‘You’re a bit toxic, aren’t you?’ said Sam*, a man who had been slow-ghosting – gradually reducing the cadence of his replies – me over the two weeks since we’d had our first date.
I scoffed at the sheer hypocrisy as I glared at my phone, but I couldn’t help but smirk with satisfaction. His message confirmed my very real suspicion that men don’t like being played at their own game.
I met Sam on Hinge, initially drawn to his dry British humour, which can often feel lacking in my home town of Sydney. For our first date, we went for some sunset drinks at our local waterside pub. It was endearing <...


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