As I started to realize how much shame I carried about my sexuality, I also saw how I had quietly rejected parts of myself — my femininity, my romantic attraction, my charm. So instead of avoiding that fear, I decided to lean into it. I decided to learn how to flirt.
I even recruited a friend to be my “flirting teacher,” and she gave me a few simple steps:
Be curious and match the other person’s energy
Notice what lights people up and talk about that
When it’s your turn to speak, add a light, gentle touch
Hold eye contact and allow pauses
I watched a few TED Talks, and oddly enough, they all said the same thing: be curious and give genuine compliments. And I was like, “Bruh… I do that EVERYDAY. Why am I not a flirty person?”
So I started my flirting homework. My rule was: flirt with strangers, but doesn’t have to have any romantic agenda. Just playful sensuality. Light, warm, human. (Very French energy.)
Then I approached my first stranger… and immediately got carried away. We ended up building a snowman together.
Second stranger? Also got carried away. I was way more interested in practicing Spanish with them than flirting.
Third stranger? Completely derailed again — their baby was so cute that I spent the entire time talking about the baby.
The funniest part is that I went to the bathroom, suddenly remembered, “Oh right, I’m supposed to be flirting,” then rushed back out just to give them a compliment.
And somehow, I forgot that I was supposed to initiate touch, but they touched my shoulder instead.
I was irrationally annoyed. My flirting practice had somehow turned into other people flirting with me, when I was the one who was supposed to be practicing!
But Esther did not give up.
She went to another event and decided to embody her most confident, playful, dominant energy. She made eye contact with a stranger, incubated the courage for ten full minutes, and finally said:
“I want to be in the same group conversation as you. I found your eyes interesting.”
They smiled, clearly flattered, and replied, “I feel happy hearing that, but I’m afraid I might end up disappointing you. You might get bored of me.”
I laughed and said, “Then why don’t you start by telling me the most boring thing about yourself?”
That moment felt playful and kind at the same time. At the end of the conversation, they said they wanted to make out with me, and I happily went home and went to sleep.
Mission accomplished.
(No make-out because the goal was learning and practicing.)
Here’s what I’ve learned about flirting so far:
I’m not comfortable initiating touch. It feels like humans have a natural respectful distance, and crossing it can feel aggressive to me. Ironically, when someone lightly touches me, I feel more connected.
Pauses and steady eye contact during conversations make me feel seen and deeply connected, even with strangers. It doesn’t have to be romantic.
I find flirting requires me to be in extremely confident, powerful, and dominant state. But that’s not my natural state. My default state is more like a wholesome, joyful little kid. Now I’m wondering how to lean into a playful, powerful femininity that still feels authentic to me.
I still have so much to learn. But my friend reminded me of something gentle and true:
Growth whispers. It doesn’t scream.