There’s more to a companion than what fits onto a homepage or into a witty post on X.
Most of what I’m interested in lives slightly beneath the surface, at the knotty intersection of psychology and pleasure where I love to spend time. So, consider this a deep dive into the questions I wish people asked more often, and a few I’ve been mulling over myself. Pour yourself a cuppa (or something stronger, I certainly don’t judge) and settle in.
How has your psychology training changed the way you approach a date?
It’s made me endlessly curious about the person sitting across from me, and more attentive to the space between words. I notice the things you don’t say as much as those you do. The way someone talks about their work, where they hesitate, what lights them up…these are clues to what they need. What they’re craving.
More than anything, it’s reinforced that genuine connection requires presence. I’ve become less interested in ‘reading’ people and more interested in meeting them where they are.
How do you know when someone is ready to explore something new?
Questions become less theoretical and more curious. There’s a shift from, for example, “Do people actually enjoy…?” to “What would it be like if we…?”. And I’ve learned to distinguish between genuine desire and performing adventurousness to impress. They feel completely different. But when I do feel that genuine shift…oh my, is it exciting.
The foundation is always safety. As I touched on in my last blog, people explore when they feel unjudged, when they trust that ‘actually, this isn’t for me’ is a completely acceptable outcome. I’m not here to convince anyone, I’m here to make space for curiosity and see where it takes us.
Something unexpected that makes you feel sexy?
Competence. Watching someone who knows exactly what they’re doing and doing it well is profoundly attractive. Something about witnessing mastery in all its forms makes my mind wander to what else that brain/those hands might be capable of…I once dated a man who made furniture for a living and it drove me totally feral.
Other tantalising teases? Hearing your unique take after a theatre show, watching you roll up your shirt sleeves, that focused expression when you’re absorbed in something, kindness to service staff, that first deep laugh once you’ve properly relaxed on our date. A smorgasbord of sensory pleasures.
What’s the most useful thing you’ve learned in your psychology training that applies to being a companion?
That shame and desire are bedfellows, and things become far more interesting when we learn to get cosy with them both.
Is there a psychological concept or theory that you think everyone should understand about desire?
Most literature focuses on the ways in which desire affects our behaviour, but we know less about how desire arises in the first place. What makes us decide to indulge in expensive wine, or fly across the world to see a lover? There’s a theory on this that fascinates me called grounded-cognition theory (more exciting than it sounds, I promise).
The theory suggests that desire arises when something triggers a simulation of a rewarding experience, either recalling something pleasurable or imagining something you want. Your brain re-enacts fragments: a scent, an image, a moment. This is “reward simulation.”
What makes it powerful is how your brain catalogues specific details. If you’ve been with someone before, encountering their perfume later can trigger the whole memory – where you were, the colour of their lingerie, the timbre of their voice. The desire recreates itself. But it works for imagination too: when you fantasise about someone you haven’t met yet, your brain builds the same kind of detailed simulation. Same reward system, same desire.So if we’ve met before, my content might trigger fragments of our time together, rekindling something familiar. If we haven’t, it gives your imagination something to ignite. So when you contact me to arrange a date? Tell me what you’ve been imagining. I really want to hear about it.
Best way(s) to build anticipation before a date?
The build–up is half the pleasure, and that’s backed by psychology; anticipation literally heightens dopamine. I’m a fan of thoughtful correspondence – not endless logistics, but the kind of messages that make the mind wander at inappropriate moments. Nothing better than a well-timed ‘I’ve been thinking about that dress you wore last time’ or ‘I found the perfect restaurant for us to try’. Additionally, these kinds of texts are always warmly received…
And if you’re a regular lover, well, the anticipation never really resets. Our last encounter bleeds into the next one, creating a tantalising continuous thread of “remember when” and “next time we should”…very hard to resist.
What makes a date worth remembering six months later?
Specificity and texture. Anyone can have a nice dinner (and don’t get me wrong, I do have a soft spot for collecting Michelin stars) but what makes a date linger are the details. A conversation that catches you off-guard; a thoughtful gift picking up on something I mentioned in passing; us nearly running out of the restaurant because we simply couldn’t wait any longer (has happened a few times!).
What’s something the textbooks get completely wrong about human connection?
That it’s linear. Academic models love their stages and progressions – attraction leads to intimacy leads to attachment – as if humans follow flowcharts. In reality, connection is messy and contradictory. You can feel deeply intimate with someone you’ve just met and strangely distant from someone you’ve known for years. Desire can deepen, shift, or stay exactly as it is, only better understood.
And what really gets me is the way textbooks flatten human connection into “healthy communication” and emotional openness. In practice, connection is built far more through shared regulation than shared understanding. Two people can communicate “correctly” and still feel profoundly disconnected. Another pair can barely articulate their emotions yet feel deeply bonded because their nervous systems co-regulate beautifully. Connection is profoundly embodied and relational. It happens in the body before it reaches language.
Current cultural obsession?
Fashion, but evolved. My style has shifted to something more classic with a twist – British-Italian 70s meets Scandi minimalism. Gone is any desire for obviously branded pieces. Nowadays I’m all about sustainability and longevity, where every piece earns its place in my curated collection. Brands that turn me on include The Row, Loewe, Toteme, Khaite, Bottega, D&G – styled with the foot-fetish edge of Giuseppe Zanotti. Of course, let us not forget my capricious love affair with Gucci. And for brands to turn you on, I’m currently obsessed with Agent Provocateur, in case you fancy treating me…
Beyond fashion, I could go on and on! The films of Paul Thomas Anderson. The music of Noah Kahan (he’s touring later this year, if anyone’s interested). The documentary Tell Them You Love Me, which is just incredibly fascinating from a psychological perspective. At the moment I’m obsessed with London’s growing offering of listening bars – I recently experienced the aural pleasure of The Listening Room at MOI in Soho and would love to go back. I’m also infatuated with theatre and am on a mission to see as many plays as possible. Join me in the stalls?
What or where is on your bucket list right now and why?
Japan is sitting firmly at the top. Every few years I like to do a big trip – two or three weeks minimum, to properly immerse myself – and Japan keeps calling to me. Beyond the obvious draws (the food, the onsens, the aesthetic perfection of everything), I’m fascinated by the contradictions: deeply traditional yet cutting-edge modern, intensely social yet beautifully anonymous. I want time to observe their social choreography, discover the wonder of the vending machines, admire the craftsmanship in mundane items – fruit packaging, train station signs, the way even ordinary objects are treated as worthy of care.
The Amalfi Coast, especially Positano, has a completely different pull on me: I’m drawn to the sheer drama of it all. Towns spilling down cliffsides into impossibly blue water, lemon groves suspended above the sea, terraces stacked like theatre balconies. It feels almost suspiciously beautiful, the kind of place that shouldn’t quite exist outside of films or old travel posters. I want long, aimless afternoons at La Scogliera, some playful flirtation during a pasta and tiramisu cooking class, a boat trip to Capri where we eat lemon ice cream in the midday heat, and a romantic dinner at La Serra with views so spectacular it feels transcendent. More than anything, I think I’m chasing that uniquely Mediterranean feeling of time loosening its grip slightly, where the day becomes structured around light, appetite, and the sea rather than productivity.
An honourable mention goes to the city of Lisbon. There’s something about its faded grandeur and melancholy beauty that feels accidentally cinematic rather than architecturally overwhelming. Clotheslines catching golden light, trams rattling uphill, tiled facades gleaming after rain, old men at newspaper kiosks, that particular river haze at sunset. It feels like somewhere to get properly lost in, both literally and emotionally.
Best date experience you’ve had?
A three-day trip to Iceland remains unbeaten. We chased the Northern Lights, soaked in steaming lagoons, strolled black sand beaches, went whale watching at dawn, and snowmobiled across landscapes that looked like another planet entirely. The freshest seafood I’ve ever tasted. Pastries still warm from the oven.
You’d think all of this would have exhausted us, but there’s something about ticking off bucket list experiences that creates a totally infectious energy…Iceland does something to you. Add the right companion and the cold becomes an excuse to stay closer. Highly recommend.
And that’s the deep dive. If you’ve made it this far, I have a feeling we’d get on rather well.
The question is, what are you waiting for? Your reward simulation is already building, after all.
Shall we turn theory into practice?
