She was supposed to be the first woman I slept with – until she said a name

‘Is Natasha* single?’

My eyes moved quickly from my coffee to the beautiful woman, Sarah*, sitting in front of me at a cafe – a woman who also happened to be my date.

I frowned, confused.

‘Natasha?’ I asked as if I didn’t know who she meant, but I did. Natasha was a pretty friend of mine – someone I had a feeling I’d seen Sarah flirt with recently.

‘Yeah, you know. Natasha. The one with long brown hair who does yoga…’

Maybe she just wants to know for someone else, I tried to convince myself. 

‘No, I don’t think so’, I responded, sighing with uncertainty.

In fact, Natasha was definitely single, definitely queer and Sarah was definitely her type. But the last thing I was going to do was tell my date that – a girl I had been crushing on for months.

The truth was clear, though. I wasn’t on a date like I thought I was. I was on someone’s fact-finding mission. And I wasn’t the target.

Three months before that date with Sarah, in 2019, I came out. I finally told my friends and family about the secret I had been harbouring for years – that I am bisexual. And that I didn’t want to date men. Not for a while, anyway.

My queer friends at the time embraced me and my straight friends proved they were allies. It was a huge moment for me, and I threw myself into LGBT+ community groups in my local area – like craft workshops and poetry events.

One of my friends, Natasha, and I became regulars at a queer poetry night – which is where I first saw Sarah, on the other side of the crowd, nervously running her hand through her hair and checking a notepad. I watched as the host called her name and she walked up to the microphone.

At that moment, I became a cliche and I fell for a poet.

Sarah read something that was obviously about her ex, and I imagined her one day writing like that about me. At one point I saw her look over at me and I felt like our eyes locked.

After the show, Sarah and I got talking. I gushed over her poetry and told her we’d be back at the same time next week. She promised she’d be there and gave me a wink.

On the way home, I told Natasha I wanted to take Sarah on a date and she screamed in excitement. Like teenagers, we jumped on a bus and gossiped all the way home.

The next week, I saw Sarah at the poetry night. We sat together, drank and watched performances. She asked me where Natasha was and I told her she was working. 

Sarah nodded and changed the conversation quickly – I assumed she was just being polite asking about Natasha and that, like me, she felt a spark between us. 

A few weeks later, Sarah and I were texting daily about nothing and everything.

I told her I hadn’t been with a woman before. ‘We need to fix that!’ she replied.

My heart stopped. I had to abandon any thoughts of us getting a cat together just yet – we hadn’t even been on a date.

Looking back, I see that she was using my crush on her to get closer to Natasha. 

She would regularly ask about Natasha’s whereabouts – I put it down to friendliness.

A few months into texting Sarah every day, I finally did it. I asked her out, writing: ‘will you go on a date with me?’

I watched the grey ticks on Whatsapp turn blue – and then nothing. I dramatically threw my phone onto the bed and started spiralling before I heard the familiar buzz from my phone.

‘Yeah, let’s grab a coffee :)’ she finally responded.

There was something about that smiley face that made me uneasy – she never used emojis, so it felt off – but I brushed it aside, guessing that she was sharing in my nervous excitement.

But sitting at the coffee shop that afternoon, that excitement quickly faded. 

Before Sarah even asked about Natasha, things felt awkward. We had met each other multiple times and it had never felt strained – but that day, it felt like she didn’t want to be there.

She then asked me what Natasha’s type is, and that’s when my heart dropped. I understood why I was there, why she had spent months texting me and flirting with me.

She wanted my friend, not me.

The date ended quickly and I went home, heartbroken. She didn’t text me that evening. A day went by and still nothing.

I didn’t tell Natasha because I didn’t want her to know – I felt embarrassed that the first woman I liked didn’t like me back. It made me feel ugly and unwanted.

I felt guilty at first for potentially depriving Natasha, but buried the feeling.

And it turned out I shouldn’t have felt bad at all.

Eventually, a week later, I found out from other friends that Natasha and Sarah had started seeing each other. Neither had contacted me, in fact, they both cut me out.

I was devastated. I hadn’t just lost a crush – a close friend had ghosted me, too.

I stopped going to those poetry nights and it took me a long time to start dating anyone again. Eventually, I met a woman around eight months later who was different to Sarah – she didn’t lie, was caring and put my feelings first.

I realised I had just been hurt by one bad apple; that I wasn’t unloveable. Far from it.

A month into my new relationship, I heard from Natasha – Sarah had cheated on her and was dating someone else. She apologised to me and we mended our friendship. But the whole situation made me more cautious about any kind of connection.

I was used by Sarah – but I made sure that I wasn’t ever going to be walked all over again, whether by a friend, or a potential love.

And that’s been the case ever since.

*Names have been changed

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