GRACE CROWLEY ref lects on her dating story

The never-ending game of “Do I Fancy You?” began when I was 18. I was just out of my first relationship and desperate not to waste my first year at uni moping about in halls. One of my now best friends helped me make a Tinder account. We squashed up next to each other on my single bed, surrounded by posters that covered the asbestos peeking through the wall, and sifted through my camera roll to curate a profile. What followed was a romantic rollercoaster. From the wholesome to the haunting, each of these dates shaped the way I see sex, relationships and myself.

You look so much like my ex

An overgrown, dodgy park near my student halls was the perfect setting for my first and worst Tinder date. He wore an offensively colourful 1980s ski jacket, making it impossible for me to pretend I just didn’t see him and scarper back upstairs. I quickly knew I had made a mistake. Monologues about himself as a tortured artist – despite never really giving me a clear answer on what it was he created – poured out of his mouth. He told me about how he was really into “neo-bop jazz”. For a moment, I felt so silly for not knowing what any of those words meant – I listened to the 1975 and thought that was quite edgy. The hour stretched. I spent most of our walk thinking about whether he was ever going to ask me a question. He didn’t. When my crumbling uni halls were finally in sight, I couldn’t wait to escape. My damp room felt like the luxury getaway of my dreams. Then he said it. The one thing you never say. “You look like my ex.” In some ways, I have to thank him for his audacity. Soon after our disastrous date, I switched my dating apps to show me women only and I haven’t looked back since!