The dating game

IMG_0710

I realised I didn’t know one gay woman. I had loads of gay male friends, but no gay females. I needed to get some lesbian friends and go on some dates.

I spent more time on one of the lesbian dating sites, changed my profile from bi to gay (definitely helped) and made sure I was on-line on Monday nights as it turned out that is the time to be online. Maybe all single lesbians stay in on Monday night (ironing their checked shirts…. I can say that, these are my people.) I set myself a goal of a date a week and I more or less stuck to it.

The unexpected thing after coming out to everyone, I unwittingly went into my new gay club with a secret. It seemed I had just ditched one secret and now I was back harassing another in my new gay world. I was a gay virgin. I was a brand new lesbian. I hadn’t so much as kissed a girl and I didn’t want anyone to know. Coming out late (36) is tricky and sometimes hard. You sometimes feel people are saying, you idiot. How on earth did you not realise you are gay? Why did it take so long. And of course it’s not a straight forward thing to answer.

So I’m this gay virgin, but I’m this brave new woman and go on lots of dates and get some friends along the way.

A bit of me felt like I had to go back to noisy late night bars and clubs to meet women. I was a bit down about this. I hadn’t really liked clubbing the first time around, did I really need to go and do all that again to be out on the scene. I’d been to loads of gay male bars and clubs, but never any women only ones. The first female only bar was called….wait for it….G Spot! It would have been funnier to say we didn’t find it first time, but we did as it was on the corner downstairs from popular male gay bar Exodus. Unlike male gay bars, where women are also allowed, this was strict. Male friends coming with their lesbian friends were turned away on the stairs.

It was clicky and not too friendly. I found I felt much more at home queuing for the loos up-stairs in the gay male bar above.

I quickly gravitated back to the mixed gay bars I loved and also spent lots of time in Balans, First Out Café and the odd late night in Heaven.

Later on I’d come to find the Mint Nights at Soho House and have fond memories of dancing on their roof terrace surrounded by gorgeous lesbians (a far cry from crap wine out of a plastic cup in the dingy gay girls room near the loos in G.A.Y.)

The dates were not going great. I didn’t really click with anyone and one of the first ones accused me of being a ‘tourist’. I hadn’t heard the expression before, but quickly realised what it meant. We chatted well over dinner, but when I came back from the loos she’d already got the bill and ending our evening. I avoided telling people I was a new lesbian after that for a while.

There was the fitness mad one disapproving of my beer drinking, the one who announced five minutes in ‘well we clearly don’t fancy each other’ (even though I did!) and the one I never actually got a date with, as she kept switching the date, due to open dating (playing the field). Things were not going well, but on the plus side I had managed to pick up some lady-homo mates.

Down but not defeated, I keep logging into the dating site on Monday nights. While my brave self prevailed I knew the right girl was out there for me somewhere.