[Image description: Text ‘She Dares To Say Season 4 round-up No. 03’ on a lilac background]

‘She Dares To Say’ is now wrapping up its fourth season, which began in September 2025. The rotating schedule has included the following content strands:

‘It Stuck With Me’

Autobiographical vignettes capturing the moments from my life that remain etched in my memory.

‘Considering My Crushes’

A returning favourite! Essays describing celebrity/public eye/fictional crushes along with imagery. These posts are mainly guest essays by writers in my community.

Relationship Status: Unfiltered

A bold interview series speaking to people across the spectrum of romantic and sexual experience, from high school sweethearts and solo polyamorists, to swingers, co-parents, serial monogamists and asexual folk. Each conversation follows the same of questions, revealing what people really think about love, commitment, dating and desire; from the inside of these relationships themselves.

Subscribers will need to upgrade to a paid subscription to gain access to the content beyond any paywalls and unrestricted access to the project’s full archive.

Get full access

This post will round up all of this season’s ‘Relationship Status: Unfiltered’ interviews:

Previous posts:

Ms. Almaz is 37, loves living alone and has been oh-so-single since her last relationship ended six months ago. She is only occasionally going on dates:

I share some more content from the interview with Ms. ALmaz as verbatim audio clips and more transcript text where I answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’. I chat about how my writing and online presence are deeply personal, I experience continued social media attention from former lovers or casual connections as oddly one-sided and even slightly voyeuristic. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

‘Ms. RST’ is 40 and is divorced. She’s been in her current relationship with a younger man, for four and a half years:

I share some more content from the interview with ‘Ms. RST’ as verbatim transcript text where she answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’, ‘Ms. RST’ says she doesn’t see herself as radical, as she lives what many would consider a ‘normal’ life since she has a stable job and owns property, which are conventional markers of adulthood. But she chooses to be open about her sexuality and non-traditional experiences precisely because she wants to challenge the idea that society is split into ‘normal’ people and ‘deviant’ ones. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

‘Ms. LMN’ is 36 and has been married to her husband for 12 years and together for 18 years; they met in sixth form, were friends for two years before becoming a couple, and became inseparable:

I share some more content from the interview with ‘Ms. LMN’ as verbatim audio clips and more transcript text where she answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’. ‘Ms. LMN’ and I talk about whether she has any regrets about settling down so young. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

‘Ms. ABC’ is 36 and came out of a relationship a couple of months ago. She’s been using the dating app Hinge to get some dates, but is bored of the whole process:

I share some more content from the interview with ‘Ms. ABC’ as verbatim audio clips and more transcript text where he answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’. ‘Ms. ABC’ has lived and dated in both Manchester and London, and notes differences in how people date in the North versus the South. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

‘Mr. EFG’ is a 45-year-old married man who’s been with his husband for 17 years in total and married for seven:

I share some more content from the interview with ‘Mr. EFG’ as verbatim audio clips and more transcript text where he answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’. ‘Mr. EFG’ and I talk about his fetish for lads in sportswear, which was influenced by the film Flash Gordon. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

‘Mr. XYZ’ revealed how the impact of media portrayals, particularly romcoms and lads mags influenced how he saw the cultural expectations of being in a relationship as an adolescent. We also chatted about the role of labels and the balance between personal freedom and relationship stability:

I share some more content from the interview with ‘Mr. XYZ’ as verbatim audio clips and more transcript text where he answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’. ‘Mr. XYZ’ and I talk about the influence of romcom tropes on how he views relationships. We also touch on how the current ubiquity of smartphones means that people look at their screens while on the street, rather than looking around them, or at other people. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

[Image description: Text ‘POSTSCRIPT’]

The ‘POSTSCRIPT’ segment for paid subscribers will drop on Wednesday 17 June and will feature comments and reflections from the interviewee and how my readers have responded to the series.

To receive this extra mailout you’ll need to upgrade to a paid subscription, which is either billed monthly at £5.99 or annually at £60.

Upgrade to paid

[Image description: Text ‘PRODUCED BY’]

I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.
Visit my Work With Almaz page 😃

Follow me on Instagram | Visit my website

Please do ‘like’ this post via the heart icon (❤️) that appears at the very top and bottom of this post, as it’s the best way to help others find my work.

If this project is something that you value, and want it to continue, readers are encouraged to upgrade to paid. With a paid subscription you’ll gain access to the content beyond the paywall and unrestricted access to the full archive of this newsletter.

Paid subscriptions are either billed monthly at £5.99 or annually at £60.

Upgrade to paid

If you would prefer to make a one-off donation, feel free to send a tip via PayPal.

Tip me

You can also show your enjoyment without spending £££, by liking, commenting, restacking via Notes, or just generally sharing 😃

Share

[Image description: Text ‘She Dares To Say Season 4 round-up No. 02’ on a lilac background]

‘She Dares To Say’ is now wrapping up its fourth season, which began in September 2025. The rotating schedule has included the following content strands:

‘It Stuck With Me’

Autobiographical vignettes capturing the moments from my life that remain etched in my memory.

‘Considering My Crushes’

A returning favourite! Essays describing celebrity/public eye/fictional crushes along with imagery. These posts are mainly guest essays by writers in my community.

Relationship Status: Unfiltered

A bold interview series speaking to people across the spectrum of romantic and sexual experience, from high school sweethearts and solo polyamorists, to swingers, co-parents, serial monogamists and asexual folk. Each conversation follows the same of questions, revealing what people really think about love, commitment, dating and desire; from the inside of these relationships themselves.

Subscribers will need to upgrade to a paid subscription to gain access to the content beyond any paywalls and unrestricted access to the project’s full archive.

Get full access

This post will round up all of this season’s ‘Considering My Crushes’ essays

Previous posts:

Gigi Engle, certified sex & relationships psychotherapist, sex educator and award-winning author speaks to Almaz

Dani Conlon, community manager in the reproductive health and sexy space, writes about her crushes from the late 1990s and early 2000s, which were animated TV characters as well as and Hollywood film stars:

Ally Iseman, CRC, a modern relationship expert and founder of global platform Passport 2 Pleasure describes her crush on animated Disney character Aladdin as a kid, which then played out in the early 2000 when she hooked-up with a EuroDisney actor who played Aladdin:

Founder of multi-award-winning anti-racist brand consultancy, Brand by Me, Collette Philip writes about her crush 80s British television star Matthew Kelly, pop superstar Michael Jackson and the cultural ubiquity of whiteness:

Podcaster and journalist Bethany Burgoyne writes about her early 00s crushes on cute actor Jeremy Sumpter in his role as Peter Pan and a whole host of fine young women from TV and film:

Writer and civil liberties expert Gracie Mae Bradley described her late nineties and early noughties rock star crushes Tom DeLonge from rock band Blink-182 and Less Than Jake band member Chris DeMakes:

Sex Educator Ruth Ramsay wrote about her 80s and 90s crushes that were sparked by seeing leather and bondage in pop and rock music video for bands like Duran Duran, Mötley Crüe and Eurythmics:

Revisiting all ‘Considering My Crushes’ essays from Season 3, featuring writers Oli Lipski (AKA ‘The Queer Sensualist’), Justin Myers (AKA ‘The Guyliner’), Peter Apps and Karla Marie Sweet:

[Image description: Text ‘POSTSCRIPT’]

The ‘POSTSCRIPT’ segment for paid subscribers will drop on Wednesday 3 June and will feature comments and reflections from the guest writers.

To receive this extra mailout you’ll need to upgrade to a paid subscription, which is either billed monthly at £5.99 or annually at £60.

Upgrade to paid

[Image description: Text ‘PRODUCED BY’]

I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.
Visit my Work With Almaz page 😃

Follow me on Instagram | Visit my website

Please do ‘like’ this post via the heart icon (❤️) that appears at the very top and bottom of this post, as it’s the best way to help others find my work.

If this project is something that you value, and want it to continue, readers are encouraged to upgrade to paid. With a paid subscription you’ll gain access to the content beyond the paywall and unrestricted access to the full archive of this newsletter.

Paid subscriptions are either billed monthly at £5.99 or annually at £60.

Upgrade to paid

If you would prefer to make a one-off donation, feel free to send a tip via PayPal.

Tip me

You can also show your enjoyment without spending £££, by liking, commenting, restacking via Notes, or just generally sharing 😃

Share

[Image description: Text ‘She Dares To Say Season 4 round-up No. 01’ on a lilac background]

‘She Dares To Say’ is now wrapping up its fourth season, which began in September 2025. The rotating schedule has included the following content strands:

‘It Stuck With Me’

Autobiographical vignettes capturing the moments from my life that remain etched in my memory.

‘Considering My Crushes’

A returning favourite! Essays describing celebrity/public eye/fictional crushes along with imagery. These posts are mainly guest essays by writers in my community.

Relationship Status: Unfiltered

A bold interview series speaking to people across the spectrum of romantic and sexual experience, from high school sweethearts and solo polyamorists, to swingers, co-parents, serial monogamists and asexual folk. Each conversation follows the same of questions, revealing what people really think about love, commitment, dating and desire; from the inside of these relationships themselves.

Subscribers will need to upgrade to a paid subscription to gain access to the content beyond any paywalls and unrestricted access to the project’s full archive.

Get full access

This post will round up all of this season’s ‘It Stuck With Me’ vignettes.

Previous posts:

I’m 21 in this one, and I’ve suddenly found myself to be an appealing object of desire for several men while away in Sicily on a press trip (!).

In this vignette, I’m 19 and am having a delicious experience being the delectable filling in a ‘rasta sandwich’, while dancing with two men in a bar in Accra. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid:

Guest post by a fellow Substacker who wishes to remain anonymous. This one is about a visit to a strip club:

It’s the summer of 2007, and I’ve just finished school forever. I’m partying with some guy friends in the coastal town of Bournemouth, UK. We end up in a strip club… Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.

I revisit a relationship I first wrote about in a piece for British Vogue in 2020. At 24, I met a 50-year-old divorced man at a literary event and a year later began a sporadic sexual relationship with him. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.

I wrote about an age-inappropriate flirtation-of-sorts I had when I had an after-school job as a teen. His attention is addictive, especially when compared to how the boys my own age ignored me:

I’m at a sleepover party at my friend’s 10th birthday. Her parents run a pub, so they live in the flat above. As usual, all of us girls are up to mischief. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid:

I’m nine or 10 years old and together, my primary school pals and I find a playing card in the dirt. It’s pornographic and we are stunned. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid:

It’s the summer of 1997 and I’m having the best time dancing to Hanson’s ‘MmmBop’, the Grease MegaMix and T-Spoon’s ‘Sex on the Beach’ (inappropriate!):

[Image description: Text ‘POSTSCRIPT’]

The ‘POSTSCRIPT’ segment for paid subscribers will drop on Wednesday 20 May and will feature descriptive reflections of each of the vignettes and how my readers have responded to the series.

To receive this extra mailout you’ll need to upgrade to a paid subscription, which is either billed monthly at £5.99 or annually at £60.

Upgrade to paid

[Image description: Text ‘PRODUCED BY’]

I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.
Visit my Work With Almaz page 😃.

Follow me on Instagram | Visit my website

Please do ‘like’ this post via the heart icon (❤️) that appears at the very top and bottom of this post, as it’s the best way to help others find my work.

If this project is something that you value, and want it to continue, readers are encouraged to upgrade to paid. With a paid subscription you’ll gain access to the content beyond the paywall and unrestricted access to the full archive of this newsletter.

Paid subscriptions are either billed monthly at £5.99 or annually at £60.

Upgrade to paid

If you would prefer to make a one-off donation, feel free to send a tip via PayPal.

Tip me

You can also show your enjoyment without spending £££, by liking, commenting, restacking via Notes, or just generally sharing 😃

Share

[Image description: Text ‘It Stuck With Me No. 08’ on a lilac background]

Almaz note:
This is the final piece in the current ‘It Stuck With Me’ series. I’m 21 in this one, and I’ve suddenly found myself appealing to several men while away in Sicily on a press trip (!).

I’m publishing the full piece – without a paywall – for this mailout, so that you guys can follow my (s)escapades to the end.

Please do let me know what you think of this piece in the comments section at the bottom of this post. And feel free to tip me if you enjoyed it. Creating pieces like this takes huge amounts of thinking, writing, editing (and emotional processing 😬) time.

Tip me!

Press Trip

‘We can order room service Champagne, if you’d like, gorgeous.’ He begins fiddling with the top button of his shirt, which is a fabulous shade of fuchsia. He takes a step towards me.

‘I like your shirt,’ I say.

To my surprise, my voice sounds cool and confident. The voice of someone who knows what’s supposed to come next. I cock my head and raise my eyebrow, ‘I can help you out of that.’

Some seconds pass, where I watch his eyes rove across my body. Some more seconds pass. He hasn’t said anything. The silence between us stretches. I begin to regret my somewhat brazen offer and I think of leaving.

But then, he takes half a step towards me. I stay glued to my spot. He takes another step toward me, now unbuttoning his shirt in earnest. This silence between us stretches further still.

I take a breath, close my eyes and reach for his neck. I trail the tips of my fingers downwards across his clavicle and feel him exhale. He takes my other hand and wraps it around his waist.

My fingers untuck his shirt, finding the waistband of his boxer shorts. They’ve been digging into him just slightly, leaving a faint red indent. He holds me close and I feel the muscles of his torso contract and relax in time with his breath.

He holds my head in both of his hands and strokes his lips across mine. I kiss him back, my tongue snaking its way into his mouth. My fingers squeeze his buttocks and I feel him rise against my stomach.

‘Come join me in the bathtub,’ he whispers into my ear, sending the hairs on my arms upwards.

‘Yes please.’

He peels himself out of our clinch, slides out of his trousers and boxer shorts, then backs into the bathroom. I watch his erection, absurd yet commanding, bounce at me, so I follow him in.

In the bathroom, steam clouds the mirror, softening the edges of everything. We leave our clothes in a pile on the floor. I clock that all of his have designer labels, and I hope that he doesn’t notice that mine are just cheap Highstreet brands.

We slowly lower ourselves into the huge bathtub. At first, we’re wincing and bracing against the hot, hot water. But soon, we relax into it, admiring each other, my toes stroking his golden chest hair.

The tray with two glasses and a bottle of Moët arrives, but it sits forgotten on the tiled bathroom floor. I realise that, actually, I would like a drink. He sees me glancing over and steps out of the bath. The beads of water drip down his torso making delicate patterns on his body hair. He fills the two glasses and we sip the bubbles in expectant silence.

Some minutes pass, where I watch his eyes rove across my naked, wet body. He tops up our glasses. Some more minutes pass. I turn the hot tap back on, filling the bathtub with more scalding water. Steam swirls around us.

He beckons me over to his end of the bathtub. I slide towards him, our limbs entangling. He cups my chin with one hand, while raising his glass to his mouth with the other.

‘Let’s try something.’

‘’kay.’

He takes a large gulp of his drink and places his mouth on mine. He prises my lips open, letting the Champagne trickle from his full mouth into my empty one. I swallow it down, coughing a little.

‘Mmm, tasty.’

He chuckles and then kisses me long and slow, his tongue exploring my mouth. We pause for air. He reaches for the shower head. ‘Shall we use this on you?’ he asks, pulling it out of its bracket. He turns it on and points it straight between my legs. I gasp as my vulva responds to the pressurised jets of water. He grins. I grin back. By the time we’ve finished, our water is tepid.

Finally, I tip-toe back to my own hotel room next door. Giddy from both the Champagne and the excitement of what has just gone on, I leap into bed and will myself to fall asleep. My dreams are full of attractive strangers gently kissing the length of my body.

My alarm goes off, so I dress and head down to breakfast. I’m feeling exceptionally pleased with myself.

It was the first week of October in 2010. I was 21 and had just started my final year at university. But I wasn’t in a beige lecture hall that smelled like Redbull and Lynx Africa with the rest of my classmates in the English port city of Southampton. Instead, I was on the island of Sicily, Italy, gallivanting with a load of fully-fledged journalists – ones who had stacks of real business cards – who’d been sent there on a press trip to review a new five-star golf and spa resort.

I was studying English, so my degree was contact-hours-light, which meant I’d been able to pursue writing commissions outside of my studies. Before long, I somehow found myself one of the staff (of course, unpaid, as was the way at that time) at a now long-defunct lifestyle magazine, where the editor would often assign London-based high-profile fashion events and the occasional luxury hotel review to me (!).

I could not believe my luck. For this latest assignment, all I had to do was make my way to Heathrow and join the group of journalists and PR managers, and file a 1,000-word hotel review after the trip.

When we arrived at the resort, we found ourselves in the midst of many other groups of travel journalists from all over Europe. It was a brand new five-star golf and spa resort. It wasn’t yet open to the public and we were its first guests. Plenty of us have seen the television drama The White Lotus. Well, this resort was the 2010 version of that. It was absurdly luxurious; all weighty cutlery buffed to a mirrored shine, luscious green lawns manicured to perfection and staff trained to smile on cue.

The wine flowed so freely on our first evening there that it felt reckless. Our glasses were refilled automatically, long before they were empty, so it became difficult to gauge how much we’d had. By morning, at breakfast, there were whispers. Two of our party, it was said, had been seen leaving the same hotel room. Hearing such salacious gossip triggered something lying in wait inside me.

Up until then, I hadn’t done much sleeping around. I’d been sexual with a couple of handfuls (10) of people. And the majority of those experiences were with people I’d met when I was abroad in Brazil and Germany the previous year. My number was lower than that of many of my peers at university.

I was completely new to the ‘art of seduction’, and I hadn’t ever been in such close proximity to hedonistic professionals. And although I’d been sent to report on fashion events in London by the online magazine, I’d never been self-assured enough to try anything with anyone there. It wasn’t that I had body image issues; it just had never occurred to me that unapologetically pursuing sex was a valid choice for ordinary young women like me. I’d sensibly carried condoms in my purse the way some people carried safety pins, y’know, just in case, but mostly out of habit. I mean, I’d rarely spontaneously used them.

But on the trip, buoyed by the repeated compliments on my good looks, stylish clothes and enthusiastic attitude, I began to consider myself differently. Suddenly, my twenty-one-year-old reflection in the hotel mirror seemed sharper, more defined. I saw someone who might be an interesting and enticing sexual prospect for these older, professional men. Could I do sex goddess?! Like, make these kinds of men want to share pleasure with me?

After dinner that evening, as I walked the corridor towards my room, a door opened. The handsome blonde from the Finnish press contingent stepped out.

‘Hello, beautiful next-door neighbour,’ he said.

Our rooms were adjacent and we’d already spent some time checking each other out through the translucent walls of our balconies. He invited me in. His bath was already running, the steam making the room feel humid and intimate. My body responded before my brain could catch up.

And then, somehow, it was happening. His skin was hot and damp, his breath quick and shallow. It was the most exciting sexual experience I’d ever encountered.

Until the following day, that is, when I noticed a man, who looked a lot like a young version of fashion designer Marc Jacobs, checking me out. He’d been striding around the hotel grounds more purposefully than most of the press guests.

After dinner, he sought me out, telling me that he was the hotel owner’s son, and flirtatiously asked if I wanted to take a stroll with him. I replied that I very much would like to accompany him.

He took me to an out-of-bounds bar, where he picked up the phone on the wall and called for a bartender. We holed up in a booth and consumed a seemingly never-ending supply of gin and tonics.

We’d been gradually inching closer and closer as we chatted. Mid-sentence, I felt his fingertips brush against my bare leg. He deliberately let them linger a few inches above my knee, and then watched intently as my body quivered a little in response to his touch.

I took his hand and slid it further up my thigh. We made out so enthusiastically that the bartender made himself scarce. When it got really late, he walked me to my room and invited himself in. His presence, just metres away from my bed, was so, so thrilling.

We ripped each other’s clothes off. I breathily congratulated him on the depth of his tan (‘This bit here… where your tan meets the white of your bum… is sexy as fuck’) and he traced the outlines of my various birthmarks with his index finger (‘This one… on your knee… looks like Scotland. Oh, and this one… on your boob… could be Crete’). Obviously, this led to sex. We were unrestrained, and, y’know, noisy.

At breakfast the next day, he pretended to read the paper, while not-so-obviously watching me chat with my press group. One of our journos clocked him. ‘Well, Almaz has an admirer.’ I smiled back coyly.

On the final night, that same journo from our British group propositioned me. I said yes without thinking. At this point, saying yes felt so easy.

At the end of the trip, I returned to my student house in Southampton, still sun-warmed, and holding onto the memories of new foods, new experiences and three new sexual conquests to add to my tally (!!!). The house was cold (it was still too early on in the season to spend money on putting the heating on), and damp in the way most student housing was. I stood in the kitchen, the tatty lino curling up at the edges, and told my housemates everything. They listened with wide eyes, their faces a mix of disbelief and envy. None of us had done anything quite so outrageous.

The body I had, with its sturdy thighs, full hips and brown skin, hadn’t been framed by the mainstream as something young men could openly want. So I learned not to expect to be looked at with desire, although I had always wondered what it was like to be lusted after by many… to have people watch me from across a room and have their eyes settle on my face, or body, and then linger there for just a beat longer than was strictly necessary.

The only time that seemed to shift was on a dancefloor. There, in motion, my body could be read differently, noticed, responded to, and briefly desired. But outside of that context, in everyday life, I often felt as though I receded again, becoming less visible, or at least less legible in that particular way.

So, I assumed that plenty of lustful attention was reserved for other young women. Young women with smaller frames, straighter hair, lighter skin. Young women who already knew what it was like to be wanted.

In the weeks following the trip, I carried a strange energy around with me, as though something in my body had been switched on and hadn’t yet worked out how to switch itself off again. I moved through university with an altered awareness, half-participant, half-observer, watching myself as though through the speculative, appraising gaze of others. Something had shifted.

Or, more accurately, I had adjusted the lens. I had learned how to see myself being seen. I found I was no longer only inside my experience, but also looking at it. Desire seemed less like a random impulse and more like something that emerged from context, shaped by what it encountered. What had felt expansive in Sicily now looked, back in the UK, a little… impractical. Much, much harder to sustain when you’re scurrying between lecture halls and subsisting primarily on beans on toast.

Still, I was energised by what I’d discovered. Not because I had suddenly become some radically different person, but because I had, in some sense, encountered a version of myself I hadn’t fully recognised before. I’d discovered a capacity for letting desire exist without immediately trying to explain or contain it. And for the first time, that didn’t feel like something to rein in. It felt like something to follow. And I felt excited rather than cautious about where that might lead me.

In the Summer of 2011, at 22, I graduated from university and moved to London.

– [ENDS] –

Please do let me know what you think of this piece in the comment section at the bottom of this post. And feel free to tip me if you enjoyed it! Creating pieces like this takes huge amounts of thinking, writing, editing (and emotional processing 😬) time.

Tip me

[Image description: Text ‘POSTSCRIPT’]

The ‘POSTSCRIPT’ segment for paid subscribers will drop on Wednesday 6 May and will feature the original piece that I wrote after returning from the trip. Although the outlet (it was called ‘AGENT2 Magazine’) no longer exists, I had the foresight to copy and paste the published piece from the internet onto MS Word, so I still have it in my archives. Of course, it was just a functional hotel review feature that didn’t reveal anything about the exploits we’d all got up to.

Back in 2010, at the time of the trip, I was part of the student newspaper editorial team, which meant I had access to a range of resources and equipment. I remember realising I could borrow a professional SLR camera for the trip (even though it had nothing to do with what I was doing at university), so I took plenty of photos along the way. I’m including some of these pics for you in the ‘POSTSCRIPT’ segment 😃.

To receive this extra mailout you’ll need to upgrade to a paid subscription, which is currently billed monthly at £3.79 monthly, or annually at £34.99.

Upgrade to paid

[Image description: Text ‘PRODUCED BY’]

I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.
Visit my Work With Almaz page 😃.

Follow me on Instagram | Visit my website

Please do ‘like’ this post via the heart icon (❤️) that appears at the very top and bottom of this post, as it’s the best way to help others find my work.

If this project is something that you value, and want it to continue, readers are encouraged to upgrade to paid. With a paid subscription you’ll gain access to the content beyond the paywall and unrestricted access to the full archive of this newsletter.

Paid subscriptions are either billed monthly at £3.79 (less than a coffee ☕️) or annually at £34.99.

Upgrade to paid

If you would prefer to make a one-off donation, feel free to send a tip via PayPal.

Tip me

You can also show your enjoyment without spending £££, by liking, commenting, restacking via Notes, or just generally sharing 😃

Share

[Image description: Text ‘Relationship Status Unfiltered No. 06’ on a lilac background]

This month, we’re doing away with anonymity and I’ve switched roles for the final interview in the series, as I’m sure that many of you are curious about my current situation and views. I sat down again with Edem Barbara Ntumy, a long-time friend and collaborator, to chat about where I’m at.

Almaz Note: Edem interviewed me in a similar way a few years ago for a piece in an earlier season of ‘She Dares To Say’. You can read and listen to that interview from February 2023 here:

And you can come join the two of us in conversation at the inaugural Platform Ideas event in London on 30 May 2026, where we will be chatting on a panel called ‘Casual touch: Why we miss it, why we need it and how we can get more of it’

Talk info:
Sex and relationships writer Almaz Ohene is joined by activist and advocate Edem Barbara Ntumy for an honest discussion that delves into why casual touch and spontaneous interactions are so important in society, how it brings us sense of warmth and fulfilment when we have it in our everyday interactions and why we might be a little shy leaning in to it, despite the benefits.

Book tickets

Ms. Almaz

Q: Describe your current relationship status (be specific e.g. married for [x] years / co-habiting with partner(s) for [x] years / single and dating for [x] months).

Ms. Almaz: My current relationship status is single. I’m not very happy about it. I am trying to date, but I haven’t really been on many dates recently. In the past four to five months, I’ve only been on one, which is unusual for me, because I typically date quite actively. Like, in 2024, I went 56 dates, and 19 of those were first dates. When I think about it, I have been on an astonishing number of dates in my life.

I think what’s changed is that I’m now very sure of what I’m looking for. If someone doesn’t seem clear about what they want, or if I notice that I’m driving the chat and doing all of the planning, I don’t really consider them, because I need things to feel reciprocal. So, almost by accident, I’ve shrunk my dating pool.

What I want is a serious relationship that lasts. I want to build something long-term, and ultimately, I want to raise a family with the person I’m with.

So, yes, my status is single.

Q: What’s the story behind your current situation (e.g. please describe how you got together with your partner(s) / decided to open things up / start dating again after a big break-up)?

Ms. Almaz: I’m currently single because a long-distance, open relationship ended back in October 2025. We had mutually agreed to end it, and, somewhat ridiculously, we’d set a deadline for when the relationship would finish. We said it would last a year, because his situation wasn’t conducive to what I ultimately want.

He had a long-standing partner and two little kids in his home country in Europe and navigating his situation alongside mine was a real, real struggle. He was closed to sharing any real details of his situation with me, but I was open with him about any other dalliances I was having when he wasn’t around. So I felt like he was compartmentalising our relationship, while I was sharing my full self with him, which was an unpleasant feeling to be honest.

We spent about nine weeks ‘de-escalating’ the relationship, and it was really horrible and emotionally fraught. I would not recommend that approach. If I ever found myself in that situation again, where it’s clear something doesn’t have legs, I would just end it there and then, rather than letting it drag.

Looking back, there was a moment in the August when it could have ended more cleanly. He came over for a visit, and we’d even bought each other goodbye presents. We spent the bank holiday weekend together, opening them while we were sitting up in bed with our morning cups of tea. That should have been the final goodbye. Instead, we stretched it out for another seven weeks and he came over another couple of times. So, that’s a lesson learned.

The Lily Allen ‘West End Girl’ album came out just after he and I had broken up, when I was feeling very miserable and raw. So I spent the end of 2025 with a very, very, very, like, extremely, low-opinion of men doing open relationships. Like, I was finding myself having to work extremely hard not to write men off completely. But I’m a pan-sexual personal who is, maybe unfortunately, very, very physically attracted to cis men and can’t stay away from them for long, ha ha.

Since then, I’ve been dating more intentionally, and the upshot of that has meant that I’ve barely met up with anyone for a date. I’m not using apps. Although I did get accepted onto the exclusive Raya app. I paid for that for a month, but I didn’t find it useful as it was mainly showing me people in London and Amsterdam, with hardly any prospects coming up for Manchester. I’m not really an app person, anyway. I’m much more interested in people’s ability to socialise and connect in real life, to actually feel a sense of chemistry in the room.

I’ve always been someone who is open in that way. I let people approach me, and I also approach others. I’ve been like that since I started dating at 18. But I also recognise that dating isn’t just about what I bring to the table. Sometimes it’s not about you at all.

So I try to hold onto that perspective. And also, to remind myself that I am a great catch!

Q: Have cultural, familial, or societal expectations shaped your relationship choices in any way? How?

Ms. Almaz: This is an interesting one, because I think I’ve always gone against the grain. Particularly when it comes to how women are expected to move through relationships, I’ve resisted that. The idea that women shouldn’t openly express sexual desire, or that we should be deferential, or take on the bulk of the domestic labour and emotional caretaking as a given, I’ve never been comfortable with any of that.

I’m very willing to be by myself rather than accept a relationship where I’m expected to carry the cognitive load, you know, plan everything, or manage someone else’s emotions at my own expense. That’s never felt like a worthwhile trade-off to me.

But I’m also aware that going against the grain hasn’t necessarily ‘benefited’ me in conventional terms. It hasn’t led me to a long-term relationship. So there is a tension there.

At the same time, I can recognise the upside. I haven’t had to be in relationships that might have diminished me, or worn me down in those ways. When I really weigh it up, the trade-off still doesn’t make sense. I would rather live a happy, autonomous life than be partnered at the cost of that autonomy, even if that means missing out on the social and economic advantages that come with being in a long-term relationship.

And sometimes, the things I notice I’m missing are surprisingly small. Being single is expensive, yes, but it’s also little things. I’ve never really had someone in my day-to-day life who I could meet for lunch and who would just say, “I’ll get this.” It’s such a minor thing, but I do notice it.

Q: How do your friends or family view your current relationship status, and how does that affect you?

Ms. Almaz: This is quite a complicated one for me. I’m 37 now, and I feel like I’ve reached an age where, because I’m still very much ‘on the market’, people ask me questions they simply wouldn’t ask their friends who are married or in long-term relationships.

There’s this sense that my dating life is ‘fair game’. People will ask, “Have you got any dating gossip?” or want updates in a way that feels quite exposing and one-sided. And I often think, you wouldn’t ask your married friend how their regular date nights are going, or how many times they argued this month, or whether they feel fulfilled in their relationship. There are all these questions that we just doesn’t ask people who are already partnered.

But if you’re single, especially as a woman in your late thirties, it can feel like those boundaries don’t quite exist in the same way. You’re expected to field quite personal, sometimes invasive questions as a matter of course.

So I feel a bit ambivalent about it. And, if I’m honest, a bit tired. I’ve been dating since I was 18. That’s more than half my life spent going on dates, navigating different dynamics, and then recounting those experiences to other people.

At a certain point, you just get a bit fatigued by it all.

Q: Looking back, are there patterns in how you typically form romantic and/or sexual relationships?

Ms. Almaz: There are definitely patterns. For the past four years, I’ve found myself in a number of long-distance, open relationships. They felt serious to me in many ways, there was real intellectual and emotional connection, we vibed, conversation flowed, and the way we related to each other worked. But there was always an element of long-term unfeasibility built into the situation.

Whether it was geography, or the particular complexities of their lives, (the particular rules that they had with their other lovers, etc.), the circumstances were ultimately incompatible with what I want, both in terms of where I live and what I’m trying to build. So that’s a cycle I’m very consciously trying to break now. I’m no longer looking to date people who aren’t in my city.

And then there’s what is probably the most significant factor… I’m not really into monogamy. This has been a consistent barrier. A lot of the people I meet don’t understand my position, particularly in the context of wanting a serious, long-term relationship and a family. There’s often an assumption that those things must go hand in hand with monogamy.

I’ve had connections end because of that. I’ll express that I don’t necessarily want a monogamous structure, and that can be difficult for people to accept. Sometimes it’s framed as a threat, or misunderstood as a desire for constant novelty, rather than an orientation towards autonomy and openness.

I also think there’s something gendered in how that’s received. When a woman expresses a desire for sexual and relational autonomy, it can unsettle people in ways they don’t, or can’t, always articulate directly.

So, when I look at the patterns, it’s a mix of practical incompatibilities, like distance, and deeper ideological differences around what relationships are supposed to look like.

Q: How many significant relationships have you been in (if particular casual sexual arrangements were significant to you in some way, please do include those types of relationships here!)?

Ms. Almaz: I’ve been reflecting on this quite a lot, and the honest answer is that I haven’t been in many significant romantic partnerships, especially when I compare that to the number of people I’ve dated, hooked up with, or had sexual relationships with.

In the last four years, I would say there have been four people across three relationships… Oh yes, I was in a throuple for over two years... who felt significant in a romantic sense, each for different reasons.

But beyond that, there are others who have been significant in a different way. I’d say there are probably ten or eleven people who have been important to my growth, particularly in terms of my sexual development. They expanded my understanding of what sex could be. With them, it felt fun, free, embodied, and, completely without shame.

What’s complicated is that some of those people weren’t actually kind to me. Some of them, in fact, were quite terrible, and I’ve since blocked them. They’re not people I would ever want in my life again. And yet, I still think of those experiences as formative. They shaped a part of who I am.

So, I’m still reckoning with that contradiction, how someone can contribute something expansive and meaningful to your life in one domain, while being fundamentally misaligned, or even harmful, in another.

And then there are the people I think of as “the ones that got away”. There are three in particular. Two of them ended things with me quite early on in the dynamic, but I remember feeling genuinely excited about them, about what was beginning to form. I was very sad and disappointed when those connections ended.

The third is someone from much further back in my past, someone who, because he is very physically beautiful and posts a lot on social media, I still see him on my feed a lot, and I’m reminded of our time together often. But even with him, when I remember in more detail, I can see that the way he communicated with me isn’t something I would accept now, or want in a relationship.

So even that idea of “the ones that got away,” feels a lot less like they could have been viable relationships when I really examine them.

[Image description: Text ‘POSTSCRIPT’]

The ‘POSTSCRIPT’ segment for paid subscribers will drop on Wednesday 22 April and will feature extra verbatim text and an audio extract where Ms. Almaz answers the final question, ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’

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I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.

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[Image description: Text ‘Considering My Crushes Interview’ on a lilac background]

This is the final instalment of the ‘Considering My Crushes’ series for this season. And I’m doing something a little different…

Across the series, I’ve noticed a pattern… several contributors have looked back at their earliest crushes and recognised, with hindsight, that those feeling were early signals of the kinds of dynamics, desires and kinks that now form part of their sexuality in adulthood. So, rather than another personal essay, I’m closing this season’s series by speaking to a certified sex & relationships psychotherapist, sex educator and award-winning author, Gigi Engle, who explains how we make sense of those early memories.

‘Considering My Crushes Kinks’ interview with Gigi Engle, COSRT-registered and GSRD-accredited sex & relationships psychotherapist. Gigi also writes the Substack ‘The G Spot by Gigi Engle’

Gigi’s new book Kink Curious: A Guide to Exploring Your Kinks, Dispelling Shame and Staying Safe is out now.

This book delves deep into every corner of the kink sphere. It jumps headfirst into the foundations of powerplay, at the differences between kink and fetish, and gives you the low-down on all kinds of bondage and impact play styles, while putting mental and physical health at the forefront. Whether you want a 101 in flogging safely, to plan a roadmap for experimenting with different kinds of niche play, or to learn how to explore what your desires and boundaries are in a fun, consensual and trauma-informed way – this is the guide for you.

[Image description: Gigi Engle wears a bubble-gum pink tailored suit stands in an bookshop, smiling while holding up a copy of their book ‘Kink Curious’]

Almaz: In your work as a sex and relationships therapist, do you find that people’s earliest crushes or attractions often shape how they understand desire later in life?

Gigi Engle: Absolutely, they can. Our earliest crushes often help shape our first language around desire. They’re not always predictive in a literal sense, but they do offer clues about the emotional elements that feel exciting or meaningful to us. A crush might reflect longing for attention, admiration, safety, intensity, or even a particular kind of power dynamic (depending on the nature of the relationship in which the crush develops). Because these experiences happen while we’re still figuring out ourselves and the world, they can become a kind of template our brains remember. Later in life, people sometimes notice patterns (such as: being drawn to a similar personality type, energy, or emotional dynamic). That doesn’t mean we’re locked into those patterns forever, but those early sparks can absolutely influence how we recognize attraction and interpret chemistry as adults.

Almaz: Many people discover that their early attractions weren’t just about a person, but about a feeling, energy, or particular dynamic of power. From your professional perspective, what do those early crushes often represent for people?

Gigi Engle: Very often, those early crushes are less about the individual and more about the emotional experience they represent and then later take into our adult lives and relationships. Someone might have been drawn to a person who felt powerful, rebellious, nurturing, mysterious, or unattainable. What they’re really responding to is the feeling state that dynamic creates. Our brains are incredibly good at linking attraction to emotional intensity. Things like admiration, awe, vulnerability, or the thrill of transgression can all play a role in that emotional landscape.

In therapy, we sometimes unpack those early experiences and discover they were pointing toward a deeper desire for a certain relational dynamic. Perhaps wanting to be cared for, wanting to feel chosen, or wanting to explore control or surrender etc. When people realise this, it can be quite liberating because it reframes attraction as information about what makes them feel alive or emotionally engaged. It provides a lot of information for self-understanding.

Almaz: Your latest book, Kink Curious, explores power play, bondage and different forms of kink in a shame-free way. Why do you think it still carries so much stigma today?

Gigi Engle: A lot of stigma around kink comes from a long history of misunderstanding and moral panic around sexuality in general. For decades, anything outside a very narrow definition of ‘normal’ sex was labelled deviant or pathological, and those ideas still linger culturally. Kink, particularly when we talk about power exchange, tends to trigger people’s fears because it challenges simplistic ideas about sex being purely romantic or purely equal in every moment. In reality, consensual, intentional kink is extremely thoughtful and communicative. People negotiate boundaries, discuss desires, and prioritise safety in ways many vanilla couples never explicitly do. But because kink involves fantasies that can look intense from the outside, it’s easy for outsiders to confuse consensual play with harm. Education helps shift that narrative by showing that kink culture is fundamentally rooted in consent, communication, and trust. And my book offers a roadmap to help unpack a lot of the cultural messages we receive (which are rooted in that shame narrative) in order to find ways to authentically integrate your desires into your sex life in whatever way feels good for you.

Almaz: In your work, you emphasise curiosity over shame. If someone is reflecting on their early crushes and realising those feelings shaped their desires later in life, what’s a healthy way to approach that discovery?

Gigi Engle: The healthiest approach is to treat those discoveries with curiosity instead of judgment. Our desires don’t emerge in a vacuum. Instead, they develop through experiences, emotions, culture, and imagination. When someone notices a connection between early attractions and their adult desires, that’s not something to pathologise. It’s simply information about what their nervous system finds exciting or meaningful.

I encourage people to ask gentle questions such as:

What about that dynamic felt compelling?

Was it the attention, the tension, the feeling of being seen, or the thrill of power exchange?

Understanding the emotional layer beneath attraction can help people make more intentional choices in their relationships. Curiosity allows us to integrate those insights into our adult lives in ways that are consensual, intentional, and aligned with our values.

Almaz: Kink is often surrounded by myths and misunderstandings. What do you most want people to unlearn about kink culture?

Gigi Engle: The biggest myth I’d love people to unlearn is that kink is inherently dangerous or that it reflects something psychologically ‘wrong’ with the people who enjoy it. In reality, research consistently shows that people who practice consensual kink are healthy/normal and often highly skilled at communication and boundary-setting. Kink culture places emphasis on consent, negotiation, and aftercare and these are concepts that every sexual relationship could benefit from.

Another misconception is that kink is always extreme. For many people, it’s actually quite subtle. It can be as simple as a shift in power, a particular role you and/or a partner are inhabiting, or a shared fantasy. At its core, kink is simply about exploring desire creatively and consensually, within a power dynamic framework. When people understand that, it becomes much less intimidating and much more accessible for folx.

Almaz: For people who are ‘kink curious’ but perhaps a little nervous about where to start, what would you say is the most important first step?

Gigi Engle: The most important first step is education and self-reflection. Before trying anything physically, it’s helpful to spend some time understanding what actually interests you and why. That might mean reading books, listening to podcasts, or having open conversations with a partner about fantasies and boundaries. This is where my book can be a big help. It’s for anyone who is just starting out there journey and wants to begin at the foundational layer of understanding themselves and what they actually want.

Kink isn’t about jumping straight into elaborate scenes. It often starts with small explorations of trust, communication, and shared curiosity. I also encourage people to move slowly and prioritise consent at every stage. Discuss expectations, establish clear boundaries, and check in regularly with each other. When people approach kink with patience and openness, it becomes a collaborative process of discovery rather than something scary.

Almaz: If you could go back and give your younger self a piece of advice about desire, attraction or sexuality, now that you’re a sex and relationship professional what would it be?

Gigi Engle: I would tell my younger self that there’s nothing wrong with being curious about your desires. Many of us grow up absorbing the idea that sexuality should fit a very specific mold, and so anything outside that can feel confusing and shameful. I’d remind her that desire is incredibly diverse and that exploring what genuinely excites or moves you is a healthy part of understanding yourself.

I’d also say that communication is everything. Being able to talk openly about needs, boundaries, and fantasies is far more important than trying to be “perfect” in a relationship.

Most of all, I’d reassure her that sexuality is something that evolves throughout life. You’re allowed to learn, change, and discover new things about yourself along the way.

About Gigi Engle

Gigi is an associate clinician at The Therapy Yard. In her clinical work as a COSRT-registered and GSRD-accredited sex & relationships psychotherapist, Gigi specializes in working with GSRD (Gender, Sexuality, and Relationship Diverse) clients, including the LGBTQIA+ community, kinky folx, and the polyamorous & open community. She is also the author of two books: Kink Curious and All The F*cking Mistakes.

As a sex expert for various sexual wellness brands, Gigi promotes and teaches pleasure-based sex education, kink, GSRD relationships, and safer sex practices. She is also an educator at JoyClub.

Substack

The G-Spot by Gigi Engle

Unpacking sexuality from a feminist, sex-positive perspective. You'll find weekly personalized, hella informational (and fun) investigations on love and sex, monthly Q&As, and all the juicy articles I've read over the week. Your Auntie G has the tea.

Website and Social Media

missgigiengle.com | @gigiengle

Previous posts in the ‘Considering My Crushes’ series:

Dani Conlon, community manager in the reproductive health and sexy space, writes about her crushes from the late 1990s and early 2000s, which were animated TV characters as well as and Hollywood film stars

Ally Iseman, CRC, a modern relationship expert and founder of global platform Passport 2 Pleasure describes her crush on animated Disney character Aladdin as a kid, which then played out in the early 2000 when she hooked-up with a EuroDisney actor who played Aladdin.

Founder of multi-award-winning anti-racist brand consultancy, Brand by Me, Collette Philip writes about her crush 80s British television star Matthew Kelly, pop superstar Michael Jackson and the cultural ubiquity of whiteness.

Podcaster and journalist Bethany Burgoyne writes about her early 00s crushes on cute actor Jeremy Sumpter in his role as Peter Pan and a whole host of fine young women from TV and film.

Writer and civil liberties expert Gracie Mae Bradley described her late nineties and early noughties rock star crushes Tom DeLonge from rock band Blink-182 and Less Than Jake band member Chris DeMakes.

Sex Educator Ruth Ramsay wrote about her 80s and 90s crushes that were sparked by seeing leather and bondage in pop and rock music video for bands like Duran Duran, Mötley Crüe and Eurythmics.

Sensuality Educator Oli Lipski (AKA ‘The Queer Sensualist’) wrote about her crushes, which included Anthony Kiedis, Hayley Williams, Sienna Miller, Blake Lively and Ed Westwick.

Almaz remember her adolescence and young womanhood where she crushed on anything and everything that had a pulse. During this era, she kept journals and scrapbooks where she’d write lengthy lists of crushes and also cut out pics and make poster collages. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.

Author Justin Myers (AKA ‘The Guyliner’) wrote about his crushes, Harry from school, Jake Gyllenhaal, Maxwell Caulfield, Jordan Knight, Will Smith and Jamie Dornan.

Author Peter Apps wrote a piece about his early crushes, Princess Jasmine, Blue Peter presenter Katy Hill, J-Lo and the character Cassie from the Animorph’s book series.

Author and multi-hyphenate and Karla Marie Sweet wrote an essay on her crushes on Aladdin, footballer Paul Ince, Spice Girl Mel C and lots of sexy actresses from film and TV.

Almaz described her early 00s crushes on Sirius Black and Kingsley Shacklebolt from Harry Potter; Harvey, Romeo and Asher D from So Solid Crew. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.

Almaz went back to the mid/late 90s, to her first crushes who were Peter Pan, Damon Albarn, Billy Kennedy, Ernst Robinson and US President Bill Clinton.

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I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.
Visit my Work With Almaz page 😃

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Please do ‘like’ this post via the heart icon (❤️) that appears at the very top and bottom of this post, as it’s the best way to help others find my work.

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[Image description: Text ‘It Stuck With Me No. 08’ on a lilac background]

Gap Year Exploits

In 2008, when I was 19 and on my gap year, I flew to Accra, Ghana, to spend some months re-connecting with extended family in my homeland. At the time, I was in a very new relationship with my first ever boyfriend, someone I’d met while we were both working at a bar in Sheffield, and with whom I had been spending an inordinate amount of time in his shared student house, the two of us slipping easily into that early stage of a relationship where everything about each other feels novel and wonderful, particularly when it came to getting to know each other’s bodies. He was my first ever sexual partner and I felt very grown up having ‘The Chat’ with him. You know, the one about ‘not wanting to use condoms anymore, so I had better get myself on the pill.’

I was feeling content in my burgeoning womanhood. And yet, there was something about the timing of the trip and the length of it (the fact I’d be away for months rather than weeks) that made the relationship feel slightly provisional, as though our connection wouldn’t withstand that kind of distance. Or perhaps, it was that I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted it to…

So I broke up with him.

Not with any real sense of finality, mind, but with the unspoken understanding (at least on my part) that this was a ‘pause’, rather than an ‘ending’. And that he’d probably agree, quite easily, to picking things back up once I returned. Mostly, though, it meant I could embark on new experiences without the limitation of the phrase “I have a boyfriend.”

Once settled into my life in Accra, where I was a teaching assistant at an independent school and an apprentice at a hair braiding salon, I started heading out dancing at the weekends with a new friend who felt, in lots of ways, like a parallel version of me. She was curious about bodies and desire, but the respectability politics at play within my social circles of well-educated Accra church folk, meant that being chaste was the only option for young, unmarried women. People dated to marry. And aesthetic conformity – of hair, dress, and demeanour – was not explicitly enforced, but rarely deviated from.

Sleeveless tops, miniskirts, multiple piercings, or dancing in ways that drew attention to the movement of the hips were coded as low class, or worse, as suggestive of a looseness that could compromise one’s standing.

I’d received an ‘A’ grade for my Sociology A-Level, which, according to the exam board, meant I was already good at observing and decoding social norms. And so, what struck me, about the upper-middle-class social circles in Accra, was how closely everyone reproduced the colonial inheritance. This disciplining of the body and its expressions echoed missionary ideals of modesty and restraint, where to be respectable was to be contained, and where the expressive, rhythmic movement that came so naturally within Ghanaian culture – bodies popping, winin’, grinding, and moving in ways that felt intuitive rather than learned – was recast as something excessive, something to be tempered or withheld. So, for young women like my friend and me who were positioned as educated and upwardly mobile, we were accountable to these expectations.

And this kind of behaviour policing was new to me. By the time I was away in Ghana, I’d already been a nightclub regular for a number of years. I revelled in the energy of a crowded, sweaty dancefloor. I saw how people responded to the way I moved. The flicker of a smirk, the spark of something like desire. I learned to read the language of bodies in motion, to interpret the subtle cues of interest, hesitance, or indifference.

Whenever I pulled an introverted guy onto the dance floor, I adjusted my energy to meet his. If he stood awkwardly, unsure how to mirror me, I’d sway gently, coaxing him with a softer rhythm. If he didn’t take the bait and made no attempt to close the space between us, I’d smile, suggest heading to the bar, and let him buy me a drink instead. But if he stepped into my space, hands tentative on my waist, I’d melt into him, letting my movements guide his.

In the UK, dancing like this carried a certain social currency. Moving your body in a way that suggested confidence, ease and a kind of sexual fluency, often translated into attention and validation. And so, to find myself in a context where those same movements were discouraged felt disorienting. The kinetic vocabulary I’d picked up from music videos was suddenly being treated as something inappropriate by the people within my social circle in Accra.

But this actually didn’t matter to my friend and I, as we went out and danced in the way we wanted, regardless. And there’s one particular night out that remains etched in my memory.

The music is already loud when we arrive. Bass-y and rhythmic. We buy drinks from the bar and head to the dancefloor. After a while, we notice two hot, young rastas watching us. One of them looks like Wesley Snipes in his White Men Can’t Jump era, all dark shiny skin and bulging biceps underneath his black, green and gold string vest, and the other wears his cargo pants low enough to show off his cut V-line. My friend and I bite our lower lips, they were just sooooo attractive. And they were watching us.

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Previous posts in the ‘It Stuck With Me’ series:

Guest post by a fellow Substacker who wishes to remain anonymous. This one is about a visit to a strip club.

It’s the summer of 2007, and I’ve just finished school forever. I’m partying with some guy friends in the coastal town of Bournemouth, UK. We end up in a strip club… Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.

I revisit a relationship I first wrote about in a piece for British Vogue in 2020. At 24, I met a 50-year-old divorced man at a literary event and a year later began a sporadic sexual relationship with him. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.

I wrote about an age-inappropriate flirtation-of-sorts I had when I had an after-school job as a teen. His attention is addictive, especially when compared to how the boys my own age ignored me.:

In this vignette, ‘The Mooning’, I’m at a sleepover party at my friend’s 10th birthday. Her parents run a pub, so they live in the flat above. As usual, all of us girls are up to mischief. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.

In this vignette, ‘A Single Playing Card’, I’m nine or 10 years old and together, my primary school pals and I find a playing card in the dirt. It’s pornographic and we are stunned. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.

In the vignette, ‘School Disco’, it’s the summer of 1997 and I’m having the best time dancing to Hanson’s ‘MmmBop’, the Grease MegaMix and T-Spoon’s ‘Sex on the Beach’ (inappropriate!):

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I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.
Visit my Work With Almaz page 😃

Follow me on Instagram | Visit my website

Read more

If this project is something that you value, and want it to continue, readers are encouraged to upgrade to paid. With a paid subscription you’ll gain access to the content beyond the paywall and unrestricted access to the full archive of this newsletter.

Paid subscriptions are either billed monthly at £3.79 (less than a coffee ☕️) or annually at £34.99.

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[Image description: Text ‘Relationship Status Unfiltered No. 05’ on a lilac background]

‘Relationship Status: Unfiltered’ is bold, yet gentle interview series speaking to people across the spectrum of romantic and sexual experience, from high school sweethearts and solo polyamorists, to swingers, co-parents, serial monogamists and asexual folk. Each conversation follows the same of questions, revealing what people really think about love, commitment, dating and desire; from the inside of these relationships themselves.

These ‘Relationship Status: Unfiltered’ take place as informal chats over videocall, and I record the audio so that I can pull the responses together for the Q&A format below.

‘Ms. RST’

Q: Describe your current relationship status (be specific e.g. married for [x] years / co-habiting with partner(s) for [x] years / single and dating for [x] months).

‘Ms. RST’: I’ve been with my partner for four and a half years, and we’ve lived together for the last year and a half. That’s probably the least interesting part of my story.

Q: Are there any labels (e.g., monogamous, polyamorous, queer, traditional) you identify with in terms of relationships? How do you relate to those labels?

‘Ms. RST’: I identify as a woman, and I’m bisexual. I’ve never actually been in a relationship with a woman. I’ve had some encounters, but I haven’t had the opportunity to explore that side of myself in great depth. My partner is very open-minded; his ex was also bi. I think he’s drawn to that openness, and that was very attractive to me.

In terms of labels, I’d currently describe myself as monogamous, but not rigidly so. I’m not closed to the idea of that evolving. When I was younger, fluidity wasn’t really framed as an option, everything felt very fixed and binary. Later, I explored different relationship structures more academically, reading about polyamory, hearing people’s stories about what has and hasn’t worked. I find it fascinating.

I don’t think I’d have the mental or emotional capacity to manage a fully polyamorous relationship long term, but I completely see how it works for some people. And I’m not immune to the idea of becoming “monogamish” at some point of pushing boundaries and exploring something adjacent to monogamy.

What makes me feel secure is that nothing is taboo between us. If either of us wanted to explore something, we’d talk about it. There wouldn’t be blame or sudden reactivity. I’ve seen what happens when you can’t broach those subjects, they fester, and then explode.

So yes, I’d describe myself as monogamous. Currently, we’re very happy together. But we’d be able to table other options, should we ever wish to explore beyond it.

Q: What’s the story behind your current situation (e.g. please describe how you got together with your partner(s) / decided to open things up / start dating again after a big break-up)?

‘Ms. RST’: I split up with my husband during the pandemic, which is not something I recommend. But afterwards, I honestly felt ready for something different. I was ready to go and explore. I almost wanted a kind of second adolescence.

I’d fallen into a relationship at university and then into marriage, and I’d never really had time to play the field, certainly not with my newer understanding of my sexuality and my curiosity around it. So I had my ‘Hot Girl Summer’ and had a number of really amazing encounters and was really enjoying just being free and exploring myself. I had no intention of getting into a relationship.

I even changed my dating profile on ‘Feeld’ at one point to say that I might be open to having a primary partner with openness to explore. And it was around that time that I met my now-partner. We didn’t meet on an app though, we met in real life, through a shared interest, and I instantly felt this connection.

It was interesting because I’d spent the whole summer breaking down boundaries around monogamy, and then I suddenly found myself weirdly concerned about him being eleven years younger. We ended up talking a lot over text, and it became apparent really quickly, even before we’d spent loads of time together, that we had this huge connection. I felt very drawn to him.

When we started dating, I knew very quickly that I was in trouble… in a good way. He’d also just come out of a fairly long relationship and was extremely keen not to get into anything serious. We were both very determined to say, “No, we’re going to stay free. We’re going to date other people.”

But within a few weeks, I was on another date and found myself thinking about him. And I thought, this isn’t really fair to anyone. So I told him I was going to stop seeing other people. Within a week or two, he’d come to the same conclusion independently, which was fortunate.

From very early on, we were good at having quite difficult conversations without obligation, without pressure. We were both free to make the choice. And I think knowing that we could have continued dating around made it easier to say, actually, this is going to be a relationship. And we’re okay with that.

Q: Have cultural, familial, or societal expectations shaped your relationship choices in any way? How?

‘Ms. RST’: I think we touched on some of this earlier. I went to an all-girls school, grew up in the suburbs, quite a ‘traditional’ environment. It led me down a very well-trodden path. I went to Oxbridge, into consulting… I basically started doing all the things you’re “meant” to do.

It took me a long time to realise I’d sort of sleepwalked into that life. I didn’t even really question it. Things like when I get married “of course I’m going to take my husband’s surname”. I liked to think of myself as open-minded and enlightened, but I still fell into the trap of doing the “right” things in the “right” order without stopping to ask, is this actually what I want?

Things started ‘falling apart’ gradually once I was living in London. I’ve always known I wanted to live in a city, even as a child, I felt constrained in the suburbs. I moved to London straight after university and never left. Being there, away from my parents, exposed to different subcultures, creative spaces, different ways of living, gave me freedom. Leaving my corporate job was the first real rupture. It was seen as taboo, my family were horrified. But that was the beginning.

I don’t think I had two separate identities, suburban and city, it’s more that the city allowed me to become more fully myself. My mum recently described me as “born independent,” which really struck me. It’s taken her a long time to accept that I want to do things my own way.

She gave up work to raise me and poured everything into me. She has very strong ideas about how things should be, ‘keeping up appearances’, doing things ‘properly’. There was always a sense that there was a correct way to live, to dress, to behave. I would play along, but there was always part of me thinking, “is it really, though?”

A lot of my adulthood has been this gradual unravelling, validating something I think I always knew, that I can make different choices. That has been hard for my relationship with my parents. Realising that I will make decisions they wouldn’t make, and that’s okay. It’s my life. And it’s been good to live that without feeling obligated.

Q: Looking back, are there patterns in how you typically form romantic and/or sexual relationships?

‘Ms. RST’: Yes. It’s all very cliché, really. If I look back at my romantic life before my current relationship, I fell very hard for someone very early on. And then everything after that, including my marriage, was very much ‘head’, not ‘heart’.

At university, my pattern was that I’d set my sights on someone who felt attainable. I’d get a sense that they quite liked me, and then I’d sort of engineer it, do what I needed to do to make it obvious that they wanted me. And once that happened, I’d lose interest. So eventually I started going for ‘safe’ options.

I became very invested in the idea of not being codependent. I was almost horrified by the idea of needing someone too much. I really wanted to keep this clean line between myself and my partner, and I thought that was very clever, very evolved. In reality, undoing that became the subject of a lot of therapy. I was very bad at making myself vulnerable. It’s classic stuff, really, you don’t want to get hurt.

In terms of expectations, I was always a very ‘good girl’. Gifted-kid, people-pleasing, burnout, all of that. I worried a lot about whether people were judging me. So undoing some of those expectations has been really scary.

Even now, my parents don’t know that I’m bisexual. I don’t think they’d disown me, but I don’t think they’d understand it. And that makes me sad. I sometimes feel it’s not worth the anxiety it would cause them, trying to process what it means, whether it means I’ll cheat, or that something’s unstable. I don’t think they’re equipped, in the way I would need them to be, to just treat it as a non-issue.

So I like to say I’ve opened the box and I’m free, but I’m not totally free. Some non-standard choices feel easier to own. Dating someone more than a decade younger is seen as fun, almost cool, people joke about it. That’s socially legible. Talking about being bisexual, or having enjoyed threesomes, feels different.

It’s a mixed bag. I’ve become much more comfortable over time. I’m out at work, properly out, for the first time, which has been significant. And I still encounter those strange misconceptions about bisexuality, especially because I was married to a man. People say, “Oh, you don’t present that way.” As if there’s a way to present it.

So yes, there are patterns. Some of them I’ve repeated. Some of them I’ve had to consciously unlearn.

Q: After how long did your current relationship become sexual?

‘Ms. RST’: Very quickly. We’d been texting a lot, then we went on our first date and we had sex that night.

I actually hadn’t planned to. It’s funny, because I had this instinctive thought of, “Oh, if I really like him, I shouldn’t sleep with him on the first date.” And he sort of gently picked that apart. He was like, “That’s interesting, why do you think that would mess it up?”

It brought me right back to that old conditioning the idea that if you like someone, you should hold back, that having sex too soon somehow devalues it. And when I really interrogated it, I realised I didn’t actually believe that.

He was very respectful the whole time, but he also questioned me. Not in a pressuring way, more in a curious way. And I think that dynamic, the respect, but also the willingness to examine assumptions, set the tone for us quite early on.

Q: How many significant relationships have you been in (if particular casual sexual arrangements were significant to you in some way, please do include those types of relationships here!)?

This question has made me think, if we’re talking about relationships that genuinely changed me, I’d say three.

If we expand the definition to include significant sexual connections, then there are a few more. There were certain periods of exploration that were incredibly important in terms of what they taught me and how they shifted me. For example, the first person I slept with after breaking up with my husband, that was huge. I remember thinking, “Oh My God, sex is amazing!!!”. It was less about that individual and more about what it represented, rediscovery and possibility.

So yes, three core relationships, but also a handful of significant sexual experiences that shaped me, in terms of what I learned and how I changed.

Q: What does commitment mean to you in the context of your current relationship(s)?

‘Ms. RST’: Weirdly, I still, kind of, do want to get married again. I’m not entirely sure why, because I’m not religious. There’s maybe something practical about it. A bit of paperwork isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but I don’t think that’s really what it’s about.

For me, commitment now is more about an understanding that we’re not going to stay the same forever. We’re going to evolve. And the commitment is to navigating that evolution together, discussing it, rather than clinging to some traditional version of commitment where you’re bound together and if anything deviates from the original shape, that’s seen as failure.

It’s about listening. Being there for the journey of how you’re each changing. And celebrating that, too.

We actually do an ‘annual review’, which sounds very corporate, but it’s intentional. It’s a moment to take stock. Otherwise, you forget what you’ve built together, what it’s ‘cost you’, how much you’ve learned. Existential work, almost.

Previous posts in the ‘Relationship Status: Unfiltered’ series:

‘Ms. LMN’ is 36 and has been married to her husband for 12 years and together for 18 years; they met in sixth form, were friends for two years before becoming a couple, and became inseparable:

I share some more content from the interview with ‘Ms. LMN as verbatim audio clips and more transcript text where he answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’, and I talk about whether she has any regrets about settling down so young. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

‘Ms. ABC’ is 36 and came out of a relationship a couple of months ago. She’s been using the dating app Hinge to get some dates, but is bored of the whole process:

I share some more content from the interview with ‘Ms. ABC’ as verbatim audio clips and more transcript text where he answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’. ‘Ms. ABC’ has lived and dated in both Manchester and London, and notes differences in how people date in the North versus the South. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

‘Mr. EFG’ is a 45-year-old married man who’s been with his husband for 17 years in total and married for seven:

I share some more content from the interview with ‘Mr. EFG’ as verbatim audio clips and more transcript text where he answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’. ‘Mr. EFG’ and I talk about his fetish for lads in sportswear, which was influenced by the film Flash Gordon. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

‘Mr. XYZ’ revealed how the impact of media portrayals, particularly romcoms and lads mags influenced how he saw the cultural expectations of being in a relationship as an adolescent. We also chatted about the role of labels and the balance between personal freedom and relationship stability:

I share some more content from the interview with ‘Mr. XYZ’ as verbatim audio clips and more transcript text where he answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’. ‘Mr. XYZ’ and I talk about the influence of romcom tropes on how he views relationships. We also touch on how the current ubiquity of smartphones means that people look at their screens while on the street, rather than looking around them, or at other people. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

[Image description: Text ‘POSTSCRIPT’]

The ‘POSTSCRIPT’ segment for paid subscribers will drop on Wednesday 18 March and will feature extra verbatim text and an audio extract where ‘Ms. RST’ answers the final question, ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’

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I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.

Visit my Work With Almaz page 😃

Follow me on Instagram | Visit my website

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Please do ‘like’ this post via the heart icon (❤️) that appears at the very top and bottom of this post, as it’s the best way to help others find my work.

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[Image description: Text ‘It Stuck With Me – Guest Post’ on a lilac background]

Strip Club

I grabbed my pint glass and filled it with vomit which was – for reasons I can’t explain – radioactive orange. At which point I remembered that I was drinking a WKD out of a bottle and it wasn’t my glass. It belonged to the burly 40-something next to me and he was not best pleased. Mark*, to his credit, saved me from being chinned.

The bouncers ensured I was promptly thrown out onto the pavement and informed I had a life ban. The ban was unnecessary. I have never again darkened the door of that strip club, or any other. It went out of business before I finished university.

My memory of it – aside from sheer, unfiltered, scorching, PH1 level shame – is mostly that it was sad. The punters looked miserable, the bouncers looked miserable, the poor young lady on stage looked unbearably miserable. There was absolutely no glamour, it had an atmosphere I can only associate with a high street bookies early on a Tuesday morning.

I felt the same, a few years later, when I walked around the red light district of Amsterdam on a visit to the city. There was a gaping soulless emptiness, something horrible in the transactional nature of what was going on and the mundanity of it that appeared – to me at least – to culminate in the grim dehumanisation of everyone involved.

Anyway, this is my memory of a strip club. It’s partial, it’s biased by my disappointment of the night and it’s clouded by time and alcohol. But I can certainly say I’ve never wanted to go back.

When I tell people I spent my 19th birthday in a strip bar, they always look a little taken aback.

I don’t think it fits my aesthetic: a skinny-limbed, bookish and perennially unfashionable dad of two who likes nice wine, foreign cinema and test match cricket.

It isn’t something I bring up very much, but if conversation for some reason drifts in the direction of strip bars my instinct towards oversharing gets the better of me, and I reveal my past. Cue the slight raise of eyebrows and a comment like “oh, really”, which translates as either “you’re less boring than I thought” or “you’re more of a prick than I thought”, depending on preferences.

The truth is I never wanted to go to the strip bar, and I didn’t even realise I was inside one until it was far too late. The journey began with a very disappointing 19th birthday. It was my freshers year at university in a highly generic English town, whose nightlife had been colonised by its students. I had hopefully invited several “friends from home” up for what I hoped would be a big birthday bash, where I would introduce my very large crowd of cool, popular and attractive friends from my home town to my very large crowd of cool, popular and attractive new friends from university – cementing my status among both groups as cool, popular and attractive.

This isn’t what happened. In the event, only two friends from home made it, both of home were people I knew fairly peripherally, hadn’t gone to university themselves and fancied the chance of a small sample of the wild night life they were being teased with in their former peers regular Facebook updates (why did we insist on tagging each other in hundreds of drunk photos between 2007 and 2009?)

The new crowd of university friends then eschewed the event entirely and I ended up on a night out with these two semi-mates from home, both hoping that I, now alone, would give them a taste of the university good life. One worked part-time as a janitor in a primary school, the other didn’t work and lived with his parents. There’s nothing wrong with either of those choices. Indeed, you could certainly argue that they were better than mine, a social anthropology degree at a middling university: none of us were doing much for our future career prospects, but I was the only one getting majorly into debt.

But their post sixth form choices had not blessed them with the exciting night life that they believed university offered. It was my job to show it to them. For reasons I can’t fully remember, I hadn’t eaten much that day. I can’t recall exactly what I’d lined my stomach with, but it was probably a banana and a sausage roll from ASDA (smart-price section).

I began with the long-established university tradition of pre-drinking, and it being a) my birthday and b) a poke-your-own-eyes-out-with-pins embarrassment compared to what I’d hoped for, I went pretty hard. Too hard. Far too hard for the banana and the sausage roll to cope with and before long we were in a taxi on our way into town and the guide for the night was barely conscious. It was over to my two companions to decide what to do next.

And that’s how I found myself sitting on a squeaky leather sofa, not really sure why it was so dark, hoping the DJ would turn the music down a bit so I could hear what Mark* was trying to tell me about the latest Call of Duty.

Eventually, it dawned on me where we were. I’m not sure what gave it away, but I imagine it was the topless woman in a thong pole dancing on the stage, not something you get on the average student night. I leaned back, closed my eyes and wished I was at home watching The IT Crowd on 4OD on my laptop.

After a little while, nature called and I stumbled my way in the direction of a bathroom. I went round one corner, round another, opened a door and wondered why the gents in this place had floor to ceiling stainless steel poles. I had found my way on stage. I stood blinking, stupidly, for a moment until a bouncer roughly dragged me back down to the land of the punters. I apologised, drunkenly, and was sternly told it was my last warning.

“Is he ok?” said bouncer asked my mate.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” they lied.

I wasn’t fine. In fact, a gurgling of stomach acid informed me that I was about to pay the biological price for drinking cheap spirits on an empty stomach. It was time to meet the banana and sausage roll once more - in their post-stomach acid state. It was too late to make another attempt to navigate the dark labyrinth to the bogs, this was coming up now.

By this point in the anecdote, people tend to have shifted from their “not so boring” or “more of a prick” appraisal of me. There’s still something in their eyes though, different to what was there before I started talking. Something perhaps approaching pity.

*names have been changed, obviously

[ENDS]

Previous posts in the ‘It Stuck With Me’ series:

It’s the summer of 2007 and I’ve just finished school forever. I’m partying with some guy friends in the coastal town of Bournemouth. We end up in a strip club…

I revisit a relationship I first wrote about in a piece for British Vogue in 2020. At 24, I met a 50-year-old divorced man at a literary event and a year later began a sporadic sexual relationship with him. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid:

I wrote about an age-inappropriate flirtation-of-sorts I had when I had an after-school job as a teen. His attention is addictive, especially when compared to how the boys my own age ignored me.:

In this vignette, ‘The Mooning’, I’m at a sleepover party at my friend’s 10th birthday. Her parents run a pub, so they live in the flat above. As usual, all of us girls are up to mischief. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid):

In this vignette, ‘A Single Playing Card’, I’m nine or 10 years old and together, my primary school pals and I find a playing card in the dirt. It’s pornographic and we are stunned. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid:

In the vignette, ‘School Disco’, it’s the summer of 1997 and I’m having the best time dancing to Hanson’s ‘MmmBop’, the Grease MegaMix and T-Spoon’s ‘Sex on the Beach’ (inappropriate!):

[Image description: Text ‘PRODUCED BY’]

I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.

Visit my Work With Almaz page 😃

Follow me on Instagram | Visit my website

Book/Commission me!

Please do ‘like’ this post via the heart icon (❤️) that appears at the very top and bottom of this post, as it’s the best way to help others find my work.

If this project is something that you value, and want it to continue, readers are encouraged to upgrade to paid. With a paid subscription you’ll gain access to the content beyond the paywall and unrestricted access to the full archive of this newsletter.

Paid subscriptions are either billed monthly at £3.79 (less than a coffee ☕️) or annually at £34.99.

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Support

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[Image description: Text ‘It Stuck With Me No. 06’ on a lilac background]

Wiggle’s

It’s the summer of 2007 and I’ve just finished school forever. Exams done, exercise books packed away, the adult world just on the horizon. Most of my friends will be starting university in the Autumn. I’ve deferred my place for a year, but I haven’t made any major plans yet. I just know I want to get out of my hometown. So it’s a strange, weightless in-between time.

I’m down on the south coast visiting a couple of guy friends, boys I’d met at Christian Summer camp some years before. We’d kept in touch via MSN Messenger, but also wrote letters back and forth, and then reunited each summer at camp.

One of them has just turned eighteen, and so a celebratory night out is in order. We hit the town in Bournemouth. Me and eight (!) lads. I wasn’t sure what to make of the ratio, but I was flattered to be included. I liked being the girl who could hang.

Before we head to the town centre, we run into the nearest off-licence for a last-minute top-up. The boys grab the cheapest lager and bottles of WKD. We drink as we wander down towards the seafront. Someone suggests the pier, someone else wants chips. Most of us get a cone of chips. We lean over the railings, flicking scraps and watching the seagulls swoop down and snaffle them up.

By the time we hit the bars in town, we’re already tipsy. The boys are in full show-off mode, arm-wrestling on sticky tabletops and shouting over each other about football teams I don’t care about. One of them teaches me a silly secret handshake that we repeat every time we pass each other.

Our final stop is Wiggle Gentleman’s Club. I’m surprised when the bouncer waves me in without asking for an entry fee. Apparently, women get in free. I breeze past the velvet rope, pretending I do this sort of thing all the time.

The narrow hallway is lit with that pinky-red glow reminiscent of the film Moulin Rouge that we were all obsessed with.

I’d imagined a strip club so many times before thanks to a steady diet of late-nineties and early-noughties music videos: ‘The Next Episode’ by Dr Dre ft. Snoop Dogg, the Pussycat Dolls’ ‘Buttons,’ Britney’s new hit ‘Gimme More’…

The visual vocabulary of those videos had already seeped deep into my teenage psyche; slow-motion hair flicks, paper money swirling through the air, bodies luminous bathed in the studio lights.

As we walk down the corridor, a private montage flickers through my mind; those slick, hyper-stylised worlds where alluring women gyrate on poles and chairs.

To read the remainder of this essay beyond the paywall, you’ll need to upgrade to a paid subscription.

Upgrade to paid

Previous posts in the ‘It Stuck With Me’ series:

I revisit a relationship I first wrote about in a piece for British Vogue in 2020. At 24, I met a 50-year-old divorced man at a literary event and a year later began a sporadic sexual relationship with him. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid:

I wrote about an age-inappropriate flirtation-of-sorts I had when I had an after-school job as a teen. His attention is addictive, especially when compared to how the boys my own age ignored me.:

In this vignette, ‘The Mooning’, I’m at a sleepover party at my friend’s 10th birthday. Her parents run a pub, so they live in the flat above. As usual, all of us girls are up to mischief. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid:

In this vignette, ‘A Single Playing Card’, I’m nine or 10 years old and together, my primary school pals and I find a playing card in the dirt. It’s pornographic and we are stunned. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid:

In the vignette, ‘School Disco’, it’s the summer of 1997 and I’m having the best time dancing to Hanson’s ‘MmmBop’, the Grease MegaMix and T-Spoon’s ‘Sex on the Beach’ (inappropriate!):

[Image description: Text ‘PRODUCED BY’]

I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.
Visit my Work With Almaz page 😃

Follow me on Instagram | Visit my website

Book/Commission me!

Read more

If this project is something that you value, and want it to continue, readers are encouraged to upgrade to paid. With a paid subscription you’ll gain access to the content beyond the paywall and unrestricted access to the full archive of this newsletter.

Paid subscriptions are either billed monthly at £3.79 (less than a coffee ☕️) or annually at £34.99.

Upgrade to paid

If you would prefer to make a one-off donation, feel free to send a contribution via PayPal.

Support

You can also show your enjoyment without spending £££, by liking, commenting, restacking via Notes, or by just generally sharing 😃

Share

[Image description: Text ‘Considering My Crushes Guest Post’ on a lilac background]

This guest post series is a space where writers in my community think about their crushes on celebs, fictional characters, or, indeed, our next-door neighbour, weaving cultural critique with personal longing. It’s a space where obsession, admiration, and projection are all welcome.

This piece is about late 90s animated TV characters and early 00s film stars.

‘Considering My Crushes’ by Dani Conlon, a community manager in the reproductive health and səxy space. Dani also writes the Substack ‘Kiss and Tell’

Having a crush was and still is now, probably (definitely) the most exciting thing to happen. Who doesn’t love the butterflies, the excitement, that giddy feeling, the magic of it all?

Ever since I can remember, I have always crushed HARD, and even the rare moments I’m not crushing, I kind of feel like I’m missing something, someone, if you will ;)

I remember moving to the UK from The Philippines in 2003 when I was 5 years old and to get a taste of #britishlife, my dad would take us on weekend getaways to explore the forever stunning Yorkshire, and there are actually videos of me dancing in the middle of beautiful nature parks, whispering to the camera…“do you know who I fancy? Shh, that’s my secret.” Dani knew who she was at a very young age – a diva.

So thinking back to my first ever crush comes with a bit of childhood nostalgia. It was a boy at my school in Manila, The Philippines, called Marcus – he was the only boy in school with blonde hair, which made him stand out to me as most Filipino kids have dark hair.

My parents still mention my sadness leaving Marcus when I moved countries, cause like the best loves, we barely spoke to each other!

In true rom-com fashion, my next crush was as cliché as you’d expect… my next door neighbour, Lewis and also strangely not the last time I fancied my next door neighbour 👀 of 5 years. I’m not sure if my fondness of him was ever acknowledged by him, because he ended up moving house. My mum still catches up with his mom 22 years later, and they laugh about me blushing whenever I spoke to him.

Speaking of next door neighbours – one of my significant fictional character crushes was none other than Matt from 13 Going on 30, aka Mark Ruffalo.

[Image description: Screenshot of lead characters Jenna and Matt from the film ‘13 Going on 30’]

I think this was one of the first real rom-coms I had seen when I was 10 years old in 2007, and it is still my favourite one. I seriously found him to be such a sweetheart in this movie. I mean he made her a f*cking Jenna dreamhouse!!! I am still waiting for the day someone makes me one (hint hint).

Everything about him from his passion for photography and kindness for his best friend really tugged on my heartstrings. I have literally rewatched this movie so many times and all the feelings come rushing back.

[Image description: Screenshot of lead characters Jenna and Matt from the film ‘13 Going on 30’]

Another mild obsession I had (which I now realise was a crush) was Trixie Tang in 2005 when I was 8, she was the most popular girl in school in the TV show Fairly OddParents and object of Timmy Turner’s and my desires. Proof? My first ever email account with Yahoo was ‘Trixietang2000’. Not my name, but Trixe’s!

She was funny, cool, rich, popular and half Asian (REPRESENT). I thought I wanted to be her, but now since coming out, I think something else was at play.

[Image description: Screenshot of cartoon character Trixie Tang in TV show ‘The FairlyOdd Parents’]

While we’re on cartoons, sexy Shego, one of the villians in Disney’s ‘Kim Possible’ was a bi awakening for many, including myself in 2006, when I was 9ish. ‘Kim Possible’ was a TV show about a cheerleader/ hero who fights baddies, Shego (below) was a recurring character who worked for Dr Drakken, Kim’s arch nemesis and there were always some epic fight scenes between her and Kim.

[Image description: Screenshot of cartoon character Shego in TV show ‘Kim Possible’]

While I definitely did have the hots for Troy Bolton played by Zac Efron in Disney’s High School Musical (2006), like every other young 8-year-old girl, I was heartwarmed by Zeke, who loved baking – creme brulee. I know this because I was genuinely jealous when he wanted to be with Sharpay, who did not appreciate him in my honest opinion.

[Image description: Screenshot of Troy singing the number ‘Bet On It’ in High School Musical. He is in the middle of a golf course, go figure]

[Image description: Screenshot of Zeke from High School Musical]

I loved the sweetness of Zeke, pardon the pun. Plus, who doesn’t love a guy who can bake?

My last and probably most significant childhood-adult crush was when I was 15 in 2012 and on Spiderman in the live-action films. Particularly, Andrew Garfield as Spiderman, but to this day, the concept of Peter Parker gets me a bit hot and bothered. I was reminded of this last Halloween, when I saw a cutie dancing on the dancefloor head to toe in a Spiderman suit. I can’t explain it, but it brought back some feelings I thought I’d left behind.

[Image description: Screenshot of Spiderman speaking into a megaphone]

Now I think of it, I remember doing an upside-down kiss once with an ex, with me sitting on the floor and him over the bed. So perhaps there is a kink in there somewhere?!

[Image description: Screenshot of the iconic ‘upside-down kiss’ from Spiderman]

Looking back at my crushes has been honestly super fun, but equally a little bit embarrassing to write about. I think of my younger self, secretly (or so I thought) yearning, probably very confused about what these desires meant. As I emerged from girlhood to adulthood, the fictional ones stopped, apart from Spiderman, duh, and the real-life ones continued. How lucky!

Dani x

About the Author

Dani Conlon is a community manager in the reproductive health and sexy space. She plans inclusive and fun events, creates and edits social media and also writes a newsletter called Kiss and Tell. Kiss and Tell started as a place to blab about her messy, silly, sexy dates, but is now also just a love letter to sex, life, friendship, and love.

Dani also runs an events company with her friend Caterina called Good Girls, and they put on events in London to raise money for charities that they love. From pub quizzes, to karaoke nights to writing workshops, supporting abortion charities, LGBTQ homeless and women and children in conflict, war and genocide. Community is everything!

Substack

Kiss & Tell

Writing about everything worth living for... sex, dating, love, friendship, travel, and everything worth fighting for: reproductive rights 💋

By Dani

Social Media

@kiss.andtellxo | @goodgirls.cic

Previous posts in the ‘Considering My Crushes’ series:

Ally Iseman, CRC, a modern relationship expert and founder of global platform Passport 2 Pleasure describes her crush on animated Disney character Aladdin as a kid, which then played out in the early 2000when she hooked-up with a EuroDisney actor who played Aladdin.

Founder of multi-award-winning anti-racist brand consultancy, Brand by Me, Collette Philip writes about her crush 80s British television star Matthew Kelly, pop superstar Michael Jackson and the cultural ubiquity of whiteness.

Podcaster and journalist Bethany Burgoyne writes about her early 00s crushes on cute actor Jeremy Sumpter in his role as Peter Pan and a whole host of fine young women from TV and film.

Writer and civil liberties expert Gracie Mae Bradley described her late nineties and early noughties rock star crushes Tom DeLonge from rock band Blink-182 and Less Than Jake band member Chris DeMakes.

Sex Educator Ruth Ramsay wrote about her 80s and 90s crushes that were sparked by seeing leather and bondage in pop and rock music video for bands like Duran Duran, Mötley Crüe and Eurythmics.

Sensuality Educator Oli Lipski (AKA ‘The Queer Sensualist’) wrote about her crushes, which included Anthony Kiedis, Hayley Williams, Sienna Miller, Blake Lively and Ed Westwick.

Almaz remember her adolescence and young womanhood where she crushed on anything and everything that had a pulse. During this era, she kept journals and scrapbooks where she’d write lengthy lists of crushes and also cut out pics and make poster collages. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.

Author Justin Myers (AKA ‘The Guyliner’) wrote about his crushes, Harry from school, Jake Gyllenhaal, Maxwell Caulfield, Jordan Knight, Will Smith and Jamie Dornan.

Author Peter Apps wrote a piece about his early crushes, Princess Jasmine, Blue Peter presenter Katy Hill, J-Lo and the character Cassie from the Animorph’s book series.

Author and multi-hyphenate and Karla Marie Sweet wrote an essay on her crushes on Aladdin, footballer Paul Ince, Spice Girl Mel C and lots of sexy actresses from film and TV.

Almaz described her early 00s crushes on Sirius Black and Kingsley Shacklebolt from Harry Potter; Harvey, Romeo and Asher D from So Solid Crew. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.

Almaz went back to the mid/late 90s, to her first crushes who were Peter Pan, Damon Albarn, Billy Kennedy, Ernst Robinson and US President Bill Clinton.

[Image description: Text ‘PRODUCED BY’]

I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.

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[Image description: Text ‘Kinfolk Network Summer 2025 Town Hall Podcast Episode’ on a lilac background]

Back in July 2025, I co-facilitated the Kinfolk Network Summer Town Hall. These online ‘Town Hall’ spaces bring together Black activists, organisers and people who are doing radical work in their communities.

After the Town Halls sessions take place, Kinfolk Network asks the co-facilitators to have a recorded conversation to reflect on the session, which are then released publicly as podcast episodes.

My episode is now live!

[Image description: A pink and purple podcast graphic featuring black ‘K’ logo in the top-left corner and a photo of Black folk seated around tables in a workshop setting. Text ‘Podcast Episode’ and ‘Creating Nourishing Spaces for Psychological Safety’]

Town Hall co-facilitators ‘A’ and Almaz candidly share what it takes to show up as your authentic self, centring their experiences as Black women. They discuss whether Black liberation is truly possible in the UK, the vital distinction between equity and equality, and practicing playfulness to stay joyful.

Sound edited and designed by Kayode Gomez.

This conversation was recorded in September 2025.

Listen on Spotify

Listen on Substack

The full transcript of this recording is via this link.

I’m available for Facilitation, Talks, Workshops and Events

[Image description: colourful collage made up of tiles showing Almaz’s past talks, panels, workshop and events facilitation]

I speak on stages, panels, podcasts and in classrooms about sex, relationships, desire, self-expression, identity, and cultural change. I create spaces where people feel informed, challenged, held, and inspired to explore themselves more deeply.

Watch my showreel highlighting the work I do within the intimacy pleasure, intimacy and sex ed sectors below.

FYI, International Women’s Day 2026 is just around the corner, so get in touch if your brand/organisation would like to book me 😃

Click for more info and to book

Anti-racism and DEI work

[Image description: colourful collage made up of tiles showing Almaz’s past talks, panels, workshop and events facilitation]

I help organisations build cultures that are equitable, emotionally intelligent, and future-focused. My work spans narrative strategy, behaviour-change content, internal comms, and allyship education, crafted for teams who want to go beyond lip service and create something real.

I’ve developed DEI storytelling, brand writing, and culture-shift frameworks for Pret, Arup, Greater Manchester Combined Authority, Wellcome, Greenpeace, and other organisations rooted in social impact.

If you need clarity, confidence, or culturally grounded language around race, identity, belonging or equity get in touch!

Send your brief!

[Image description: Text ‘PRODUCED BY’]

I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.
Visit my Work With Almaz page 😃

Follow me on Instagram | Visit my website

Book/Commission me!

Please do ‘like’ this post via the heart icon (❤️) that appears at the very top and bottom of this post, as it’s the best way to help others find my work.

If this project is something that you value, and want it to continue, readers are encouraged to upgrade to paid. With a paid subscription you’ll gain access to the content beyond the paywall and unrestricted access to the full archive of this newsletter.

Paid subscriptions are either billed monthly at £3.79 (less than a coffee ☕️) or annually at £34.99.

Upgrade to paid

If you would prefer to make a one-off donation, feel free to send a contribution via PayPal.

Support

You can also show your enjoyment without spending £££, by liking, commenting, restacking via Notes, or just generally sharing 😃

Share

If this project is something that you value, and want it to continue, readers are encouraged to upgrade to paid. With a paid subscription you’ll gain access to the content beyond the paywall and unrestricted access to the full archive of this newsletter.

Paid subscriptions are either billed monthly at £3.79 (less than a coffee ☕️) or annually at £34.99.

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If you would prefer to make a one-off donation, feel free to send a contribution via PayPal.

Support

You can also show your enjoyment without spending £££, by liking, commenting, restacking via Notes, or by just generally sharing 😃

[Image description: Text ‘Relationship Status Unfiltered No. 04’ on a lilac background]

‘Relationship Status: Unfiltered’ is bold, yet gentle interview series speaking to people across the spectrum of romantic and sexual experience, from high school sweethearts and solo polyamorists, to swingers, co-parents, serial monogamists and asexual folk. Each conversation follows the same of questions, revealing what people really think about love, commitment, dating and desire; from the inside of these relationships themselves.

These ‘Relationship Status: Unfiltered’ take place as informal chats over videocall, and I record the audio so that I can pull the responses together for the Q&A format below.

‘Ms. LMN’

Describe your current relationship status (be specific e.g. married for [x] years / co-habiting with partner(s) for [x] years / single and dating for [x] months).

‘Ms. LMN’: I’ve been married to my husband for 12 years, and we’ve been together for 18 years. We met at school in the sixth form, and we were actually friends for almost two years before we became a couple. So, I guess you could say we’re ‘childhood sweethearts’!

Are there any labels (e.g., monogamous, polyamorous, queer, traditional) you identify with in terms of relationships? How do you relate to those labels?

‘Ms. LMN’: So, we’ve never actively described ourselves with the use of a label, but we are monogamous. I suppose you could describe us as ‘traditional’ in the sense that we’re a monogamous, married, heterosexual couple. As I say, we’ve never really discussed labels. We just see ourselves as a couple, and we both agree that for us, specifically, that means only having a romantic and sexual relationship with each other. So, for us, monogamy is part of the definition of marriage. But we also respect that this isn’t the case for everyone.

What’s the story behind your current situation (e.g. please describe how you got together with your partner(s) / decided to open things up / start dating again after a big break-up)?

‘Ms. LMN’: We actually met many years ago at school, during sixth form. We were in the same year group but ran in completely different social circles, so we didn’t really connect at first. That changed when we were both cast in a school play. It was a comedy, and during rehearsals we just laughed constantly. After that, whenever we bumped into each other around school, we’d always stop and chat.

A few months later there was a bit of a turning point. I’d had a few drinks and got a little flirty, nothing too serious, just for fun, but it shifted something. I think we both suddenly realised there might be more there. We started seeing each other in the final months of school and very quickly became inseparable.

After finishing school, we both took gap years, travelling separately. I went away with a friend for four months, and he went volunteering, but we stayed together throughout. On either side of those travels, we spent almost all our time together. We went on to the same university, and he proposed during my final year.

From quite early on, we knew we wanted to spend our lives together, and for us that meant marriage. We talked about it within the first few years of our relationship. We lived together in our final year of university, then rented flats in and around London while saving for our wedding and our first house. We got married two years after graduating, and, many years later, here we are.

It does feel quite uncommon now. We’re the only people in our friendship groups who met that young and stayed together. There are a few couples we know who met in their early twenties and are still together, but when we meet new people, they often seem genuinely taken aback when we say how long we’ve been together. It feels like something quite special that belongs to us, and, if I’m honest, I think I get a bit of a kick out of telling people!

Have cultural, familial, or societal expectations shaped your relationship choices in any way? How?

‘Ms. LMN’: That’s a really interesting question. Because I met my husband so young, it’s sometimes hard to tell exactly how much cultural, familial, or societal expectations shaped my choices.

I know that I was initially drawn to his warmth. He made me laugh, and I felt very comfortable around him. That mattered a lot to me at the time, because I didn’t have much confidence, as I’d been bullied at my previous school. Feeling safe and at ease with someone was really important.

I’ve also noticed a pattern in who I’ve been attracted to. From a young age, I was always drawn to boys with darker features than my own, darker skin tones, dark hair, dark eyes. He very much fits that description. I’m very pale, freckly, blue-eyed, and I’ve always seemed to be attracted to people who look almost the opposite of me. I don’t know whether that stems from anything deeper or if it’s simply the way I am.

Personality-wise, though, we’re very similar. We both have quite a dark sense of humour, share many of the same interests, and struggle with similar things. We also both identify as neurodivergent. I think we were naturally drawn to each other because we could recognise ourselves in one another.

When I met him, I’d only ever been attracted to people of the opposite gender, and that attraction to boys felt very natural to me from the moment puberty hit. I do think that was influenced, at least in part, by my environment. Before I went to the school, where I met him, I actually attended a performing arts school where there were more openly queer people than you might find in other school settings. Because of that, I feel like if I had been drawn to other genders or different relationship structures, I probably would have recognised that fairly early on, as I was already moving in those circles.

That said, I do come from quite a traditional family. As I’ve got older, I’ve realised that I don’t necessarily agree with or support all of their views. Sometimes I wonder how they would have reacted if I’d gone down a less conventional route in my relationships or lifestyle.

I don’t know whether I consciously chose a more traditional path because of that, or whether it just happened naturally, and at this point, I’ll probably never know. But I like to think that if things had been different, I would have had the self-confidence and strength to stand my ground.

Looking back, are there patterns in how you typically form romantic and/or sexual relationships?

‘Ms. LMN’: I don’t think I’ve been in enough relationships to really know if there’s a pattern. I sometimes wonder if I’d had more time in the dating world what would have happened, and what kind of pattern might have emerged, but I don’t think I’m really able to offer much insight there.

The boyfriend I had before my husband was also someone I went to school with. We were at boarding school, so it was a very different dating setup to what most people experience, because we were living on the same premises. For us, ‘dates’ were really just going on walks around the school grounds, or sneaking into classrooms after hours to snog. During the school holidays, I went to his house once and we went to a rugby match together.

Other than that, I had a few brief things on holiday. Mostly it was just kissing boys at parties or under-18s nights, that kind of thing. And that was great fun.

After how long did your current relationship become sexual?

‘Ms. LMN: As I’ve said, we knew each other for nearly two years before we became a couple, but once we started seeing each other, things became sexual almost instantly. We were both inexperienced teenagers, full of hormones and wanting to try things out. I’d say we went from kissing to exploring lots of different things within the space of a week, maybe even a few days. We slept together after about two weeks, and in the run-up to that we’d basically done everything else.

I think we were both just a bit over-excited. Exploring someone else’s body for the first time is so good. And because we were at school together, especially boarding school, we spent a lot of time together. We saw each other every day. So even though it was a short period of time, it was a very intense period.

Boarding school was a very sexual environment. I don’t know whether the staff were aware and turned a blind eye, or whether they didn’t quite realise, but there were definitely known places that people would go. The geography classroom, for example—it was known that the teacher never locked the door, so you could always get in there at night or at the weekend. The school also had extensive grounds, so there were places you could sneak off to.

Pretty much all of my peers were doing things in a really, safe, consensual way, in the same way that a lot of people that age would have been doing it outside of school. We were 16 and upwards, and because we were living there, that was where we were.

How do your friends or family view your current relationship, and how does that affect you?

‘Ms. LMN: Some of our friends have commented that they see us as an inspiration, or as something they would like to have themselves. People have said they can see how clear it is that we’re meant to go down this path together, which is really lovely to hear. I think there are some friends who might be envying what we have. There are others who can’t really get their heads around how we’ve been together from so young, and who think they wouldn’t have liked not having so much freedom. They enjoyed having those younger years unpartnered.

I do sometimes think that we’re seen as a pair by some friends, rather than as individuals. Because we’ve been together for so long, a lot of our friends have only ever known us as an item. Because of that, I feel it’s really important for us to do things separately as well as together, and to maintain some separate friends, so we don’t lose ourselves. We are individuals, even though we are together.

Those closest to us know that we’ve tackled a lot as a couple like losing loved ones, infertility, a cancer diagnosis, and various other health conditions. Some people have commented that the fact we’ve been through all of that and are still together really shows our resilience. They’ve compared us to other couples they’ve known who went through similar things and didn’t last. So I think people do see us as very solid. But those closest to us also know it hasn’t all been smooth sailing, and that we have ups and downs like every other couple.

I think what our friends and family really see is that there’s a really deep-rooted friendship between us. More than anything else, that’s what’s kept us together, because we are best friends. I think in a relationship, some of the passion and lust is going to fade over the years, and if you don’t have that really close friendship connection underneath, that’s when you’re going to struggle.

At university, I did live with other people apart from my husband. In my first year, I was in halls, and in my second year I lived with friends I’d met at uni. Then we moved in together in third year, just the two of us. So I did have a brief experience of living with other young adults, which was nice and important. We always knew we wanted to live together at some point, probably quite early on, but at the same time we didn’t want to look back and feel like all our experiences had only ever been shared. We wanted to carve out our own friendship groups as well.

What does commitment mean to you in the context of your current relationship(s)?

‘Ms. LMN’: Commitment is another interesting one. For me, commitment means supporting each other and standing by each other in both the good times and the bad. It means not giving up on a relationship, as long as you still want to be in it and you’re both willing to put energy into it.

I think we’re committed to being each other’s best friends and being a space each other can go to. In the context of our own relationship, commitment also means monogamy. And I like to think that both of us would speak up if we were ever to have second thoughts.

How many significant relationships have you been in (if particular casual sexual arrangements were significant to you in some way, please do include those types of relationships here!)?

‘Ms. LMN: I’d say I’ve really only had one relationship, and that’s the one with my husband. I haven’t had other significant relationships beyond that.

Before him, I did have one high-school boyfriend. It was quite a superficial relationship. He was the captain of the rugby team, my friend set us up, and I thought he was absolutely gorgeous. But the conversation between us was really stilted. There was physical attraction there, at least on my part, which meant in the beginning it was exciting, because it felt quite full-on. But as time went on, we couldn’t really find any common ground.

I remember being absolutely devastated when we broke up. At the time, it felt like the end of the world. Looking back, I think that was mostly because I’d been dumped at sixteen or seventeen. I didn’t have the emotional intelligence then to realise that I didn’t actually want to be in the relationship. It only dawned on me afterwards how much more fun I was having on my own, how much more myself I felt, and how much more my personality was shining through.

I suppose that experience ended up being really significant, because when I chose my next partner, who went on to become my husband, it came from friendship first, and from laughing a lot. As I’ve said, that’s really what’s seen us through.

Other than that, my experiences were very limited. It was mostly snogging lots of boys at parties, going to under-eighteens nights, and the occasional fumble.

Previous posts in the ‘Relationship Status: Unfiltered’ series:

‘Ms. ABC’ is 36 and came out of a relationship a couple of months ago. She’s been using the dating app Hinge to get some dates but is bored of the whole process:

I share some more content from the interview with ‘Ms. ABX’ as verbatim audio clips and more transcript text where he answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’. ‘Ms. ABC’ has lived and dated in both Manchester and London, and notes differences in how people date in the North versus the South. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

‘Mr. EFG’ is a 45-year-old married man who’s has been with his husband for 17 years in total and married for seven:

I share some more content from the interview with ‘Mr. EFG’ as verbatim audio clips and more transcript text where he answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’. ‘Mr. EFG’ and I talk aboutand I talk about his fetish for lads in sportswear, which was influenced by the film Flash Gordon. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

‘Mr. XYZ’ revealed how the impact of media portrayals, particularly romcoms and lads mags influenced how he saw the cultural expectations of being in a relationship as an adolescent. We also chatted about the role of labels and the balance between personal freedom and relationship stability:

I share some more content from the interview with ‘Mr. XYZ’ as verbatim audio clips and more transcript text where he answers the question: ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’. ‘Mr. XYZ’ and I talk about the influence of romcom tropes on how he views relationships. We also touch on how the current ubiquity of smartphones means that people look at their screens while on the street, rather than looking around them, or at other people. Paywalled: To gain access to this post upgrade to paid:

[Image description: Text ‘POSTSCRIPT’]

The ‘POSTSCRIPT’ segment for paid subscribers will drop on Wednesday 4 February and will feature extra verbatim text and an audio extract where ‘Ms. LMN’ answers the final question, ‘Anything else that you’d like to add, please do share!’ and

To receive this extra mailout you’ll need to upgrade to a paid subscription, which is either billed monthly at £3.79, or annually at £34.99.

Upgrade to paid

[Image description: Text ‘PRODUCED BY’]

I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.

Visit my Work With Almaz page 😃

Watch my showreel highlighting the work I’ve been doing within the intimacy pleasure, intimacy and sex ed sectors.

Follow me on Instagram | Visit my website

Book/Commission me!

Please do ‘like’ this post via the heart icon (❤️) that appears at the very top and bottom of this post, as it’s the best way to help others find my work.

If this project is something that you value, and want it to continue, readers are encouraged to upgrade to paid. With a paid subscription you’ll gain access to the content beyond the paywall and unrestricted access to the full archive of this newsletter.

Paid subscriptions are either billed monthly at £3.79 (less than a coffee ☕️) or annually at £34.99.

Upgrade to paid

If you would prefer to make a one-off donation, feel free to send a contribution via PayPal.

Support

You can also show your enjoyment without spending £££, by liking, commenting, restacking via Notes, or by just generally sharing 😃

If this project is something that you value, and want it to continue, readers are encouraged to upgrade to paid. With a paid subscription you’ll gain access to the content beyond the paywall and unrestricted access to the full archive of this newsletter.

Paid subscriptions are either billed monthly at £3.79 (less than a coffee ☕️) or annually at £34.99.

Upgrade to paid

If you would prefer to make a one-off donation, feel free to send a contribution via PayPal.

Support

You can also show your enjoyment without spending £££, by liking, commenting, restacking via Notes, or by just generally sharing 😃

Share

[Image description: Text ‘Considering My Crushes Guest Post’ on a lilac background]

This guest post series is a space where writers in my community think about their crushes on celebs, fictional characters, or, indeed, our next-door neighbour, weaving cultural critique with personal longing. It’s a space where obsession, admiration, and projection are all welcome.

This piece is about the animated Disney film Aladdin and a EuroDisney actor who played Aladdin in the early 2000s.

‘Considering My Crushes’ by Ally Iseman, CRC relationship expert and founder of the relationship platform Passport2Pleasure. Ally also writes the Substack ‘Passport2Pleasure’

“Do you trust me?”

Eight-year-old me would be so proud right now! I thought to myself as his lips made their way down towards my ‘Cave of Wonders.’ Magic carpet ride indeed!

Those lips were attached to a whole face and that face belonged to a young Frenchman I had connected with whilst studying abroad in London by way of my alma mater in Philadelphia. My university group had gone to Paris for a week on a class project, and I made the most of it. If you’ve never had a native Parisian whisper sweet French nothings in your ear, you haven’t lived.

As if this bronzed strapping young lad whispering je ne sais quoi into my ears wasn’t enough on its own, I learned mid makeout that he was an actor. A working actor. Specifically: at EuroDisney. And even more specifically: he played Aladdin.

Rewind to eight-year-old me in 1992.

Disney’s Aladdin was lighting up movie screens worldwide and introducing young things like me to their hormones faster than you can say I’m a genie in a bottle, baby. That movie rubbed me the right way.

The title character’s scamp charm and street rat resourcefulness immediately drew my attention. But it wasn’t until I watched Aladdin set eyes on his love interest, Princess Jasmine, that I knew what that movie was really about.

Not only were her threads lit but she had a tiger. The way she stroked Raja’s luxurious fur coat made me wish I had some soft stripes of my own she could absentmindedly run her fingers through.

It made sense to feel all these things for her because that’s what Aladdin was feeling, and that’s who I had a crush on… Because he was a boy and I was a girl and that’s how things worked, right?

I spent the first 30 years of my life masquerading as a straight monogamous woman. I remember the exact moment I closeted my desires, when I shut down the part of me that turned to bubbles when I liked a girl. I perfected the art of ‘friend-zoning’ myself – befriending the girls I wanted to kiss in order to become a socially safe person for them to spend time with. It was only after coming out later in life – as bisexual and sapiosexual, and later on, polyamorous – that I realised what was really going on.

My longing for the character of Aladdin – which became fully satiated atop a futon in a tiny flat outside Paris in the winter of 2004 – had been a mask all along. Not only a mask for my desire for Jasmine and her regal pussy, but for the ‘symbiosexuality’ that had lain dormant within me.

I was drawn to the animated character Aladdin, yes. I desired Jasmine, duh. But it was the rampant joy, unquestioning acceptance, and unabashed adventure of their relationship that I wanted in on. I was drawn to their relationship dynamic. I wanted to be the halal meat in that sandwich. The shawarma in their wrap?

If I couldn’t get myself a ticket to hop on that magic carpet ride with both of them, I sure as shit was going to put on a fur coat and become her purrfect BFF!

The only way society seemed to allow my initial exploration into my own bisexuality was as a performance for the male gaze, which began – as it does for so many – a 4-hour drive away from my hometown, in college.

And so it was on that fateful evening, in a poorly lit living room outside La Ville Lumière, after a few petites morts, I expected to live out my childhood fantasy. But what was supposed to be the culmination of a childhood wet dream, instead left me wanting more.

I never forgot how it was Aladdin’s true nature that won Jasmine’s heart. If I was going to be worthy of the likes of the Princess, let alone a part of something I didn’t even know the word for yet (pro tip: it can be called a ‘throuple’ or a polycule), it was embodying her fierce independence and stubborn self-awareness that would lead me through.

The power of my own hard-won self-knowledge as an adult caused me to reflect on my childhood crush and see it for what it really was. My encounter with the IRL Aladdin unveiled the true reasons why I had originally been drawn to the Aladdin-Jasmin dynamic in the first place. I decided it was time to let my genie out of the bottle.

Cut to 20 years – and lots of mistakes – after that fateful night on le futon, and I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing all manner of what I call “expansive love.” Love as acceptance and freedom, where more is more, and the feeling becomes a noun, an adjective, and a verb – never a finite resource.

I’ve had the pleasure of choosing to be what’s known in the swinger world as a “unicorn” for both hetero-leaning and queer couples. I’ve been a part of my own multi-partner relationship, known as a polycule or triad. I’ve been one half of a couple that enjoys deep and emotionally resonant connections with others, partnered or not. And I’ve spent 10 years attending and hosting events that create safer spaces for everyone to let their own genies out to play.

A magical world where a street rat and a princess can burn the scripts they were given and build love on their own terms inspired me to question whether or not the scripts I had been given were truly serving me.

I’m now living my most authentic love life and it truly is the most magic of carpet rides. Don’t believe me? I dare you to learn more and check out my Substack… Do you trust me?

[Image description: Aladdin from the Disney animation reaches his arm out in the famous ‘Do you trust me?’ pose]

About the Author

Ally Iseman, CRC, is a modern relationship expert and the founder of the global platform Passport 2 Pleasure, your portal to building the love life of your dreams, not someone else’s. A featured expert on over 40 podcasts and in publications like The New York Times, Cosmopolitan, POPSUGAR, Grazia, AskMen, Well+Good, and more, she provides private coaching for select clients around the world, brand consulting, and online courses and resources for curious couples and individuals who want to open up without breaking up. Subscribe to her Substack where curious individuals, couples, and moresomes come to write their own Happily Ever After and follow her @allyiseman and @passport2pleasure as she continues her mission to “fuck around the world and find out.”

Website and Socials

Passport 2 Pleasure

Love isn't all you need and one-size-fits-all relationships rarely do. Learn to build the love life of your dreams, not someone else's.

By Ally | Open Relationship Coach

www.passport2pleasure.com | @passport2pleasure | @allyiseman

[Image description: promotional image for Ally’s relationship platform. Text: ‘Are you ready to open up without blowing up? PASSPORT2PLEASURE.COM. Headshot of Ally, who’s wearing bright scarlet lipstick]

Previous posts in the ‘Considering My Crushes’ series:

Founder of multi-award-winning anti-racist brand consultancy, Brand by Me, Collette Philip writes about her crush 80s British television star Matthew Kelly, pop superstar Michael Jackson and the cultural ubiquity of whiteness.

Podcaster and journalist Bethany Burgoyne writes about her early 00s crushes on cute actor Jeremy Sumpter in his role as Peter Pan and a whole host of fine young women from TV and film.

Writer and civil liberties expert Gracie Mae Bradley described her late nineties and early noughties rock star crushes Tom DeLonge from rock band Blink-182 and Less Than Jake band member Chris DeMakes.

Sex Educator Ruth Ramsay wrote about her 80s and 90s crushes that were sparked by seeing leather and bondage in pop and rock music video for bands like Duran Duran, Mötley Crüe and Eurythmics.

Sensuality Educator Oli Lipski (AKA ‘The Queer Sensualist’) wrote about her crushes, which included Anthony Kiedis, Hayley Williams, Sienna Miller, Blake Lively and Ed Westwick.

Almaz remember her adolescence and young womanhood where she crushed on anything and everything that had a pulse. During this era, she kept journals and scrapbooks where she’d write lengthy lists of crushes and also cut out pics and make poster collages. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.

Author Justin Myers (AKA ‘The Guyliner’) wrote about his crushes, Harry from school, Jake Gyllenhaal, Maxwell Caulfield, Jordan Knight, Will Smith and Jamie Dornan.

Author Peter Apps wrote a piece about his early crushes, Princess Jasmine, Blue Peter presenter Katy Hill, J-Lo and the character Cassie from the Animorph’s book series.

Author and multi-hyphenate and Karla Marie Sweet wrote an essay on her crushes on Aladdin, footballer Paul Ince, Spice Girl Mel C and lots of sexy actresses from film and TV.

Almaz described her early 00s crushes on Sirius Black and Kingsley Shacklebolt from Harry Potter; Harvey, Romeo and Asher D from So Solid Crew. Partially paywalled. To read in full, upgrade to paid.

Almaz went back to the mid/late 90s, to her first crushes who were Peter Pan, Damon Albarn, Billy Kennedy, Ernst Robinson and US President Bill Clinton.

[Image description: Text ‘PRODUCED BY’]

I’m Almaz Ohene, a Creative Copywriter, Freelance Journalist and Accidental Sexpert.

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