!’ and when he came back he said he preferred his version, by Stone Sour, to the Chris Isaak version. And I did not know what to do with that information.

Blinding Lights by The Weeknd

You don’t even have to do too much
You can turn me on with just a touch, baby

I was fairly nervous having my first threesome (I still hope to tell you about that sometime) and I was sitting on their sofa and she suggested some music. She asked me if I had any preferences and when I said ‘no’ she put an album by The Weeknd on repeat.

…And I can’t tell you that I noticed any of the songs. The music. None of it. During that entire experience I was completely and utterly oblivious to anything going on that wasn’t her, to be honest.

It’s only after because when we were all finished, she asked me if I liked The Weeknd and I said ‘of course’ but I said it in a way like I’d have said ‘yes’ to anything because I was so in my own head at that point that very little was getting through to me. I needed to process.

But after that? After that day, whenever I come across anything by The Weeknd I do a little smile and think of how great it all was.

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Best Date Ever

May 21, 2025

dating, relationships

As I mentioned it in an earlier post, I thought today I’d share my favourite date ever. I’m in my 40s and my favourite date ever happened when I was 17. How has it still not been topped?

I was dating a man that would soon go on to become my (now ex) husband. He suggested one day, earlyish in the morning that we visit this large bookstore nearby. Because it was on the other side of the town where I lived and because I relied on public transport, it wasn’t a bookstore I’d visited before. And it was massive. The moment we got there I wandered off in a daze, hypnotised by the rows and rows of books.

My date and I cobbled together this plan where we’d gather up a bunch of books and then find a corner to share them with each other. We both had piles of books with us. Some of them were our favourite books – books we read as children, some of them books we’d read as young people, and we shared what we loved about them. Some of the books were poetry books and we’d choose random poems to read aloud to each other. One of us had found a trivia book. He’d grabbed collections of urban legends and books of folktales from other cultures and he’d read out shorter stories. We found several different books that asked ‘what if?’ questions or other more general getting to know you questions. We were still new in our relationship and in that phase where everything new we learned about each other was precious.

And we spent hours in this corner, talking and laughing. Surrounded by books. Sometimes we’d take turns going for other books, but that was the only break in conversation. There was just so much to say to each other, so much to share. We talked until we were both starved.

Luckily, there was a cafe connected to this bookstore and we ordered ham and cheese croissants and crisps, fizzy drinks. And ate our food pulling apart the croissants into strips, the pastry flaking everywhere. Sharing the bags of crips, our fingers brushing against each other as we tried each other’s drinks and just generally used any excuse to touch each other.

He’d seen that there was a collection of board games that people could play in the cafe. After some debate we settled on Scrabble and I felt gleeful at this very much being my game. But he surprised me with how strategically he was using the double and triple letter and word scores. My vocabulary was better but luck was on his side as he always had just the right letters and just the right number of spaces to maximise his points. When it looked certain he had decimated me he relented and told me he had cheated. That there was no way he could win without it so while I was concentrating so much on my tiles and word choice he had swapped his tiles, had moved letters and words across the board.

And it’s such a testament to my interest in him that I thought this too was adorable. It helped that he said he’d cheated because he wanted to impress me. And he had this mischievous grin and these big brown eyes that I really couldn’t be mad at him. Not for long anyway. We held hands as we left. I don’t remember what we did after that and I don’t remember any of other dates being as wonderful as that one. But decades later I still think of it fondly as one of the best days and dates I’ve had.

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On Dating

May 20, 2025

dating

Last weekend, and I guess most weekends, I’ll be invited to go out on dates. Often these invitations are from strangers that have seen my name online and are trying their chances, or people I’ve matched with on dating apps. Rarely it is people I’ve met previously but those have a much higher likelihood of a positive response.

Lately I’ve realised that I go through phases of being burnt out by dating. Sometimes it feels like a lot of effort. In the early stages of conversation, trying to work out enough about a person to determine if they’re worth the time spent. Getting to know each other, travelling to a date, getting ready for a date. Sitting through a date. Making conversation.

A lot of times I’ll have one dud of a date after another. And the disappointment after each boring date takes an emotional toll. I hate getting my hopes up or feeling excited about meeting a person for there to be no chemistry. No natural flow to conversation. For their online personality to be interesting and engaging but dull in person.

Last weekend and actually every time I get invited to a date lately the process I go through to determine whether or I say ‘yes’ or not is that I ask myself one thing:

Would I prefer to go on this date or would I prefer to stay at home in bed with my dog?

If I’m genuinely excited to meet this person, to spend time with them and I’m not initially grumbling about lost free time or whatever, then I say ‘yes’ and start to make plans.

But if I think …I’d really like to finish watching season three of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, with my dog snoring pressed against my leg in bed? Then it’s a polite ‘no thank you’ as I reach for my remote control.

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Realisations

May 19, 2025

relationships

I met someone online many years ago. It was in an old school chatroom and I had decided that I needed to find a place to escape for awhile. My dad had just been diagnosed with a serious illness that he wouldn’t recover from and it felt like my entire life was massively off-kilter all of a sudden.

I was talking in the main part of the chatroom about the best date I’d ever been on. I wasn’t getting the type of attention that I thought I should about such an adorable story so I was really glad when this person sent me a private message to discuss it further. He loved the story too and we ended up talking about books and poetry for about an hour before he had to leave.

I remember thinking later that it was the best conversation I’d had in awhile. We hadn’t discussed a single thing personal. I didn’t know his name, where he lived, how old he was. I knew nothing about him. Not even if he’d return or if we’d have another conversation. But the following day, at a different time of day he logged in again when I was there and we just very naturally continued threads of our previous conversation. It felt like there was so much to say between us. Again one of us left, and we hadn’t spoken about anything personal. Or talked about meeting in the chatroom again. It felt like we were just leaving it to chance.

A day went by, two. I didn’t see him. I thought, what a wonderful conversation and thought very little of it. Until I saw him again. And that day we talked about music. Or films. Or life. I remember I’d say things to him that I wouldn’t say to others. Things I had been thinking about. I asked him what he thought about death. If he had regrets. And he asked me questions too. The question that sticks out the most for me is that early on he asked me ‘are you happy?’ and I said ‘yes’ straightaway.

I was happy. I was married, I had a family. I felt like I had everything that I wanted. Sure, my dad was poorly but on the whole? I’d say happiness was where I was. I asked him if he was happy and I felt really happy that he had said ‘yes’ too, that we were two happy people sharing our thoughts with each other about books, poetry, about life.

And it continued in this way for awhile. We didn’t delve into each other’s lives. I didn’t ask him about his uncertain schedule or the days we didn’t run into each other. He didn’t ask why I was never around on the weekends. Aside from the briefest conversation about our levels of happiness, we only talked about general things. But I looked forward to seeing his name on my screen, I looked forward to hearing his thoughts on anything. I liked the way he responded to me, the way he’d pick up on my word choices, the subtle ways I’d tear myself down.

After we hadn’t heard from each other for two weeks I started to realise that I’d started to rely on him for this connection we had. I realised that I wanted to know more about him. I even realised that I wanted him to know more about me. When I next saw him, I told him that I’d missed him. We talked about our growing attraction to each other. We told each other those missing parts of ourselves that we had avoided discussing. That he was married, that I was married too. That he lived in New York as an English teacher at a private high school.

This knowledge of each other changed very little. We continued having our regular conversations. And I think the thing I loved the most about him is that he felt like the first person that really supported me, that offered real encouragement for me to figure out what I wanted from life, that had this unwavering belief that I could do anything. He was the first person that did everything he could to lift me up, to point out that I was interesting, smart, funny, pretty. That I was also strong, capable. It was intoxicating being around him.

Hearing these nice things about me when I’d grown up in environments where communication relied more on insults, that I was more used to things falling within the destruction of others’ confidence, it was in sarcastic remarks and subtle and not so subtle digs. I realised the difference being around this person. This stranger from far away who could easily tell me that I’m incredible. That I had talent and so much potential. That encouraged me to do the things that I’d put on pause, to have dreams of my own beyond my current small life.

And at the time, with all of this encouragement I remember thinking that it was him. That he was incredible. And he was, in his own way. But actually, the parts of him that I thought were so incredible were just the reflections of myself that I saw in him. I thought he was fucking amazing but what I realised later is that through him that actually it was me that is fucking amazing and he had just held up that mirror for me to see.

And it was in this friendship with this man and all of his support that I realised that I might not be as happy as I thought I was. That maybe I wanted more from my life. To go back to school, to find my space in an actual career. I wanted a bigger, more fulfilling life than the one I had. And I will always be grateful to him for holding up that mirror for me to see.

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Saying ‘Yes’

May 16, 2025

sex

I was going through a phase awhile back where I kept saying ‘no’ to opportunities when the barest whisper of discomfort or a little bit of anxiety crept through. I started to think what am I missing out by saying ‘no’ all the time?

So I decided to start saying ‘yes’ more often. With mixed results, possibly. One of the things that I did say ‘yes’ to was meeting a man who was a professional masseuse for a happy ending massage. It seemed completely out of character for me but I feel like I struggle all the time about an idea of who I am as a person and that that person is mostly sensible and doesn’t take risks and so on. So I wanted to do things differently. And I did.

He was an older man, trained and worked as a masseuse. We got on well within our messaging. Mostly talking about women’s sports following his hobby coaching his daughters’ sports teams. He mostly just seemed quite normal and not scary at all so I felt okay taking this huge risk with him.

We decided to meet up at a local pub near his house first. We ended up having dinner together as we talked more, getting used to each other. Or me, really. He seemed fairly at ease. He talked about how he had gotten into massage. How his work in a hotel in another country led him into some more risque situations and environments. But not in a crude way, his storytelling method seemed more of a ‘isn’t this all quite humourous?’ and that made me comfortable.

After dinner, he asked if I was still interested in a massage? And with just a moment’s hesitation, I said ‘yes’. Nerves kicked in slightly when we got to his place, and he’d laid out the massage table all ready with towels and things. He left the room for me to get undressed with a towel to cover my ass as I laid on my front.

I figured, this is why I’m here, just do it already. So I did. I got naked. Laid on the table. And waited. My breathing was a little off and my heartbeat was racing but I was ready for it. Excited, even. And he didn’t disappoint. He had also undressed and came back in wearing just his underwear. But then he started with the oils and there were moments of the massage where I could just melt into the sensation of it and stopped overthinking it. It became just the delicious pressure against my skin, the feel of these long stokes along my back. My shoulders, my arms.

There’s something so relaxing about a full body massage. And there are very specific erogenous zones on my back and shoulders. I remember thinking this almost feels like a professional massage? Until I could feel his erection brush against me. And it was a million of these little brushes against me, touches that got just a little bit nearer, the tease of it.

What I loved so much about it was how much the anticipation built. It was very steady with the actual massaging, and he gave me just enough glimpses into what more there was that by the time he’d asked me to roll over onto my back I felt fully relaxed, pliant even. I was ready for more. I felt like I was aching for more, that my arousal was at breaking point. Patience is also not something that I feel like I’m very good at.

I kept my eyes closed for most of the massage. Everything already felt so overwhelming with everything going on. But it all felt so good. I wasn’t sure how vocal I would be about my own pleasure. But certain places that his fingers dug into felt amazing. Areas that I didn’t think would feel good being massaged felt great. My thighs, my calves, my hands. He pressed his fingers into the arches of my feet and that nearly ended me.

But I could feel when things were coming to an end. When he was spending more time circling my nipples, my inner thighs. Positioning my legs so that they fell open. And it was welcome. I was very much just arousal and need by this point. My eyes flew open and I gasped when his soft tongue gently stroked up the length of me. I was expecting it and I wasn’t.

And just like he had taken his time stroking my entire body, he took his time with this too. He really seemed to be enjoying himself, taking his cues from the way my breathing changed, the little moans I was making. At one point it felt like he was going to change position and I held his head in place, keeping him where I wanted him, and with the pressure I needed.

If anything, I sort of wish now that I’d just ended things there. That I pulled myself together enough to roll off the table, get dressed and tell him thank you for such a nice evening. But I didn’t. I felt so … relaxed and happy and giving, I guess. That I ended up asking if he had a condom. I hadn’t needed to do that, we hadn’t discussed it going any further than we’d done.

But he got up, took my hand and led me to a bed where we fooled around a bit more (he really enjoyed using his tongue and who am I to say ‘no’ to that?) and then somehow he was on top of me, his face in a bit of a grimace, looking like he was in so much pain that I almost stopped him to ask if he was okay. It was blessedly short and despite this part being a bit of a disappointment, we ended up lying on his bed for awhile longer talking about French literature until he walked me back to my car.

I’m mostly glad I said ‘yes’.

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First Steps

May 15, 2025

dating

It took me quite awhile after I separated from my ex husband to actually get out there and start meeting other people. It was a pretty scary thing. I’d met my ex when we were both young, we’d spent the majority of our lives together. To start over again at my age felt like such a huge thing.

So I took my time with it. And when I felt ready I put myself out there. I think the hardest thing for me in the beginning (and it took quite some time to get better at it) is that I started out with some very low confidence, carrying the baggage and weight of things that had been said or done in my long term relationship. I remember thinking (and it becomes a regular thought that pops up every now and again) is if I couldn’t make my marriage work how could I make something else with someone else work? Who is going to want me? What do I even bring to the table in a new relationship? I have no experience with sex or dating how do I even start figuring some of this stuff out?

Very quickly, I ended up talking with this one man that seemed promising. He was very interested in getting to know me. We went for walks. He used to call me 2-3 mornings a week on his way to work and we’d have long conversations in that still getting to know you stage where everything about each other is fascinating.

Crucially, we had sex. It was something that I really worried about. When it happened, it wasn’t anything to write home about. He was probably more selfish sexually than he’d led me to believe but I (mostly) didn’t care. Because it felt like it was this huge hurdle that I was nervous to jump over. But I did. And it was fine. I’d go on to have better (and worse) sexual experiences over time. But the first step? The first step had been taken.

We worked in the same area and had a lot in common. He was patient and kind. He took an interest in me and made me feel like there was more to us. But what got us in the end? We had an argument over a television show. He got very ‘but what about men?’ about the objectification of Aiden Turner in Poldark. I thought we were having a lighthearted debate about it and so I batted back some arguments against his opinion and he took it all very seriously, said I wasn’t being very ‘inclusive’ in my language and eventually when I wouldn’t apologise and wouldn’t back down on what I had said he blocked me. It felt incredibly childish and I remember thinking ‘what even is my life?’

Even so, as much as I laugh about what actually happened, I’m still grateful to have taken that first step. All the steps that I’ve taken since then have been easier but that first step is a doozy.

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