Posted in Single Life

5 ways to get guys to respond on Bumble.

I’ve tried nearly all the dating sites / apps out there and Bumble is definitely up there with the best ones.  I’ve successfully managed to talk to guys, convinced them that they wanted to go on a date with me, fallen into bed with them and then pined to my girlfriends about being ghosted.

I’m not claiming to be an expert in How To Date Men, in fact, this blog is a case-in-point in how little of an expert I am.  However, I’ve worked out a few ways in which I can actually get guys to respond to me, and here they are: (bare in mind that with Bumble, the girl has to talk first, hence why this is all about getting a response).

  1. Be Swipe Happy.  Abuse the judgey-quality of this app.  Don’t bother to read people’s bio’s.  This (rather ridiculously) is too time consuming; in the past, I’ve found I’ve become hung-up on someone I swiped ‘yes’ to because I liked their photos and bio and I awaited that ‘ping’ of a match, hoping I matched with this guy.  If you match with someone, then read a little more about them and start a conversation…
  2. Start a conversation with EVERYONE you match with.  Out of 20 people you match with in a 24 hour period, only about 3 will respond – or is this just me?  To maximise your chances of a response…
  3. Keep it simple.  Contrary to popular opinion, writing a lengthy message to say hello, comment on their photos or their profile and ask them a question seems like a waste of time to me.  It doesn’t guarantee a response.  So far, ‘Hello [insert name here]’ has worked wonders.  And if I’m feeling extra sparky, I’ll add a kiss x.
  4. Bypass all boring chat in the first few messages.  Where do you live?  What do you do for work?  Why are you on Bumble?  Have a giggle, talk shit and discover their [online..?!] personality.
  5. Be flirty, but not outrageous.  A little wink and a suggestive comment gets results.
Posted in Friends, Single Life


We’re in our 20’s.  There is no need to sit on top of the guy and snog his face off in the pub.  I was talking to him.  We are friends.  I know you’re seeing him, and shagging him.  And that’s fine.  I did that last year.  It didn’t work out.

You didn’t seem very friendly.  Were you judging me?  Were you threatened?

You don’t need to prove anything.  Yet, equally, you don’t own him.  He’s a grown-up.  He can talk to me and you can still go home with him.


Women are clever.

Said my mum.

You’re a pretty girl and she feels intimidated by you.

That may well be the case, Mummy, but it was strange how she snogged his face off in the pub.

Posted in Single Life

How to not give a fuck and feel fabulous (again).

Recently, men have been getting me down.  I’ve become prematurely excited about multiple boys and they’ve let me down.  Time and time again.  And I’ve cried more recently than I have in years (I am not a crier).

So in a bid to STOP BEING PATHETIC AND GET A GRIP, I’ve created a ‘Power Playlist’ on my iPhone.  We all know how music can affect our moods, and being sad is not a mood I enjoy, particularly as I am a bubbly person and eternally happy.  It’s full of all those songs I already have on my phone that, when they come on in the car, I am singing at the top of my lungs and feel indestructible and like no-one can dampen my fabulousness.

Here’s what’s on my Power Playlist:

  • Breathe ft Sean Paul – Blu Catrell.  A total banger.  This relationship isn’t working, let’s call it quits.
  • Mir A Nero (Original Mix) – Michel Cleis.  A jolly Spanish tune; just want to dance every time I hear it.
  • Hiding – Icarus.  “I’ll find somebody better than you.”  Enough said.
  • Ghosts – Higher Self ft Lauren Mason.  You’re no longer causing me agro and I no longer think about you.  Hurrah.
  • Beautiful Liar (Freemasons Dance Remix) – Beyonce and Shakira.  Two wonderful women.  Girl power all around.  You are stunning, but a dick.
  • Together – Tourist.  Despite this reminding me of my ex, and it’s about fancying someone, it’s such a SUPER song and I have this memory of hearing it, seeing my ex for the first time, looking and feeling fabulous and just loving life.  So it’s on here because it’s a feel-good song.  And it reminds me that I am fabulous and men do fancy me.
  • True Colours (Ali Emm Remix) – Sammy Porter ft Grace Fleary.  “Now I can see your true, true colours.  And that don’t work for me.”  Delightful lyrics.  Likewise: “And I will discover, that this [by ‘this’ she means the break up] is better for me.”
  • The Greatest ft Kendrick Lamar – Sia.  The ULTIMATE power song.
  • Sorry ft Lisa Pac – Urban Contact.  Female cover of JB’s ‘Sorry’.  So much better than the original.  I like to imagine my ex is singing it to me (yes, it’s a female singer, but oh well) and I say, ‘Yep, it’s too late.  Piss off.’
  • Elastic Heart – Sia.  Oh Sia.  You are a babe.
  • There is Hope – Zoo Brazil ft Rasmus Kellerman.  Cracking song all around.
  • Golden Ticket – Highasakite.  I heard this straight after I broke up with my ex (round one).  It was a good decision to leave.
  • Set Fire to the Rain (Thomas Gold Remix) – Adele.  Powerful woman.  Reminds me of fun uni times.
  • Trust – Kungs.  Another song that reminds me of my ex because we heard it together and listened to it all the time, but it’s about not wanting to wake up and repeat another day full of arguing.  I hear ya.
  • It Ain’t Me  – Kygo and Selena Gomez.  This came out at exactly the same time I broke up with my ex (round two).  “You were staying out all night and I had enough … I know I won’t be home and you’ll be on your own”.  Not sticking around to deal with your shit.  Farewell, my friend.
  • Dangerous Woman – Ariana Grande.  It’s in the name.
  • You Don’t Know Me Now – Mike Mago & Elderbrook.  Brilliant house song.
  • Not Above Love – Aluna George.  I have a weird relationship with this song.  When my ex and I were trying to be friends (post round one, prior to round two), he played this to me and I thought it was fab.  Whenever I hear it, I feel empowered because “I’m not above love, I just run out of air” – round one was too exhausting in the end.  But also it reminds me of that high of being with someone and feeling so totally in lust with them and I miss that sometimes.
  • Bad Karma – RIVRS.  100% this man: Fuckboy F******.
  • Prayer in C (Robin Schulz Remix) – Lilly Wood & The Prick.  Once again, about an arsehole of a man.
  • Just – Bicep.  Fantastic house song.  Shortly after round one ended, I went to my sister’s house party and I was surrounded by friends and my sisters and lots of fun.  Top night.  Top tune.
  • Maze – Aria.  “Told you I was sick of your games.”

(22 songs, 1 hour 39 minutes; plenty to cheer me up).

Everyone needs a ‘power playlist’

Posted in Single Life

They can be a pretty frightening bunch.

I’m confident as ‘me’.  I know what I want and I often go after it.  I give fewer fucks about what people think.  I’m emotionally strong, and getting physically stronger too.  But this still doesn’t stop guys hurting me.  I’m scared you’re going to shatter my confidence.  I hate the effect you can have on me; pathetically waiting by my phone, hoping you’ll text.  I hate how hard it is to feel my strength and independence when I know I was used.  I’m scared you’ll do something to me and I won’t be able to stop you – after all, you are bigger and stronger than me.  I cannot run fast, and I know you can run faster.

There have been times when I’ve had to say ‘no’ firmly to stop the advances.  There have been times when I didn’t enjoy the sex , even though I wanted it, but I have never felt forced into something I didn’t want to do.  I know not all women can say the same, and this makes me sad.

I have never felt unsafe in Brighton, but last night I was walking the 3 minute walk from the pub to the taxi rank and this bloke called after me.  We didn’t know one another, but he caught up with me and we shared a conversation.  He asked where I was going.  Home.  Can he come?  No.  Do I want to go back to his?  No thank you.  Am I sure?  Would I at least like to go to his car?  I am sure, and no thanks.

Fine, bitch, fuck you then.

Excuse me?!  We have been speaking for all of 2 minutes, before which I didn’t even know you existed.  Of course I don’t want to get into a stranger’s car, or go back to their house.  And his disbelief in that I felt this was a bad idea is astonishing.

I wonder how often he has done this; approached a woman with the assumption she’ll be gagging to go somewhere (anywhere?!) and shag him.  I wonder if any woman has accepted his indecent proposal.  I wonder why, WHY, he thinks it’s acceptable to then call the rejecting female a ‘bitch’ and swear at her.  It really ought to be the other way around.  But I fear I would have got a slap in the face, or worse, if I told him to go and fuck himself.

This doesn’t mean I won’t walk back to the taxi rank alone again.  This doesn’t mean I won’t wear a dress and heels again.  This doesn’t mean I’ll bat off any male advances with a fear they only have one thing on their mind.  But what it does mean, is there is something wrong with this man’s attitude.  And my experience of being used then ghosted has shown that this attitude festers in more men’s minds than it should.

Posted in Single Life

If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.

My friend and I were at a busy bar in Brighton last weekend and table space was at a premium.  We found a table for 4, sat down with our cocktails and enjoyed our evening.  Not long after, two men asked if they could sit at the table with us.  When my friend went to get another round in, one of the guys initiated a conversation with me.  He reckoned he could guess my career, and admittedly he could – by the second attempt.  He made polite small talk and asked if I like to dance.  When I said I do, but not to this music (swing), he presumed I was shy.  I told him I wasn’t, then he asked why I didn’t have much confidence.  I told him I do.  Then he questioned why advances from men don’t flatter me.

Needless to say, on my friend’s return to the table, we found somewhere else to sit and enjoy our cocktails and our evening – without the arsey opinions of this complete stranger.

Posted in Single Life

The Canadian

There was an understated coolness about you.  Much to my surprise, you weren’t surrounded by girls or friends.  I can’t remember who approached whom, but I do remember laughing a lot and the seductive stares that were a fraction-too-long.  We went bar-hopping round my favourite places in Brighton; I really felt I was guiding you through a top-quality Friday night in Brighton.

We had a platonic sleepover.  I found out your exotic (yet poignantly appropriate) name, where you had been, where you were off to next, your hobbies, your quirks, your habits.  We shared so much in our evening together and we clicked in a way friends who haven’t seen each other in ages do.  Sharing a bed (and thoughts) was clearly needed for the both of us.

In the morning, I disclosed to you one of my most sacred things: my fail-safe hangover cure process.

Tea isn’t a thing for us…

Until I convinced you it should be.

You’re so energetic…

And then I proved to you this is the way to be.

Energy and tea lead to cuddles, snogs and life plans.  And then it was time to drive you back to your hotel.

Have an awesome day in London,

he said.

Have a fantastic time travelling,

said I.

Posted in Single Life

I didn’t believe in ‘too good to be true’…

What a phenomenal first date!  Every single thing was perfect.  There was so much chemistry.  It was a long first date – at least 6 hours out and about, followed by a sleepover.

And wow, what a sleepover..!

In the morning, you left for work with a genuine promise to text later that day.

Oh my god.  What a wait.  I have never been more glued to my phone and on the edge of my seat as much as I was that day.

No message all evening…  Fortunately, my housemate was to hand and we had a fabulous night; albeit tainted by your silence.

By Sunday morning, I was feeling very, very low.  And very used, stupid, slutty and embarrassed.  You had so much charm and there was so much chemistry and you genuinely seemed to like me.  My housemates were gunning for you and me to get together.  However, your silence meant I was beginning to think I had read you – and our date – wrong.  The likelihood of you being just another ‘fuck-boy’ was increasing.

All boys are arseholes; there really are no good ones left.



We texted a bit.  Things were looking good and I was getting excited.  But naturally I was being really chilled and cool outwardly.

Another excellent date happened on the Wednesday and you asked if I was free last weekend.

Inevitably, we had another sleepover because you were so charming and we had so much chemistry (have I said that?) –  there was no pressure to shag.  You even said that even if we slept together this evening that wouldn’t mean you wouldn’t want to see me on Saturday.

On Thursday morning we both went to work.  Saturday was pencilled in.

You said you were shit at texting right from the start, so I wasn’t overly worried we only shared a few texts over the Thursday and Friday.  But then Saturday rolled around and I had barely heard from you.  By the afternoon, I dropped you a casual text to find out what was happening in the evening.  You texted back pretty late saying you couldn’t make it because of family arrangements, but was I free over bank holiday?  I replied a little later.

By Monday, you still hadn’t messaged.  I tried to be chilled and reckoned you were just busy: you said you were crap at texting and I had no reason to think you weren’t interested – and we only met a week ago, but we had planned for Saturday night and so I began to panic we wouldn’t see each other.

I have the worst luck with men and I thought I’ve finally met someone who my friends would say is ‘too good to be true’  but I reckoned all of that was bollocks.

Too good to be true doesn’t exist.

Or maybe it does.

By Tuesday evening, I hadn’t heard anything.  I was feeling very deflated, used and naive.  I sought my mum’s advice: I sent a passive-aggressive text:

ME: I didn’t see that one coming.  What an idiot I am.

Subtext: You fucking smooth arsehole.

HIM: I’ve been such a wally.  Should have messaged you ages ago, just been so busy with work.  I think your [sic] such a lovely, warm person but I can’t be in a relationship right now.  Sorry if I pissed you off.

Subtext: We shagged, and now I’m done.