I knew he moved fast as soon as we matched. Within an hour of messaging on Tinder, he asked for my number. Within 24, we had a date planned.
I was nervous, to say the least. Before this, I had been on one date with a guy. Everything else was just casual hookups with female friends. I had my heartbroken earlier that year, though, and I was determined not to be a victim to that heartbreak. So, I put myself out there.
The first time I slept with another woman wasn't a special experience. It was an impulse but ultimately meaningless. It took me a long time to find someone to have a special experience with. When I found her, it was all perfect. She did everything right. We took things slow. We actually talked about having sex and our comfort surrounding it long before it ever happened. She created this incredibly safe environment for me. It was beautiful and I'm so grateful to have had such a positive experience. Our consent was the most important thing. She wasn't my first, but I wish she was.
After a few weeks of dating this guy, I decided it was time to tell him I am bisexual. I haven't told my family and only my close friends know. I was worried he would freak out, because he had said some borderline offensive things about the LGBTQ community in the past. He meant them as jokes, but I feared those jokes were just a tiny veil for his homophobia. He didn't freak out. He was thrilled. He said he finally found a girl who would be open to a three-way. I declined, saying that I wasn't comfortable enough in this relationship to bring in another person.