I decided to go with the flow, take each experience as it came, and decide what I wanted to do then.
A week or two after my first date, I matched with a 30-year-old Spanish artist who had made Istanbul his temporary home.
Going on a date with the smelly guy I told you about last week gave me the encouragement I needed to go full force in Tinder.Yet I was still in a dial-up state of mind when chat rooms first came to be as a replacement for pen pals, not yet realizing that I was dating the 21 XX profiles and XX matches later, I was yet to go on a date at the end of my first month on Tinder.Most of the men I had matched with were drowning in loneliness and living on the verge of depression.I was no longer wasting my time filling other people’s voids, but at the same time I was trying my best to sift through those who were simply looking for a one night stand.I was doing pretty well by the way – no longer stalking my ex every five minutes on all social media platforms.For some reason he couldn’t read my I-have-no-intention-of-kissing-you signs, and started accusing me of being “one of those girls”. Turns out there is a tribe of women who think sex is immoral and he assumed that since I didn’t want to kiss him, I should be one of them. That night I kindly told him via text (because I didn’t have the guts to look him in the eye and say it) that I wasn’t attracted to him and I wasn’t interested.Even though he was a disappointment, the date had been great fun.Yet sitting on my couch and talking intimately with strangers got boring after a while. I went to meet him post-dinner simply because I was too nervous to sit through an entire dinner with a stranger and his friends. And I kissed him back not necessarily because I found him attractive but mostly because I wanted to erase the remnants of my ex, which I thought would happen when I kissed someone else.So when a 39-year-old decent-looking man asked for my number after a brief conversation, I gave it to him. One of them turned out to be a super rich macho guy who ordered one champagne bottle after another and a truly dumb yet totally good-hearted blonde girl who was convinced that we were headed for disaster because we were going to Taksim, which apparently for her was a very dangerous place. I know, it doesn’t make much sense, but desperate times call for desperate measures.He called right away and we talked for a little while. He invited me to dinner with his friends in Karaköy. My date, on the other hand, was a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed, relatively good-looking man. I spent most of the night chatting to his macho friend who had great stories to tell, and we all went bar-hopping in Taksim, got drunk enough to be dancing with random people we met. At the end of the night, he wanted to come over to my place but I said no – I might kiss a man to get over my ex but I won’t sleep with him.I found myself feeling shocked, and realized that deep down I expected men to act like complete assholes. He texted me the next day, asked if I was okay, and we met up again a few days later.