From Singapore to the World: A Journey of Lesbian Love Across The Globe

Chapter 9: Juliette - A Beautiful Disappointment

We matched on Tinder, and I flew to Seoul to meet her. Juliette, French who is based in Seoul, beautiful, and just a little out of my league, which only made me want her more. We had been texting for about a week, the anticipation building, and agreed our first date would be in my hotel room. It wasn't the typical first date plan, but we both knew what this was, or at least I thought I did.

She was supposed to arrive at 6 PM. When she showed up an hour late, my heart was already thumping, and my nerves were on edge. The lift doors opened, and there she was. I knew it was her the moment I saw her, even before she looked my way. The way her eyes flicked over me, up and down, sizing me up before giving me a seductive little smile, it hooked me instantly. I couldn't stop grinning, despite my exhaustion from days of travel with barely any sleep.

"She's a little bigger than me," I thought, "but she's beautiful."

"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual.

"Hey," she replied, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Without much thought, I took her hand, intertwining our fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world. We headed straight to my room, hands still linked, neither of us saying much. Once inside, she dropped her bag, and it didn't take long before we were kissing. It felt urgent, like we'd both been waiting for this, but there wasn't much conversation beyond that.

I pushed her onto the bed, my mouth moving to her nipples, feeling the heat of the moment. But after a while, I pulled away and asked, "Should I keep going, or should we get dinner?" I was starving after all.

She shrugged. "I'm not hungry," she said.

But I insisted. "Let's get some food. We've got the whole night." So, we got dressed, and I led her out into the snowy Seoul evening. It felt like the snow was falling just for us, like it was a sign of something good.

"You know, I think this snow is a good omen," I said, squeezing her hand as we walked.

"Was it?" she replied, her voice soft, her eyes on me.

"Yeah," I said, smiling.

We found a K-BBQ restaurant, and over sizzling meat, we laid our cards on the table. I told her what I was looking for in a partner, and she did the same. There was something about her openness that pulled me in, even when we didn't agree. She wasn't happy that I wasn't "out" to my family. She said she couldn't date someone who wasn't open about who they were. I didn't know what to say, but I told her I would introduce her to my family. "I've never introduced anyone before, not even guys." That seemed to calm her.

She shared her dreams—having a child, adopting another, living in a house with her mom nearby to help raise them. Her vision of the future was crystal clear, and though part of me respected that, I also knew deep down it didn't quite align with mine. The idea of adopting, the financial cost of two kids, and living close to her mom in France—those weren't things I saw for myself. But I didn't voice it. I kept quiet, not wanting to spoil the mood.

After dinner, we returned to the hotel. I was excited for the night, but it didn't take long before I was disappointed. She was a complete pillow princess. There was zero reciprocity. I was doing all the work, and my arms ached from the effort. There was no passion, no fire, just me going through the motions while she lay there, passive. I couldn't help but think about how different it was with others before her.

Trying to salvage the night, I asked, "Do you want to play a game?"

I asked Juliette if she had ever played the *36 Questions to Fall in Love*. She gave me a curious look and asked, "What's that?" I pulled out my phone, found the questions, and suggested we give it a try. It felt like an intimate way to deepen our connection, to explore each other's thoughts and pasts beyond the surface level.