I moved to another continent, finally got the freedom to be open about my sexuality, and discovered that finding a man for one night could still feel exhausting. I’m 26. I’m not looking for a boyfriend right now. I’m trying to find someone I want to have sex with who will make a little effort too.
I grew up in a religious environment. Being somewhere else has given me room to be bisexual openly and explore a part of my life that used to feel restricted. That freedom matters to me. I wanted the chance to find out what I enjoy without having to squeeze myself back into the expectations I grew up around.
But I also moved into a demanding master’s program, which I’m doing in my third language. Studying takes time and concentration. A relationship would ask for a kind of emotional availability I don’t have at the moment, and I’ve been clear about that. I’m not hoping a casual arrangement will secretly become something serious. I’m saying what I actually have room for.
My desire hasn’t arranged itself around the academic calendar. I can be absorbed in my studies and still want sex. The difficulty starts when I try to turn that wish into an encounter with a man.
Lately, it feels as though the men I’ve tried to connect with want everything done for them. That’s my experience of these attempts, not a verdict on every man. But the lack of effort is wearing me out. I can be direct. I can say what I want. Being assertive doesn’t mean I want to supply all the interest and initiative for two people.
A one-night encounter is a small commitment, but there are still two people involved. I want the attraction to feel mutual before anything happens. I don’t need a relationship’s promises; I do need some sign that the man is taking part in making this happen. Otherwise, the thing I’m pursuing for pleasure starts feeling like another demand on an already crowded life.
I’m also trying to meet women. That part feels different because I’m only now able to be openly bisexual, and I get shy. Knowing I’m attracted to women doesn’t make approaching them suddenly effortless. I can be clear about wanting casual sex and still feel unsure when I’m exploring something I haven’t had the same freedom to explore before.
So here I am, with more freedom than I had growing up, less spare time than I might like, and a desire that hasn’t disappeared just because I’m busy. I’m still trying to find a man for a night that both of us actually want to make happen. And no, saying that out loud is not an invitation for strangers to fill my inbox.
