A Week on Feeld…as a queer woman in London

Our new A Week on Feeld series asks anonymous Feeld members to record a week of using the app – whether that’s back-to-back dates, long chats and verbal foreplay, or a reflective time on one's own. This week, a queer London woman (34) just out of a long-term relationship tells us about navigating her new, single, world.

Monday

It was a heavy weekend, so I’m feeling a bit fragile, but I have to go into the office. On the way to work I scroll through Feeld. A year ago I came out of a decade-long relationship with a man and realised, at the age of 34, that I’ve been queer my whole life. But I’ve definitely been making up for lost time. As part of this, I’m dating a lot while I figure out what I want. Everybody seems to be hedonistic and non-monogamous, and while I’m really enjoying this side of dating so far, sometimes I would like to find a partner to watch boxsets and eat takeaways with. By the time I’ve made it in I’ve got a kind-of date lined up with a really gorgeous non-binary human this week, somehow squeezed into my busy schedule.

I have a group chat with two of my best single friends where we swap the saucy details of our love lives. I tell them about my dates, and they are excited for me. My friendship group is very open-minded, and it’s nice to feel like I am being cheered on in my dating adventures as I figure out what I want, and who I am. I work in a charity and it’s really full on, but I make time for some virtual flirting. No date tonight, but tomorrow is another matter.

Tuesday

Date number one of the week tonight, with someone I’ve met a couple of times already. I’m not sure I’m really feeling it – they’re nice, but I’m meeting so many amazing people at the moment that the bar is high. Think like, Olympic pole vaulting high (with fewer poles, obviously). In the day I debate cancelling, but decide to give it one more go.

A heteroflexible couple get in touch with me today on the app, which makes me think about what I’m looking for and how it’s been refined over time. My journey to coming out was that I always thought I was straightforwardly bisexual, and I had relationships with men that weren’t quite right – but I thought it was them, not me. Turns out it actually was me! I consider the couple as I don’t want to limit my exploration, but I really just don’t feel attracted to cishet men any more. Now, a hot FF (or FFF, let’s dream big here) situation would be a different story…

I work late and rush to the date. They’re fine, but just…meh. All the way through the date my phone is pinging with texts from the person I matched with earlier, and it doesn’t feel fair to feel more excited about that than the current date I’m on. I go home alone and text her when I get back to say that I think she’s great, but I don’t see it working for us (after workshopping it with the group chat).

Wednesday

Today I have a hot hotel date with someone I have been seeing for a few months now, who I met on Feeld. Her profile didn’t give much away, but I’m very glad I took the chance to connect with her. She’s poly and bisexual, in an open marriage, so we know exactly where we are emotionally, which I appreciate. She’s older than me by quite a bit, very glamorous and well-off (think butch Emma Thompson vibes), and really gets off on wining and dining me, which I love. Tonight we are at some outrageously expensive sushi place, and drinking a lot of incredible wine. I feel nervous even thinking about the bill, but luckily I don’t get a chance to glance at it. Not gonna lie, when she pulls out her credit card and says “my husband will take care of it”, it’s hot – is that problematic? I decide I don’t care. At the hotel she gives me some gorgeous silk underwear and a leather harness.

Thursday

I’m surprisingly not hungover – that’s expensive wine for you. We have breakfast in bed, and then I go to work. I love that having so many dating adventures can feel like having a little secret life. Yes I may be eating chocolate digestives at my desk and discussing “deliverables”, but only hours ago I was getting fisted by a smoking hot woman in a luxurious central London hotel room ten floors up in the sky. I wonder if anybody can tell. Why has nobody told me how much better dating in your thirties is? Granted, I’m working with a whole different dating pool now. Why did nobody tell me how good fisting is? I idly wonder whether heterosexual dating is a conspiracy, before getting distracted by a video of a baby giraffe walking for the first time that my intern sends me. 

Me and the gorgeous human I matched with on Monday are going to say hi tonight at the queer night we’re both going to. I have butterflies thinking about it, and race home as soon as I can to get my glad rags on. Lately I’m feeling a lot of mesh in my outfits. I put on the harness from last night too – it’s too good not to. From sexy hotel wear to sexy club wear…kink can be so versatile!

I see them immediately when I arrive with my pals, and we beam at each other from across the dancefloor. I fight my way over to say hi after a drink (with much smoldering eye contact) and we immediately start making out. They drag me outside for a cigarette, and more making out. It’s not long before we decide to head back to my house. I feel bad that we’ve barely been there an hour, but also, not that bad.

Friday

A chill one tonight, I think. I’m exhausted and I’m going to a queer rave tomorrow that I’ve been looking forward to for months. My best friends come over to mine after work, and we make hummus and watch terrible TV all evening. My friend is having a bad time dating on the more traditional apps, so I convince her to join Feeld, and then we take it in turn swiping through her prospects. We don’t rest until we have one solid date lined up for her with a hot tall man who has just moved here from France and wants to be shown around…we reckon she might just be the perfect tour guide. The human I met yesterday texts to ask if I want to get brunch tomorrow morning – so wholesome?! Obviously I say yes.

Saturday

It’s the queer rave tonight, but first I have a long lie-in. Then brunch! I’m very excited about it. We meet at a veggie cafe where we eat our bodyweight in halloumi. They are even more gorgeous in daylight, with a platinum buzzcut that I am deeply envious of (I have amazing hair if I do say so myself, long and thick and curly like a sexy queer pre-Raphaelite, but sometimes it’s so tempting to go for a fun crop…) They’re a DJ and tell me about what they’re listening to at the moment; I’m love techno, so I’m enraptured. Afterwards we take a little walk in the park and make out under some trees. They seem pretty dominant, which is usually my role – I love this switch in our dynamics, especially as they seemed kinda shy and sweet at first!

I go home and get ready alone for the queer rave, blasting out my favorite tunes. Soon my friends arrive with booze, and we put a lot of bright makeup on each other’s faces. Though it’s hard to drag ourselves away from the fun of getting ready and enjoying each other’s company, eventually we get an Uber to an industrial estate in what feels like the middle of nowhere, where we dance until the early hours in a cavernous warehouse full of other joyful colorful queers. There are lots of serious cuties about, but I can’t stop thinking about my brunchmate. 

Sunday

I wake up on my best friend’s couch with a stale pint of water next to me. Luckily we’re both in the same boat. We lie around with cups of tea for a bit, before deciding to head out and get some food somewhere, and go over the night before. I kissed quite a few hotties, apparently. It’s very fun to be in my thirties and feeling kind of like a teenager again, but also, that’s London.

In the afternoon I alternate between doing a bit of extra work to get a head start on the week (which I actually do with enthusiasm, as we have a really exciting project coming up and I want us to totally boss it), and texting buzz-cut-brunch-babe. I’m tired but happy. Life is good when you are finally getting to become who you really are.