How does a dating app like Feeld fit into your day-to-day life? We’re taking a closer look at how real people from our community use Feeld over the course of one week—whether that’s back-to-back dates, verbal foreplay, or a reflective time on one’s own. Welcome to a 50-year-old, straight female’s week on Feeld...
Monday
As a straight, longtime single, white woman who recently celebrated her fiftieth birthday, I have tried most mainstream online dating apps with varying degrees of success. I have been catfished, ghosted, stalked, and insulted. I have also made some great friends and have fallen into unrequited love several times. Having been in a resting and healing state for many months, partly due to perimenopause, I was unsure if I wanted to risk my heart in a monogamous relationship again. After watching Dying for Sex, a TV series inspired by true events, where the main character leaves her monogamous relationship following a cancer diagnosis to go on a journey of sexual exploration, I realized there is more than one way to connect with people. I learned about the Feeld app from Davina McCall's podcast Begin Again, and because Feeld sounded like a place to explicitly explore desire, I thought it could be the place to start. So, with great apprehension and a surge in my blood pressure, I set up a profile, hid my phone from sight, and waited.
Tuesday
After finding the courage to finally scroll the app, my first eyebrow raise came from the number of younger men that had liked my profile. About 30% of them were under the age of 35. What is it they find alluring about the thought of being with a 50-year-old? Do they think I am rich, and imagine I’ll take care of them? Do they think I am experienced and can show them a few tricks? Or is it simply that they think I would be grateful for the attention, and therefore more likely to say yes to a date? I wondered.
Wednesday
I paused on a handsome man in his mid-fifties—a more familiar option than the much younger men—with a lovely profile describing himself and what he was hoping to find in a partner. A sapiophile at heart, I enjoyed our long exchange of messages. I soon discovered he was only interested in monogamy, which, considering we had met on this site, made me chuckle. The dealbreaker came when I disclosed I have a younger child, which doesn’t fit into the lifestyle he envisioned with his future partner—a misalignment, but a decision I respect. We parted amicably, which was a refreshing change from being ghosted or blocked.
Thursday
I woke up feeling that the only way I would really explore what the app was all about was to embrace it, fully. So, before my brain could talk my fingers out of it, I matched with three men who quite frankly made my heart rate spike more than it ever has in a Zumba class: a male Dom, a tantric sex practitioner, and a man who designs play sessions around an individual’s wants and desires—all, I realize, offer a chance for exploration with a certain safe separation from my heart.
First to reply—the Dom. When I’m explaining my nerves (leaving out the part that thinking about him had almost caused me to scorch the top I was ironing) he is kind and asks about my concerns. I reveal I am nervous that I might like what he is offering; nervous at the thought of surrendering to someone, when I am a single parent who runs her own business and makes all of her own decisions; and nervous about talking to a complete stranger about such things. He says this tells him I am awake, and divulges his own nerves when he senses something real in someone, something that might matter.
He lets me know more about his life and explains he only takes an interest in women brave enough to explore who they are beneath the surface. He is curious as to who I am when the mask is off, when I stop being polite, pleasing, or perfect—the woman who aches to let go but still hesitates on the edge. All good questions, which I take time to answer truthfully. We discuss being present, knowing who you are at every moment, and craving something you don’t yet know how to reach for.
In his words, surrender can only happen when trust is built through training in obedience, consistency, and honesty. He explains he wouldn’t push my limits but stretch them gently and deliberately and that the training goes both ways—he would learn from my reactions, silences, and what excites me. He says that submission isn’t only about the bedroom—that’s where it culminates. A fully trained submissive thrives in obedience and finds freedom in structure. He would lead our journey, all he asks for is honesty, and communication is non-negotiable. Silence can become distance and distance erodes trust.
He tells me he has lost someone by leading her before she was ready, held space for someone who didn’t want to grow, and that each encounter has helped sharpen and strengthen what he offers. I asked if he ever surrendered control. His reply—yes, but only in a strategic sense to women who earn it. It’s his gift to them. He tells me to call him “Sir,” and though I understand what he says about it marking a beginning between us, I wonder how easily the word will roll off my tongue.
When he says he wants to learn about my world, I hesitate. Questions, like do I live alone and how do I spend my time, make me aware that I am indeed talking to a stranger and it makes me wonder if I will be able to step toward the surrender he describes. We talk all night, slowly getting to know each other, and I catch glimpses of the man behind the wall. It is 2am before he allows me to end the conversation, and I thank him for his time. “Thank you, Sir,” he instructs. But it is an instruction I am not quite ready to take.
Friday
After a night of disrupted sleep, I am uncertain how I feel. Did I get swept up in a potential D/s dynamic, or is it something I truly crave? Am I more attracted to the thought of mild domination in the bedroom rather than a lifestyle choice? No decision has been made.
The tantric practitioner has reached out with a wonderful opening message about deep connection and intimacy becoming possible when skin on skin contact can drown out thought. I tell him I love his way with words and believe a mental connection is as important as a physical one. He puts it far more eloquently, saying he finds it incredibly alluring when a woman is seduced by language, and the dance of the minds.
We chat about being new to the site and he offers to stumble side by side until we move in sync. He tells me tantric practice is a core aspect of his life—that it takes time to cultivate but once there, the release and connection can be unlike anything. There are many forms of tantra, he explains. Sexual pleasure is only part of the journey and the goal isn’t strictly orgasm. For him, it is about creating a deeper connection, an awakened sensuality, and a heightened state of awareness between two people.
He says when you truly start to feel your thoughts, to surrender to the present moment, a kind of magic happens—something slow, powerful, and undeniably erotic. He asks me to imagine the two of us on the floor, facing each other, eyes locked, our breath steady. The soft press of skin against skin, every touch charged with anticipation, the space between us thick with desire and the delicious uncertainty of what comes next. We discuss how anticipation is often at the heart of mental stimulation and how it can trigger deep, sometimes unexplainable physical responses.
We bond over health, wellness, and meditation, discuss books we are reading, and agree that having our own space is also important. He gives me his number so we can continue the conversation. I pause. Am I ready for this?
Saturday
Roleplay man is interested in designing sessions for women who are looking to let go while exploring power dynamics. Having never ventured into the world of roleplay before, but with a very active imagination, this idea intrigues me. He takes me through the process of how he designs sessions: it begins with a few phone conversations so we can get to know each other, and he can gain an understanding of what I would like to achieve. We would then have several coffee dates (never alcohol) to see if we click, and only when I feel comfortable would we be together in a room alone. This first time, there would be no sex. We would kiss and hug and although he would stay fully clothed, he would undress and massage me, so I get a sense of his touch and movement. This would all build to the play session, which we will by then have discussed at length. He also explains the importance of aftercare—looking after each other with cuddles, kissing, bathing, and talking about the experience afterward.
I ask where his own enjoyment comes from, and he explains that he loves the teasing that starts now; the slow build is almost as intoxicating as the session itself. During the actual session, he loves the feeling of being in control and giving pleasure. I tell him I am a little overwhelmed by it all as I have led a fairly vanilla life up to now, and he reassures me that whatever we decide to do would be unique to us, and that there is no ceiling to reach to be part of the scene. Once again, he stresses the importance of communication and is very kind and thorough when answering my questions. He leaves me to think about whether I’d like to take the next step.
Sunday
I wake feeling a little exhausted. When I started the week, I had no idea it would result in a debate between whether I’d prefer tantra to being tied up, or if I should try conjuring up my inner Mrs Robinson from The Graduate. What’s clear is that I have learned a lot about myself, and that some of the desires that I had forgotten or repressed have been gently stirred. I have thoroughly enjoyed each and every one of my conversations and am honored to have been given the opportunity to peek into the lives of these men. Are any of their worlds for me? I’m unsure. I might need another week on the app to find out.
