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I met Ben at my brother’s 21st birthday party. Now, his childhood sexual fantasy had come true and I’d made that happen. He’d probably fantasised about me as a kid – not in an arrogant way, but in a fancying you mate’s older sister kind of way. But here, with Joe, the power play was reversed. (Put the violins away, it’s just a fact.) Which meant I’d always had a gnawing feeling that I wasn’t enough and that they’d leave me. They were always better looking and more intelligent. In my ‘real-life’ relationships, I’ve always fallen for men harder than they fell for me. My brother would think it’s pathetic I can’t get a guy my own age And just like that, Joe became the first, of several, of my brother’s friends who I’ve slept with. My brother Arthur who is 10 years younger than me. Laughing, he told me he was friends with Arthur. Still blank, I desperately tried to remember whether he was someone I’d ignored, been mean to or snogged. When he asked whether I recognised him, I was blank.
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Joe was sweet, complimentary and looked vaguely familiar. On the lookout for nothing more than a few vodka tonics and a boogie to Beyoncé, I was happy to find my ego being stroked by a lovely looking lifeguard called Joe. After a few weeks of crying and drinking Oyster Bay through a straw, I rebuilt the barricades around my bruised heart and headed for the nearest sticky dance floor. It had taken me completely by complete surprise and my self-esteem was crushed. When my last relationship broke down a few years ago, I was heartbroken.
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Not only am I self-sabotaging my chance at forming real romantic connections, but the longer it goes on, the higher the chance of people finding out – something which can never happen. It began accidentally, but it’s developed into a sexual habit I’m finding hard to kick. As friends and friends of friends couple up, marry off or enter parenthood, I’ve found myself seeking coital comfort even closer to home. Nothing unusual there, however, the older I get the narrower my dating net has become, largely thanks to my self-imposed no strangers dating rule. I’m now 32 and have been single for a few years.
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A few bad experiences with men I had no connection to made me wary and mistrusting, so I stuck to being a serial friendship group snogger, safe in the knowledge that these men had already been vetted and approved by my trusted circle. This aversion to strangers and digital dating does rather limit my pool of potential lovers, but it’s a rule I’ve stuck to since I was a teenager. Frankly, I was born in the wrong era and prefer a lust-filled limerick to a dirty DM. I don’t use apps because I hate small talk. I’ve only ever dated friends of friends or people I’ve been set up with.