I went on First Dates looking for a wife. Two years later, I’m returning as a gay man (EXCLUSIVE)

When I first walked into the First Dates restaurant in 2024, I was 24, had never been on a date and was looking for a wife. Fast forward two years and I’m walking back into the same restaurant to date a man. I don’t think that’s quite how I imagined things going!

But that’s life. Sometimes the story you think you’re living turns out to be quite different from the one you’re actually meant to tell.

When you’re growing up, you just want to fit in. You want to make friends

Growing up, I was always conscious of being a little different. I’m autistic, have dyslexia and dyspraxia and have had a stammer since childhood. I didn’t start speaking until I was around four or five, used Makaton and spent years having speech therapy. I think those experiences shaped how I saw myself and how I approached other people.

When you’re growing up, you just want to fit in. You want to make friends, feel comfortable and have the same experiences as everyone else. There were times when I worried about how I communicated, how people perceived me and whether I was coming across in the way I wanted to. Sometimes you can spend so much time thinking about what other people might think that you forget to enjoy the moment yourself.

A big turning point was starting Stammer Stories in 2021. What began as an idea in my bedroom has grown into something I could never have imagined. I’ve shared more than 70 stories, reached people around the world, appeared on BBC Breakfast and delivered a TEDx talk.

I’m incredibly proud of it, but what matters most are the people behind the stories. I wanted to create something I wish I’d had growing up: a place where people could see themselves represented and realise that having a stammer doesn’t mean having to put limits on your life.

For years, I’d dated women and assumed perhaps I hadn’t met the right person

It’s also changed my own relationship with confidence. I’ve learnt that I don’t need to be the most confident person in the room or communicate in a particular way to have something worth saying.

While I was becoming more comfortable with myself in one part of my life, there was another I was still trying to understand.

I came out at 27.

For years, I’d dated women and assumed perhaps I hadn’t met the right person. I saw friends and siblings getting into relationships and thought that was simply what life was supposed to look like for me. I couldn’t really explain why something didn’t feel quite right.

Then, through meeting different people and becoming particularly close to one of my gay friends, something clicked. My brain was going at about a million miles an hour! I was experiencing feelings I’d never really allowed myself to explore and suddenly things started making sense.

Once I accepted what I was feeling, I didn’t want to fight it anymore. Coming out was emotional, but it was also an enormous relief. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

I’d spent much of my life navigating the world feeling different

I’m not really one for big sit-down conversations, so I mostly just dropped it into conversation. Some people probably weren’t expecting that announcement!

Everyone around me has been incredibly supportive and I’m very grateful. I also think it’s important to talk about coming out at 27. There’s an assumption that everyone should know who they are from a young age, but that’s not everyone’s experience. I didn’t get there on somebody else’s timetable and that’s absolutely fine.

Something I hadn’t fully considered was what entering the LGBTQ+ community would feel like as a neurodivergent person.

I’d spent much of my life navigating the world feeling different and suddenly I was entering another part of my identity where I was having to be vulnerable again. I wondered whether I’d feel comfortable, whether people would understand me and whether I’d have to explain another part of myself.

What I hadn’t expected was how many neurodivergent people I’d meet within the LGBTQ+ community. There’s something quite comforting about connecting with people who understand different ways of thinking, communicating and experiencing the world.

And that brings me back to First Dates

Both experiences can come with questions around acceptance, judgement and belonging, although everyone’s journey is different. I think I’d spent so much time trying to work out where I fitted in that I hadn’t really considered how important it would be to find people around whom I didn’t have to think about that.

I didn’t want to spend my life finding one place where I could be accepted for being neurodivergent and another where I could be accepted for being gay. I wanted to be able to turn up as all of me.

And that brings me back to First Dates.

The first time I appeared, I’d never been on a date. I was nervous, conscious of my stammer and had no idea what to expect. This time, I was returning with a completely different outlook. I’d been on more dates, come out and become much more comfortable with myself.

Having a first date on television is still terrifying

I also hadn’t really told the world I’d come out, so for people who remembered my first appearance, this was going to be quite a different introduction!

Having a first date on television is still terrifying. You’re wondering who’s going to walk through the door, whether you’ll get along and whether you’ll actually have anything to talk about. But once you’re sitting at the table, you almost forget the cameras are there.

I had a genuinely lovely time with my date. We got along, had a laugh and I have the utmost respect for him. The romantic spark wasn’t quite there, but we’ve stayed in touch and are still friends. Not every date needs to end in a relationship announcement and a shared mortgage!

I think the biggest difference now is that I’m no longer approaching dating wondering whether someone will accept me. I’m just as interested in finding out whether I like them. I want someone who makes me laugh, who I can be myself around and who doesn’t make me feel I need to change anything about myself.

My first date was at 24. I came out at 27

I still overthink things. Sometimes my brain has already had about five different conversations before I’ve even sent a message. But I’ve become much better at not letting those thoughts make decisions for me.

I still find it surreal when people recognise me from First Dates. You can be out in a bar or club and suddenly someone shouts, “OMG, YOU WERE ON FIRST DATES!”

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, but I absolutely love it.

Looking back, I think the biggest thing I’ve learnt is that you don’t have to experience life in a particular order.

My first date was at 24. I came out at 27. I’ve built something I’m incredibly proud of, met some amazing people and discovered parts of myself I hadn’t fully understood before.

I’m not trying to fit into somebody else’s idea of what my life should look like

For years, I thought I was falling behind because I hadn’t reached the same milestones as everyone else. I don’t think like that anymore.

I’m not trying to catch up with anybody. I’m not trying to fit into somebody else’s idea of what my life should look like.

I’m just getting on with being me. And this time, I’m quite happy with that.