I'm not going to go on First Dates. And I'll tell you why. Because I'm not up for having to eat a meal with a man with an oppressive beard who wants to do Jager bombs during a civilized meal as if he's out on the freshers lash at three in the morning.
So we all know how nerve racking and uncomfortable dating can be; the awkward wander over to meet them that seems to feel like your embarking on a climb up Mount Everest (Do you make eye contact? Do you wave? Is that even them?)...
It's a scenario most single girls are familiar with. After somewhat of a dry spell (due to nothing other than your impossibly high standards, obviously) one lad manages to snag your attention and you agree to drinks and maybe even some food. Lucky him.
First dates are the romantic equivalent of vomiting: everyone fucking hates vomiting. This is crucial to the show's success, however, because as audience members we get to be voyeurs of this often excruciating experience, empathising from a safe distance.
As a trans woman, a large part of why I sleep with people early on is because I need to feel wanted, I need to feel attractive, I need to feel normal, because for me, most of the time those things are off limits, especially when it comes to dating