I am no longer kissing on the first date

A case for taking it slow.

My freshman year of college I told everyone I wasn’t a virgin. I wanted to seem cool and seasoned. Mature. I came of age watching movies like American Pie and The 40 Year Old Virgin and listening to songs like I Just Had Sex by the Lonely Island. Being a virgin wasn’t cool, though most of my friends at the time were virgins and they were cool. I regret lying to them. I’d go out to parties and watch as my friends were approached by boys and I wondered why not me? I wanted to be prey. A sexy, irresistible deer, drunk dancing on a table at a frat party, vulnerable to whatever predator deemed me worthy. Despite witnessing the aftermath of what it meant to be preyed upon, I wanted to be chosen. At least it meant I was desirable. I suppose this is part of the double standard women are taught. You want to be so sexy a man is simply compelled to ravage you, but when it happens, you’re left feeling empty.

When I finally had sex it was with a stranger from Tinder. As a lifelong masturbator, I know my body well and it doesn’t take much to get me off. I have orgasmed with all but one sexual partner, and that dude truly did not try. I didn’t tell the man I had lost my virginity to that he had been bestowed this special honor until years later as a way to get him to leave me alone. It worked. 

Once I started having sex I could not stop. Sophomore year of college I was insatiable, thumbing through a roster of men I had matched with on Tinder and Bumble. Adam on Tuesday and Max on Thursday. At the time I would’ve told you I was having fun, exploring my body, cumming left and right. Looking back I realize there was much more unfolding underneath the surface.

In the time since I started having sex I went from my “slut era” to being in a toxic relationship to haphazardly dating in New York City to coming out as queer months before a pandemic. In my post-pandemic dating life I’ve had a difficult time building intimacy with people, to a point where I stopped trying. Instead I focused on healing. I started therapy. I began to better understand and have since started the process of scrutinizing my patterns, but there’s a limit to what you can do on your own. 

I had to leave New York to learn I’m sexually and romantically desirable. I’ve discovered a new way to date and it’s working better for me: I am no longer kissing on the first date. I’m making a case for taking it slow. 

I’ve gone from almost exclusively fucking on the first date to using dates as a way to get to know the other person, without forcing intimacy before we both feel ready. Revolutionary. In the past if I didn’t kiss on a first date, I would’ve assumed it meant we had no chemistry and we weren’t going to work out, but recently I’ve been going on dates with new friends and not kissing. I love it. 

I didn’t kiss one of the people I’ve been dating here in LA until our third date and when we finally did, it was electric. Not only does building tension and excitement lead to a better payoff, as we get to know each other, we’re building safety. I’m at a place in my life where safety is my number one priority when it comes to intimacy. There are no guarantees in this life, but coming from a pattern of not factoring in my own safety to taking my time to build a strong foundation before exploring sex with a new person, is a game changer for me.

Dating this way makes it difficult to comprehend how I could’ve had sex with strangers with ease. I suppose I didn’t know any better. Or perhaps I wasn’t having sex with ease but instead pushing away my true feelings as a protective mechanism. Plenty of people enjoy having sex immediately upon meeting and have built long lasting relationships from one night stands. There’s also many people who don’t need to build a safe base with every person they bone. As I’m getting older, I’m discovering my personal preferences when it comes to dating. Coming to terms with my needs and sharing them with romantic interests is important. 

I am not a prop for someone else. My body and mind don't exist to please. I am a living, breathing human who deserves to share how they feel. I may not get what I ask for, but I get to feel safe enough to put it on the table. This may all seem obvious, but it took me 28 years to learn and truly feel this way. For me this means no more kissing on a first date. Not as a rule, but as a guideline to remind myself to take it slow and build something with someone trustworthy. I gotta say, so far it’s working out quite well.