I had a theory that we develop the ick when our attraction for someone has already started to wane. And the “ick” element we’ve zoned in on becomes the perfect fall guy, the reason why we simply CANNOT be touched / hand held/ sniffed by our beloved. Beyond the more pivotal reasons that we tend to break up with people like different priorities, moral codes, a preference for real life murder documentary series over romcoms etc. My theory about attraction wasn’t far off but turns out the smaller ‘ick’ things are kind of linked to the bigger ones too.

Having sex on the first date can be hot, it’s all new and passionate and fumbley but in a gorgeously awkward way. Discovering someone’s body can just feel like a great extension of the intimacies you’ve already exchanged about your childhood pet fish Parsley, whilst delightfully stripping each other off. Most of the feral/flirty community shared the sentiment of: FUCK yes! Try before you buy!! And with all of this ringing in my ears, I went on a pretty successful (translated – sexy) first date this week. And found out what happens when someone’s idea of you collides with who you actually are.

Now, I’m talking about the people that despite being otherwise spoken for send fire emojis to your insta story, hit you with a 3 minute long voice note all about themselves, after months of no contact. And you forgive them all of this because they make you feel seen. Validated. Like a drug where you’re just looking for that next hit. What I lovingly call, the breadcrumbers.

My friends and I all talk like we’ve swallowed a self help/ psychology for dummies book. We talk about our “boundaries” and “triggers”, whilst scoffing pastries, flicking one another with buttery crusts. So, if you too want to be able to talk like a budget version of Esther Perelle! Look no further my fine feathered friend.

Get your head outta the gutter shania, we’re talking feet and inches in the height department. But where does all the heightist narrative come from in the world of love, sex and dating? Outdated gender roles, that’s where. This dynamic even exists in queer relationship with someone often taking on more quote unquote feminine or masculine roles. People had ALOT to say on this, so head to the link in bio to hear about the best stories from the feral/ flirty gang.

A friend of mine once ran after a man in Barcelona to ask for his number. He was riding a bike, bedecked in a striped tee and had, you guessed it a baguette poking out of his backpack. It’s what quirky indie rom coms are made of.