Over the past few months I’ve been on my fair share of first dates. Some have been extremely fun, while others, well…let’s just say dude didn’t warrant a call back. At any rate, after the dinner has been eaten, drinks have been drained, dessert shared, and jokes finished, it all boils down to the end of the date. That awkward point where he walks you to your car or your door and you try to prepare yourself for what may be coming next…
Unlike some women, I don’t have a hard and fast rule about kissing on the first date. I’ve had some dates where I’ve deliciously made out with my companion, and others where we said goodnight by way of an awkward will-we-won’t-we hug. For me, it just depends. And despite my feminist leanings, I typically defer to the man.
Call it letting a man be a man or just straight up insecurity, but I’ve never initiated a first date kiss. Sure I try to give off signs—staring at his lips and smiling, waiting a bit longer at my door, brushing my hand across his face—but I’ve never leaned in to kiss a dude first. Never.