Halfway through our date I found out she was 15 years older than me
London when I was 23. Her cute black dress and lip piercing caught my eye and we started talking over our vodka Red Bulls, which quickly turned into a cheeky snog on the sticky dance floor.
The night was a blur of dancing and flashing lights, and I left with her number in my phone and the promise to get a drink together the following weekend.
I stumbled out of the club to get cheesy chips with my best friends, a huge grin plastered across my face. I had come out as bisexual the year before – realising my sexuality quite late compared to some – so the idea of my first ever date with a woman after previously being exclusively with men was exciting.
I wore red lipstick and my favourite hoops, and met with her at a pub in Shoreditch. The date started off well. We drank beers and got to know each other, chatting about the best London spots, our jobs, and what we had done for Pride that summer.
