August 18th 2023.
I woke up in a daze of confusion and joy. What a weekend! I’m a hypermasculine male’s worst nightmare, but I couldn’t care less.
Welcome to How I Do It, the series in which we give you a seven-day sneak peek into the sex life of a stranger. This week, we hear from Gloria*, a straight 27-year-old marketing account manager.
Gloria's had a bit of an eventful week, what with it being her birthday and all. Not only did she sleep with two men at her party, much to her joy, but she's been on a couple of dates too. Now, she describes her relationship status as 'TBC' - read on to find out why...
Thursday
I woke up today with a spring in my step, so excited that it was finally the day I'd be meeting my date. After speaking for three weeks, Dylan* and I scheduled a date for this evening. Over text, he was giving self-assured, witty, poetic, and complimentary.
I took extra care to look my best, showering, washing, drying, straightening, curling my hair, and doing my 10-step skincare routine to ensure I would be glowing. On the way to work, I thought of interesting topics of conversation, so I could wow him with my intellect.
When I arrived, Dylan was a decent looking guy - just surely not the same boy from the pictures I'd been pouring over for the past three weeks? I chose to give him the benefit of the doubt, and settled in for an evening of what I thought was sure to be delicious food and enchanting conversation.
The more we chatted, the more I realised that I was driving the conversation. Dylan seemed to have nothing to say, so I paused to let him ask me a question - but the space between us fell silent. I told him about work, my travels, my recent weekend at Glastonbury... nothing.
Having been promised a three-course meal, I had only consumed three Tangfastics all day and therefore the wine was slowly making me incredibly light-headed. Midway through the evening, I asked him: 'Are you going to ask me a question then?' He stared at me blankly and poured another glass.
Running out of topics, I turned to sports. I brought up the fact that I enjoy surfing, and his eyes lit up. He got out his phone and showed me some videos of him surfing and pictures of a surf trip he attended three years ago.
As I stared at the pictures, I recognised the person looking back at me as the boy from the Hinge profile, but looking at Dylan I saw no resemblance. How could three years have been so unkind?
Just as I thought things couldn't get any more boring or worse, we went for a final cigarette, by which point I was utterly inebriated. By chance, we walk past a group of boys I know from university. I'm flushed with embarrassment about them seeing me with my date.
As we began to part ways, with no mention of the promised dinner, he leaned in, and in pure panic, I kissed him. I genuinely think that I would rather marry someone to not hurt their feelings, instead of telling them how I feel.
Friday
F*ck me I'm hungover.
What the utter HELL.
Saturday
My birthday party day has arrived! The woes of Thursday night won't stop me from celebrating my 27th to the fullest.
The plan was to have a few beers before ambling home and having more pre-drinks, then heading to a restaurant. Something must be in the water, or it might be my new hair extensions, but I am turning the head of every 'overly masculine, has never spoken about their feelings, sees women as an object' man. If only I could turn the thoughtful metrosexual ones' heads instead.
When we got to the restaurant, everyone was in high spirits. Two boys from uni walked in, one of which is someone I have been in love with since I was 19. Once the limoncello slips down my throat I'm focused. It's my birthday, and I'm making a beeline.
I have a great time dancing with Hugo*, my crush from uni. He's recently single and up for some fun. Perfect. We make it back to my house, and we have a brief conversation before we follow each other to my bedroom. Five minutes later all my university dreams came true. I can happily say to my 19-year-old self: 'You did it!'
Afterwards, Hugo left, and so did a lot of my memory. I know I went downstairs and met all the people who'd just arrived. Ethan*, a past fling, made it all the way to London to celebrate - how fun. We got chatting and caught up and before I knew it, we started kissing.
Sunday
I woke up in a daze of confusion and joy. What a weekend! I'm a hypermasculine male's worst nightmare, but I couldn't care less. Despite the woes of Thursday night, I'd had a fantastic birthday with two amazing experiences.
As I lay in bed, I reflected on the week as a whole. I'd gone on two dates, and two rendezvous - all with different types of men. How liberating! I smiled to myself, realising that I'd been able to enjoy each experience for what it was, and that I was still in control of my own destiny.
Finally, I thought to myself: 'Bring on next week!'
I woke up this morning with a smile. I had a great time last night, and it’s really nice to feel desired. I’m a bit of a hypermasculine male’s worst nightmare, so I revel in that.
I'm not sure if I'm in a relationship with anyone, and I'm not sure if I ever will be. I just do what I want and who I want when I want and I'm very happy with that.
It's funny how my birthday week has evolved. I had a very successful date with Dylan, even though he was totally different than what I was expecting. I then had a great time with Hugo at my birthday party, and then a surprise one-night stand with Ethan.
I've been feeling very empowered this week, especially with the way men have been responding to me. It's like they can sense my confidence and they find it irresistible. Plus, I'm having a lot of fun, so I'm not going to complain.
I still don't know what the future holds, but I'm sure it will be filled with more fun, more adventure, and more love.
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