There's this guy I met on a dating app. We spoke briefly, but there was something about the way he looked—soft brown hair down to the nape of his neck, face as if it was sculpted out of stone by the finest artist and a charming personality which made his words seem like they were written by Shakespeare himself. My friends all told me that he wasn't anything special, that I was being stupid. But I couldn't help it.
I have always had a thing for older men - when I was 18 and I had just moved into university, I was sleeping with someone 5 years my senior (that I had met on a dating app) for a good couple of months. It was exciting, yes, but that was only at the start. When he started talking about stuff I wasn't interested in - mortgages, housing and general old person lingo - I quickly cut the ties.
When I'm not being a home-wrecker, I spend my time sleeping with many unfamiliar faces (whether it be men I match on dating apps, meet in clubs, or come across in my day to day university life). By the time I was 19, I'd slept with around 25 different guys, most of them only on one occasion.
After breaking up with my first boyfriend, the urges for sex with random strangers became more and more overwhelming. I don't know what appealed me to it so much—I usually put it down to being so insecure that I use this to feel wanted and validated. Although, that's what I tell myself—I might just be an awful person, who knows.
Forgive me father, for I have sinned. On multiple occasions.