Gyn

I am going to call this one “Gyn” as he was indeed a gynaecologist. I know.

After everything that happened with my ex and after I had given up on the idea of The One, I spent a couple of weeks reflecting on where I was in my life. 

Unfortunately I had learned something that my ex did and when I found out any last bit of feeling I had for him vanished. You know that feeling when your heart just breaks? I felt it—big time. I was so disappointed, disgusted, and angry..

It took me a while to recover from both the disappointment with The One and the news from my ex. I just needed some time alone—I was so disgusted by everything, life felt like it went from vibrant colours to dull grey. It was a strange feeling; I felt like I had lost all purpose and was stuck in a deep hole. I didn't want to let a man make me feel this way, but at the same time, I needed to allow myself to feel for a bit so I could come back even stronger. 

I just needed to put the last five years of my life into perspective—how happy we were together, how much we shared, and how deeply we cared for each other. I genuinely believed my ex and I were destined to get married; we talked about it so often. We were convinced we were meant to be. Or so we thought.

I never imagined he could hurt me this deeply, which is why it came as such a shock. A part of me wants to be extra cautious moving forward, as I never want to experience heartbreak like this again. He was the first person I ever said "I love you" to, and so far, he's been the only one.

This brings us to why the following events unfolded. I knew I needed to feel something—I needed to let loose, do some stupid and crazy things, and lose myself for a while. I needed to prove to myself that I could move on from that news and that I was stronger than I had let myself believe. 

My friend had organised a night out for a group of us. We were starting with drinks and then heading to a club afterward. It took me ages to choose my outfit because I was feeling so ugly that day, and on top of that, I felt like I looked really young. It's something I've struggled with forever—caring too much about what others think. I've always had this "issue" where I never looked my age, always appearing much younger. Sure, it might be a good thing in the future, but I often feel like people don't take me seriously or see me as a woman.

I decided to go with a blue corset paired with leather trousers, a silver chunky necklace, and some small heels. Nothing too fancy, but enough to make me feel good and comfortable, at least. When I arrived, I felt quite uneasy as I didn't know anyone, but my friend introduced me to a group of girls, and we started chatting. As I returned from the restroom, two men had just arrived and quickly struck up a conversation with me.

That's when I was introduced to Gyn. I was drawn to his presence and how effortlessly he engaged with me. He was very charismatic and looked sharp in a nice double-breasted suit.

That's when he launched into his speech: "I'm a doctor," or was it "surgeon"? I couldn't quite remember. So, naturally, I fired back with, "Heart?" "Bowels?" "Brain?" But to my surprise, he was actually a gynaecologist.

I couldn't contain my laughter. Seriously? A male gynaecologist? Out of all the specialties, why that one? I had so many questions, but at the same time, I wasn't sure I wanted the answers. "I probably know your body better than you do," he joked. Lol—yeah, right. I highly doubted it, but hey, maybe it was one of his go-to pick-up lines on the weekends.

At first, I wasn't remotely attracted to him sexually. For some reason, his whole speech just didn't sit right with me.

As the night went on, I learned more about him—he was Greek, 36 years old, and renting his own flat in Angel. I thought, "Wow, this guy's got it together, you know?" He was quite the gentleman, both in his way of speaking and acting. I decided to check with my friend, who knew him. "Is Gyn a good person?" I asked her. "Yeah, definitely. He's such a gentleman, and he takes his girlfriends on holiday all the time."

It wasn't that this information would sway my opinion one way or the other, but knowing that a guy would make an effort for a woman was attractive to me. Nowadays, with hookup culture, men seem to have stopped taking women out to restaurants or on proper dates. It's always "come to my house" or "let's have a drink." I'm sorry, but even if we're only meeting for sex, I at least deserve to be fed first. Or is that too much to ask? At the end of the day, I'm giving you the gift of my body, and most of the time, all of this is for sex without even an orgasm. So trust me—I deserve a proper date beforehand.

Although it was probably too soon to see if he would take me on a date, the four gin and lemonades in me were calling the shots as I found myself getting quite cosy with him in the club. I kept seeking him out, catching his eye, and we even danced together for a bit. Eventually, I needed a smoke break, so he gallantly accompanied me outside, holding my hand—a true gentleman move.

As I stood there smoking, he even draped his jacket over me to keep me warm. We locked eyes so closely, and I couldn't help but wonder, "Why isn't this guy making a move?" So, I mustered up the courage and asked him straight out, "Are you going to kiss me?" I remember he responded with a casual "I think so," before leaning in to kiss me.

We kissed for what felt like ages, but unfortunately, I couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't the best kisser at all. 

I told my friend straight away, and she said, “Don’t worry, you can teach that.” Can you, though?

After my cigarette, we headed back into the club. "Voyage, Voyage," the remix by Francis Mercier, was playing—I remember it like it was yesterday. I told my friend about the kiss and how charming I found him. At that point, I knew that if he asked me, I’d go back to his place without a second thought. And he did indeed ask me if I wanted to leave with him. 

We walked out of the club and headed to his car, which was parked a few minutes away. As usual, he held my hand, being his charming and caring self. A man shouted at us in the street, saying we looked good together, which made me smile. We got into his car shortly after and started making out. His hands were all over me, and mine were all over him. I was so attracted to him, all I wanted was to rip off his clothes.

On the way to his place, we had a quick chat about our previous relationships. I wanted to understand why he was single. He was a very good-looking man, charming, with a good job, and also funny. It didn’t make sense. He told me he broke up with his ex because she had to move back to South America. Fair enough, but they didn’t stay together that long compared to my last relationship. 

We arrived at his flat, a one-bedroom place near central London. Great location, but it was such a typical bachelor pad—nothing really matched, and it was pretty bland and empty. At least it wasn’t messy or dirty, which I appreciated. 

What we both wanted happened, and I have to say, he didn't disappoint. I had joked to myself when I first met him, thinking, "Wow, a gynaecologist, I gotta try a bit of that." Turns out, he really did know what he was doing. Although I wish he had spent more time focusing on my pleasure, I still had a great time. We quickly fell asleep since he had to work the next morning.

When his alarm rang at 8 am, I started to wake up, but he immediately reassured me that I could stay over and leave whenever I wanted. Such a nice move from him. I don’t usually stay over as I like to sleep in my own bed, but this just felt right. I slept a bit more and then decided to meet my friend, who lived just five minutes away, to tell her everything. I made his bed and made sure the place was okay before I left. 

I joined my friend for brunch and told her everything. He hadn’t texted me yet, and I didn’t know how to react. I hadn’t done something so impulsive in a while—going home with someone I hadn’t even been on a date with yet was so 2016 Juliet behaviour when I was 19, not 26!

As we were talking about him, he texted me, asking if I had a good rest and letting me know I could chill at his place until he got back in the afternoon. He also mentioned he had a great time last night, and I agreed.

Later that evening, he called me, asking about my day and how brunch with my friend went. He said he’d love to take me out for dinner next time. I was genuinely shocked because he was such a nice man and had everything I always admired in a man.

We decided to meet a couple of days later and ended up ordering sushi and sharing some wine at his flat. I drove there since I wanted to ensure I went home afterward—not because I didn’t enjoy his company, but because I genuinely preferred sleeping in my own bed. We had a good laugh and great sex, but when he asked me to stay, I declined. I was extremely tired, and unless I’m super comfortable with someone, I can never sleep properly in someone else’s bed.

For some reason, I started to get a bit of an ick. I really didn’t like the way he kissed me, and for me, that’s crucial. I love kissing, and it’s one of the main ways I connect with someone. 

I decided to talk about it with some of my friends and got mixed reviews. Some understood the ick and how they couldn't work past it; for others, it was just a minor detail, and as long as he was nice to me, I shouldn’t care that much. I agreed with both sides. I felt stupid for getting the ick just because of the way he kissed me, but it was so personal and important to me that I couldn’t just ignore it. Despite my reservations, I decided I still wanted to see him and try to move past it. We had such great times together, and I really enjoyed getting to know him and being around him. Maybe, with time, I’d be able to overlook this one thing. 

He invited me for dinner at this cute Italian restaurant near where he lived. I thought this was a very calculated move, but I went with it. I had parked my car near his house, thinking he was waiting for me there, but he was already at the restaurant. He called me while I was walking and apologised for not being more of a gentleman, explaining that he thought I had parked near the restaurant, not all the way by his house. Again, I thought “wow what a guy”. 

Gyn ordered some wine for us and was disappointed that I was driving, so we couldn’t order a full bottle. I think he realised then that I wasn’t going to stay over again. I ordered some cacio e pepe, my favourite Italian pasta dish. It was a 6/10, but Gyn and I had a great time as usual, laughing and getting to know each other better. We walked back to his place for a last drink, and I texted my friend to say we had just left the restaurant and that it was a great time. He kept complimenting my appearance, which was really nice to hear. We joked about our dating situations and laughed about how I would never find him on "Raya '' because he was too old for my age restrictions. Remember, he told me he was 36 years old. We spent the evening together and I left his place to go back to mine, as usual as a true gentleman he would walk me back to his car, open the door and kiss me goodbye. I could not fault him whatsoever. 

It's only a few days later that I find myself thinking about the situation, and when he texts me, I don't feel the same attraction I used to. I'm unsure if this is because of the ick or just a general feeling that's hard to describe. It frustrates me because he's extremely polite, a true gentleman, and hasn't done anything wrong (yet...).

The week passed with us chatting occasionally, mostly him sending cute videos of kittens and cats. I remember him mentioning he had a lot of love to give and wanted a pet but couldn't due to his busy work schedule. One day, as I was browsing on Raya, a guy caught my eye. I clicked on his profile and saw "one member in common" – it was Gyn. Curious about his profile, I clicked on it and immediately realised he had lied about his age. I was shocked; it wasn't a huge difference from what he told me, but the fact that he lied so blatantly left me feeling betrayed and furious. He had been so perfect and kind all this time, so how could he deceive me about something so insignificant? I texted him immediately, consumed with anger. 

“You lied to me about your age Gyn” he replied “Not sure why though, doesn’t make any difference! Tried to tell you but I guess it wasn’t the right time. So I’m sorry, also, I still want to see you”. What do you mean it doesn't make a difference? “It does make a difference because you lied to me” I replied. “It’s not about the age, I don’t care about that. It’s that you lied to my face and we’ve seen each other three times. Whatever - I’m very disappointed” He then proceeded to ask if we could chat in which I replied that I was not interested and I thought it was better if we leave it at that. He respected my decision and we did not talk again. 

I was absolutely furious and felt deeply betrayed by the situation. My friend knew his real age but hadn't realised he hadn't been truthful with me about it. It wasn't about the age itself, because that's just a number and I don't really care as long as we have great communication, laughter, good times, and above all, trust. But one thing I can't overlook is dishonesty, and this, combined with the ick I already had, was the final straw for me. 

A couple of weeks later, I was at a bar in Mayfair when my friend warned me that he would be there. At first, I didn't think much of it as I had cooled down since our last encounter. While sipping on my glass of bubbles, I noticed him entering the bar and felt a wave of unease. I didn't know how to act around him and became quite shy, but he came over and said hello.

He asked if we could chat, so we moved away from the group to have a conversation. He apologised again for lying about his age and questioned why it mattered so much since it was only a couple of years older. I reiterated to him that it wasn't about the age itself but the fact that he had lied to my face after we had discussed it several times. It bothered me because it made me feel like he lied just to get me into bed. I acknowledged that I didn't believe that was his intention, or perhaps I was being too naive, but the fact that he felt the need to lie about something as trivial as a few years difference didn't sit right with me. 

He told me he thought I looked particularly good that evening and expressed a wish to still meet up. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I responded with a non-committal "maybe." Shortly after, I left to meet someone else (who will be my chapter 3… stay tuned). The next day, he texted me saying it was nice to see me and that he'd like to hang out again sometime.

Uncertain of how to respond, especially since my feelings had shifted and I had developed a crush on someone else during our time apart, I sought advice from a close friend. She suggested being straightforward with him to avoid any lingering awkwardness. So, I texted him that I didn't feel a romantic connection and thought it best for us to remain friends. To my relief, he took it well, appreciating my honesty and understanding my reasons. 

This was the last time we texted, although I knew I would inevitably see him again given our mutual friends. A couple of weeks ago (from the time I'm writing this, so quite recently), we ended up hanging out with the same group of friends. Surprisingly, it was nice to see him without the previous awkwardness. We chatted and laughed together, and I realised I genuinely appreciate him as a friend—he's a genuinely nice person. 

Reflecting on everything, I have a lot of respect for him. He always had good manners and looked after me well. We can now laugh about our past interactions, and I'm grateful for the positive aspects of our time together. I think we were both in different stages of our lives; he seemed more inclined towards something long-term while I was still figuring out what I wanted. Gyn ended up being one of those rare people I dated who turned out to be a positive experience. I learned a lot from him—not just about how I deserve to be treated by a man, but also about myself in general. Every experience teaches us something valuable, and I'm grateful for the lessons learned from our time together.

Juliet.