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Metro
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Metro
I turned to ChatGPT to explain why my date went so wrong
'Let their action determine your next move – not your hope'. Staring down at my phone screen, I was so relieved to read these words. Trying to find the reason for yet another disastrous date, I had turned to the best source of clear, unbiased advice I could think of: ChatGPT. Sure, it wasn't exactly romantic but suddenly the patterns of my dating life were all starting to make sense, and I wasn't stuck in an agonising mental loop trying to figure it out. Two weeks previously, I had woken up in a hotel room, in a foreign city, rigid, shaking and tearful – my nervous system shot to pieces from a day spent masking and being on edge. My date had just left. I'd asked him if he thought we'd see each other again. 'It's not a hard yes but it's not a hard no,' he said. I understood he meant 'no'. I'd recently read a book about attachment styles and avoidant men and yet here I was again, rejected. Our first date had been amazing… How had it gone so wrong? Flashback to a couple of months earlier. I was back on the apps after a two-year break, and was just as bored as I'd been when I used them before. Too many men just wanted to text and never meet. X Factor icon Diana Vickers and Metro's dating expert Alice Giddings dive into your wildest sex, love, and dating dilemmas – every Tuesday. Listen wherever you get your podcasts or watch on YouTube. And be sure to follow and subscribe so you never miss an episode. You can also join the fun on our WhatsApp Group Chat here – share your dilemmas and Diana and Alice may just give you a call. When a Dutch guy popped up, in town for a few days, I swiped past his profile because of its lack of detail. But, when he bypassed the small talk and suggested a spontaneous meet-up I thought, why not? I'd been planning on doing a nature hike the next day – he would either be good company or, at worst, good exercise for a couple of hours. I never count first meets as dates and I knew the hiking route was popular and safe. We arrived almost at the same time and he was easy to pick out from his photo. I wasn't immediately attracted – but he turned out to be excellent company. We talked about relationships, psychology and gender roles, careers, crypto, my kids and that fact he wanted children and a dog. When the hike was over, he suddenly kissed me. 'I just felt like kissing you, so I did,' he said. It was flattering, though I was mainly buzzing from the mental stimulation that comes from great conversation. So, How Did It Go? is a weekly series that will make you cringe with second-hand embarrassment or ooze with jealousy as people share their worst and best date stories. Want to spill the beans about your own awkward encounter or love story? Contact I suggested we meet again that evening and he agreed. Now I was counting it as a date. It was fun to do my hair and feel exhilarated about someone for the first time in ages. We flirted and kissed all night and had genuine, deep conversations. Three times he said, 'Well, if you come to Holland…' I got home at 5am on a high, faith in dating apps restored. We messaged a couple of times throughout his last day and I asked if he'd meant it that I should visit. His answer was a bit of a cold shower: 'The offer still stands but you'll have to get an Airbnb'. I talked myself round; I wouldn't be comfortable in someone's house after just one date, anyway. So I booked a flight and hotel for two months' time. We texted occasionally in the meantime, which was fine by me. He checked in about my flight and asked if there was anything I wanted to do. There were some cheesy, sexual messages which were not so fine by me but by then my flight was tied to a work trip and cancelling would have been expensive and complicated. He picked me up from the airport and he was friendly but not affectionate. I followed his lead but from the outset, I was confused about what the vibe was meant to be. Our second date was a long, boring day spent talking, hanging out and going to the cinema to see the new Bridget Jones. He was still an interesting conversationalist but it was completely platonic – he didn't flirt or touch me – and I was increasingly on edge, trying to work out what was going on while acting like things were fine. When we left the cinema, he suddenly asked, 'Would you like me to come to your hotel?' I said yes, thinking this would be how we got back to what it was like before. But when we got there, he whipped out a packet of condoms – and a sex toy. 'That's way too zero to 60 for me,' I told him. But I was looking for the missing connection and so had sex. He came, I didn't, he didn't seem to notice and, shocker, I didn't feel connected. Back home, I didn't expect to hear from him again but, a week later, he messaged to say he thought we should leave it there as 'an unexpected adventure'. I wasn't interested in him any longer but I was keen to understand what the hell happened, and I needed to know how to break my pattern of always being drawn to avoidant men. Most of all, I couldn't get one question out of my head: why would he invite me to visit (three times!) and then act completely uninterested and cold? That's when I thought of ChatGPT. I created a relationship therapist and trained it on attachment styles based on the book I'd read. I fed in a detailed account of both dates and the exported file of our short but, it turns out, revealing WhatsApp chats. ChatGPT immediately analysed all the signs he was avoidant and not genuinely interested. There were far more of them than I'd seen myself. His spontaneous kiss after the hike, asking if I wanted him to come back to my hotel – both could be interpreted as low-risk, high-reward plays if he wasn't invested in the outcome. The big mystery was solved when ChatGPT showed me how I had mistakenly heard a genuine invitation when what he had actually said was 'vague, polite, and non-committal, designed to keep the moment feeling warm without emotional responsibility […] which he never backed up with: Initiative. A plan. Clear interest in seeing you again.' It was clear how his non-invitation had dictated everything about the second date. If I'd known, I never would have gone. More Trending Since then, I've honestly enjoyed talking about dating with ChatGPT far more than the actual dates. I've used my AI therapist to unpick two previous disastrous experiences with avoidant men, mentally broken up with an unrequited two-year crush and reformulated my Hinge profile to add emotional depth specifically to repel avoidants. My profile no longer centres the idea that I'm fun, easy-going and available to hang out as that is catnip to them. I hardly get any matches now, which is great, actually. View More » I am optimistic, however. Maybe there aren't that many secure single men out there but at least AI means I will never get caught in an entanglement with one of them again. Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: I told my husband 'we're over' after carrying the mental load alone MORE: My 'healthy' habit landed me in A&E – I was given a warning MORE: Lyme disease destroyed my life – it all started with a tick
Metro
05-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Metro
My date saw nothing wrong with him and his mum's sleeping arrangement
Standing in his bedroom, staring at the two single mattresses pushed together, my date, Will*, pointed to the one on the left. 'This is where I sleep', he said. Without blinking, he moved his hand to the mattress on the right. A part of me knew what he was going to say next and I felt a panic rise in me. '…and this is where Mummy sleeps'. Alarm bells were ringing so loudly they were all I could hear. The Oedipus complex was very real. When we arrived at his house earlier that night, Will said his mum was out, but that I would most likely meet her later. I hadn't expected to meet a parent so soon – this was only our second date – and by the end of the house tour, I was thoroughly shaken. I don't know what compelled me to stay except a morbid curiosity to meet the woman who had borne such a weirdly attached son. Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! Will was pouring himself a whiskey, when his mum abruptly entered. I immediately stood up to greet her, but she didn't exactly shake my hand back. In fact, she ignored me and instead, picked up an ironing board, bundle of clothing and began ironing – with a face like thunder. I sat back down, confused – I didn't react, I was taken aback and sat in awkward silence. 'Mummy, don't be rude to my guest!' Will slurred. She stormed off upstairs to their bedroom. It takes a lot to make me uncomfortable, but this scene was undeniably awkward. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was merely trying to go on a sweet and innocent date – how did I end up here? Earlier that month, as I was weaving through a dive venue with a pint, someone stumbled in my periphery. I turned around to apologise and was met with a twenty-something wearing an outrageously expensive suit. A little incongruous for this gig, it wasn't really the dress code. But instead of turning away, he started to engage in conversation. He was handsome, so I let it happen. He theatrically pretended to be blown away by my perfume – 'you smell incredible! What is that?!' he yelled over the music. I replied that it was Dolce & Gabbana's 'Light Blue', which I had doused myself in for a date – but I was there alone. It had been six long months of singledom and I was ready to date again. I met a friend of a friend on a night out, and organised this date with him. But, standing there on the night, I realised he wasn't going to turn up. And I must admit, I was enjoying Will's attention. He asked me about my 'situation', to which I honestly answered, 'single'. So, How Did It Go? is a weekly series that will make you cringe with second-hand embarrassment or ooze with jealousy as people share their worst and best date stories. Want to spill the beans about your own awkward encounter or love story? Contact This gave him the signal he needed and he leaned in – we shared an electric and passionate kiss and swapped numbers. I soon forgot about being stood up. After a week of messaging, we met for a date in Soho. We sat at the bar mixing all our drinks and got tipsy quickly. The conversation flowed and we laughed a lot. At that point, I thought he was a promising date and I could see myself with him. I noticed Will talked about his mum a lot, and at first, I admired his respect for her. When I brought up his dad, he brushed him off as an 'idiot father' with a grimace. He didn't want to talk about him, so I continued to listen about his saint mother. The date ended with a kiss and when I arrived home, Will had messaged: 'let's do this again soon?' I fancied him and was looking forward to lining up a second date. The following week, Will was waiting for me at the Tube station and walked us to a bustling nearby pub. We still had chemistry, laughter and good conversation – so I ignored the potential mummy issues I clocked on the first date. After last orders, Will suggested drinks and a tour of his fixer-upper home. He claimed to be able to make a mean whiskey cocktail and had all the ingredients, so I accepted the invite – the pace felt right. I knew I should have fled after the bedroom tour and I regretted not going with my gut. But the time had finally come and I politely made my excuse to head home. I was freaked out. I told a couple of close friends whose jaws hit the floor. So I was surprised when Will texted me three weeks after the second date, the day before Valentine's Day with 'I don't have time to be your boyfriend, but we could be friends with benefits?' His busy schedule was the least of my concerns. I could have ghosted but courteously declined his booty call request and never saw him again. This experience, while a great story, has taught me to be more discerning when dating. I was younger then, but now, I'm not afraid to ask questions if a guy presents an amber flag. More Trending In this case, although there's nothing wrong with having a close relationship with your mother, there's a line between healthy and unhinged. There are limits to everything and my limit was Will. *Name has been changed This article was originally published May 3, 2025 MORE: I'm 53 and have never had savings – I thought that was normal MORE: I love the Wimbledon queue almost as much as the tennis MORE: I always get the 'heatwave horn' – it's the same every summer Your free newsletter guide to the best London has on offer, from drinks deals to restaurant reviews.
Metro
21-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Metro
I told my date my sexual preferences and was immediately ghosted
I met Chris* on Facebook. He appeared in the 'people you may know section' and I sent a friend request. My first impression was that he was handsome, clean-cut, and had a cheeky smile. I'd been liking his posts here and there, then watching his stories too. We eventually progressed to talking via Facebook messenger and the banter was instant. He was flirtatious but never too much, and charming in a way that felt unpracticed. One day, I wrote a post saying that I would be going to the States for Pride, alongside a sexy photo, and straight away, Chris sent me a DM: 'Do I finally get to meet you?' He was coincidentally going to the same Pride. I replied: 'If you play your cards right!' I didn't think too much about him, as I knew there would be a lot of guys around. But when there, I found that I had a few nights where I wasn't hanging out with my friends. We ending up making dinner plans and I remember feeling excited in that teenage, stomach-flipping way that makes you overthink your outfit but still walk in pretending you didn't. With thousands of members from all over the world, our vibrant LGBTQ+ WhatsApp channel is a hub for all the latest news and important issues that face the LGBTQ+ community. Simply click on this link, select 'Join Chat' and you're in! Don't forget to turn on notifications! He looked even better in person — soft-spoken but confident, and a subtle smile that made you feel like the only person in the room. We danced, drank, and talked lots – about politics, families, queer identity, bad dating stories, good ones, and the weird line between ambition and burnout. After going to a club, we walked aimlessly through the warm, and very humid streets. It was so romantic. We sat on a bench. Chris leaned in and we kissed. That's how the night ended — not in a bed, but on a bench, with the kind of kiss that makes you forget where you are. Back in my hotel room, I couldn't sleep. I replayed the whole evening in my head — the way he listened, the way he smelled, the way he said my name like he already knew me. I don't know what possessed me, but I sent him a photo. Not too explicit, but suggestive enough. I guess I wanted to keep the momentum going. I was still high off the date. Chris replied instantly with a fire emoji, then, 'You're seriously hot.' Then I decided to step up the flirtation. I sent him a picture of me in a jockstrap from behind showing my glutes. It was one of my favourite snaps to send. He replied, 'Why on earth have you sent me a photo of your ass?' And then came his question: 'So you top, right?' I hesitated, then replied honestly: 'I'm a bottom.' I waited for his response. Nothing. So, How Did It Go? is a weekly series that will make you cringe with second-hand embarrassment or ooze with jealousy as people share their worst and best date stories. Want to spill the beans about your own awkward encounter or love story? Contact Ten minutes went by. Thirty. An hour. I tapped his profile — still active. Still posting memes the next morning. Still watching my stories. But he never texted back. At first, I thought maybe something happened. Then I realised: I'd been ghosted — not for what I did, or didn't do, but for what I wasn't. Chris had just assumed I was a top. And when he found out I wasn't, he must have lost interest. This wasn't the first time it's happened either. People assume I top. And I get it. I lift. I'm broad-shouldered. I post gym selfies sometimes. And I'm Black. So there's a whole extra layer there — this cultural baggage, this hypersexualised, hypermasculine fantasy that gets projected onto me constantly. On apps, in DMs, even in the way people talk to me in real life. There's this assumption that I'm dominant, aggressive, always in control. I used to go along with it, thinking maybe that's what I should be. But the truth is, I feel most alive — most me — when I bottom. It took a while to unlearn the shame. To realise that sex isn't a performance, and masculinity isn't a position. I started opening up more — not just about what I liked, but about what I needed. Probably about three years after I met Chris, I started exploring being versatile. But not to please anyone else – to know myself better. To own my desires instead of tailoring them to someone else's expectations. Life now is… fuller. I've dated people who see me as a whole person, not just a category. And I've had to block a few people who still send 'you're too hot to bottom' messages like it's a compliment. Looking back, I don't hate Chris. I think he showed me something — some people just aren't made for you. We may be a match now that I top too, but choosing to ghost me rather than just have a conversation is not on. It's cowardly. More Trending Perhaps it was even a blessing in disguise that we never made it to the bedroom. Today, I can now say that I am 100% versatile – and I feel that I get the best of both worlds. For this reason, I am living my best and most authentic full life. And I want someone who appreciates every aspect of me – including a picture from behind in a jockstrap. View More » *Name has been changed Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: Last 'LGBT free zones' in Poland are finally scrapped – what happens next? MORE: My mother's words as I fled my homeland ring in my ears MORE: I'm allowed to date other women – my partner isn't
Metro
07-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Metro
My date was a terrible kisser - but that wasn't the worst part
Jay* held my hand as he walked me back to my car, telling me he didn't want the night to end. We had talked and laughed throughout dinner before going to a show. We spoke about everything, from my disability – I am an ambulatory wheelchair user with chronic pain, as well as autistic and have ADHD – my job, love of musical theatre, and his passion for travel. He even told me more about his family and how he had recently been to visit them for a holiday. When we got back into my car after my dream date, we continued talking, while listening to music. Eventually he leaned over and kissed me. I'd been waiting for this all night. And that's where things started to go wrong. The kiss was bad. Oh god, it was terrible. It was sloppy, all teeth, as if he'd never kissed anyone before and had no idea what he was doing. He'd clearly never even practiced on the back of his hand. He kissed me a few more times and I found myself pulling away because it was so unappealing. I was shocked and extremely disappointed; kissing is important to me – I love a snogging session. Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! So, How Did It Go? is a weekly series that will make you cringe with second-hand embarrassment or ooze with jealousy as people share their worst and best date stories. Want to spill the beans about your own awkward encounter or love story? Contact I went home feeling unsure. Jay was the best date I'd had in a long time but if he couldn't deliver on the kissing front, I wasn't sure I was willing to compromise. This uncertainty prompted me to try to find out more about him. Jay had sent me a screenshot of our dinner table reservation, which had given me his full name, so I typed it into the search engine. His Facebook account popped straight up. And right there, at the top of his feed, was a wedding picture of him and his new bride – from three weeks earlier. I felt a punch in my stomach, and then I started to laugh. I had been lied to and didn't even consider there to be another explanation. He was married. And I instantly decided that I was never seeing him again. I clicked on the picture. There were over 30 comments congratulating Jay and his wife, as well as his replies, thanking them. The most galling part is that the pictures were taken in the same location he had told me he had been to visit his family on 'holiday'. But that was clearly where he had done his wedding ceremony. By this time, it was after midnight and I knew Jay would be asleep. So I decided to take a screenshot of the wedding photo with the comments and send it to him on WhatsApp. 'Would you like to explain this?' I wrote. No immediate response. Lying in bed that night, I couldn't help but look back on the date. There wasn't actually anything he said or did to raise any red flags that he could be married, so I'm glad I was proactive and looked him up. A part of me was relieved because this meant that I didn't have to kiss him again. In fact, I even felt sorry for his wife. The next morning, I still didn't have a reply from Jay so I checked his profile and discovered that he had blocked me on everything. To this day, I have never seen or heard from him. H The whole experience made me even more cautious about dating than I already was; it made me question others' intentions, whether they are already in a relationship, who to trust, and so much more. More Trending Yet I knew I couldn't judge all men by that one guy. That hasn't stopped me from asking dates I've been on if they're married. I try to laugh it off, but it is always in the back of my head that I am being lied to. I am extremely paranoid. I now know to trust my gut when it comes to bad kissing – and definitely not settle for it. *Name has been changed Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: I discovered my parents' secret aged 8 – I kept it until 16 MORE: 'Taking my rapist to court was worse than what he did to me' MORE: I asked my partner to choose the porn I watched for a week Your free newsletter guide to the best London has on offer, from drinks deals to restaurant reviews.
Metro
31-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Metro
The date was going well - until we hit a strip club
At 25, I hit the dating apps – hard. I'd been single for about 18 months, having split with my long-term boyfriend for the simple reason that you don't tend to marry the guy you met at Clapham's Infernos when you're 21. It turned out I could do well as I really fancy short(er) guys, and every other woman seemed not to. I didn't have to be the best looking woman in the world, I just had to be in their inbox. While the app wasn't full of firemen, police men, or other hunks as the promo content implied (maybe they were thinking of the Village People?), I quickly matched with Dylan* and we started chatting. We almost got into a weird, penpal-type situation where we'd send each other long, hilarious messages that were almost competitively funny. So when he broke the jam and suggested going drinking and people-watching in a central London bar at 3pm on a Saturday, I agreed. While I was happy to go where the night took me, I had no idea just how mad things would get on that date. He arrived late and flustered, but at 5'7, blonde, blue-eyed and almost angelic-looking, he was forgiven. We sat at an outside table and ordered this fancy new drink everyone was talking about: a mojito. We nattered away, with Dylan telling me an anecdote about a dead dog on the Tube. Love reading juicy stories like this? Need some tips for how to spice things up in the bedroom? Sign up to The Hook-Up and we'll slide into your inbox every week with all the latest sex and dating stories from Metro. We can't wait for you to join us! Sadly, it was a classic urban legend I'd read on the internet years before. Still, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, and the chat was soon flowing as well as the drinks. One mojito turned into two, which turned into 10, and when it was closing time, we weren't sure where to go next. That's when someone, I truly can't remember who, suggested the strip club. Obviously, it was 'for a joke' but suddenly, we were heading to a London erotic dancing venue famed for being a tourist trap. I think we thought we were young, wild, and hedonistic. We were certainly very, very drunk and on a date that had now been going for 10 hours too long. Inside, it was immediately awkward. The dancers seemed as bemused as we were at the situation. We were shown to the table and audibly gulped at the prices. About £7 a beer – which all those years ago, was a lot. But we decided to drink through it. Dylan paid for everything, doing that very male thing of saying, 'No, no, I've got this, don't worry', despite the very large bill. So, How Did It Go? is a weekly series that will make you cringe with second-hand embarrassment or ooze with jealousy as people share their worst and best date stories. Want to spill the beans about your own awkward encounter or love story? Contact Neither of us wanted private shows, but within minutes a dancer had clambered onto the table, kicking over our overpriced beers in the process. She was wearing underwear but was completely topless. Dylan was more embarrassed than me, so he didn't really look. While Dylan was studying the menu prices and fending off dancers trying to drag him into the champagne room, I ended up talking to one known as 'Sapphire' for ages about her university course. She was studying biomedical sciences, so we spent half the night huddled over a napkin brainstorming career options over the top of very loud 90s R&B. 'Most expensive date I've ever been on,' Dylan muttered as we left around 4am. We went back to his place, a sprawling four-storey house he shared with his siblings in South London. But we didn't have sex: I don't think either of us could, or wanted to at that point – either down to drunkenness, overexposure, or both! Eventually, our conversation started to fizzle out. He started seeing someone else, and so did I. I told the story a few times to friends and forgot about him. Until one bank holiday weekend, around a year later. It was around 1am, and I was outside my flat with two mates, when a black cab pulled up. Dylan stepped out. More Trending He'd been nearby, remembered I lived around there from a cancelled plan months before, and thought he'd try his luck. No message. No call. No heads up. He hugged me like no time had passed and he joined me and my mates upstairs for a spontaneous drinking session. Sooner or later, Dylan and I were having sex in my bathroom, as my housemate who actually had to work that next day angrily banged on the door. He left in the morning, and I never saw him again. But I do still have that napkin with the biomedical science CV notes, in a shoebox of odd memories under my bed, just in case Sapphire ever needs it. Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: I filmed myself having sex – I was shocked it turned me on MORE: I got gonorrhoea, but my doctor doubted my explanation MORE: After a bad breakup two years ago, my boyfriend and I are trying again
