
Walking Into the Unknown
There are few things more nerve-wracking than your first Munch.
Tests, interviews, first dates, even public speaking, all of it pales in comparison to this: Walking solo into a pub full of kinky strangers, wondering if you’ll be stuck sipping a flat Diet Coke in the corner, completely ignored.
A munch (short for ‘munching’) is a casual social meet-up for kink-inclined people, usually held in a public, vanilla venue. Think pub, not play party. You’re not expected to wear latex, call anyone ‘Master,’ or bring a spare massage table in case you pull. (I’ve actually seen that happen. Once.)
It’s a chance to meet others in the community, make friends, find mentors, or simply get a feel for what’s out there.
But that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.
You don’t know anyone. Or maybe you only know a few people from online. You’re curious. You want to go. But your brain is already spinning with questions:
- Will I be welcomed, ignored, or judged?
- Can I talk to anyone, or is there some unspoken protocol?
- What if I say the wrong thing, wear the wrong outfit, or sit in the wrong place?
- Do we talk about kink, or is that taboo?
- What if I just end up at a table by myself, too anxious to start a conversation?
Whether you’re an anxious introvert, a bold-but-baffled newbie, or someone tiptoeing from online curiosity into real-world connection, this guide is for you.
Everyone Feels Weird. That’s the Point
Firstly, you may feel like the world is watching you, judging your every move, but I promise, most people are too busy worrying about themselves. Everyone carries their own nerves. You’re not alone in yours.
Small talk, group settings, and new spaces: all of these can feel like a challenge even for the socially seasoned. Add kink to the mix, and it can feel like you’re walking in wearing a flashing neon sign. But the truth is: everyone there has walked through the same door. You already have something in common.
And if someone like you is going… there’s a fair chance someone like you is already there.
Munches aren’t designed as dating arenas (though magic sometimes happens). The goal is connection. It only takes one conversation, one moment, one shared laugh to change everything.
These things start small and grow.
Kink, the Great Leveller
When someone brings up a munch, you’ll often hear a collective groan. Why? Because let’s be honest, they can be awkward. Sometimes cliquey, or a total sausage fest. And the fantasy of Eyes Wide Shut doesn’t quite prepare you for the back room of your local Wetherspoons.
But here’s what often gets overlooked: munches offer acceptance, and kink is the great leveller.
Tell me your darkest fantasy. Your dreams of being taken or taking control. Tell me what excites you, scares you, unsettles you. Lay your soul bare, trembling, honest, unfiltered.
And then ask me again what school you went to, what car you drive, or what you do for a living. Because really, who cares?
In the vanilla world, we’re constantly evaluated based on our LinkedIn bios, our postcodes, the brand of our shoes. We’re taught to judge by job titles and dinner-party polish. But in kink spaces, especially munches, those markers fall away. By design, we often don’t ask where someone works or lives. It’s an unspoken rule, a courtesy. We protect anonymity, not just for privacy, but because those things don’t define us here.
This is one of the reasons I’ll always love the messiness of being kinky. We wear our dark hearts on our sleeves. I can walk into a munch and be deep in conversation with a stranger within minutes, the kind of conversation you don’t get at office drinks or a PTA meeting. Raw. Honest and real.
Not Every Pervert is Your People
Of course, not everyone you meet will be your tribe. Just because we both like rope or butt plugs doesn’t mean we’re destined to be besties. Shared kink can open the door, but it’s what’s behind it that counts.
Connection runs deeper than the alignment of tastes. What draws us together isn’t just a fetish, it’s the courage to be real. To share the parts we’ve hidden. To be heard without judgment.
When that happens, even just once, it’s worth everything.
What to Expect at Your First Munch
Most munches are run by regular hosts or rotating organisers. They’ll usually reserve a space in a pub or bar: sometimes a private room, sometimes just a cluster of tables. These are vanilla venues, so dress accordingly. No latex, no chunky collars, no chaps. Save the harness for the afterparty.
Yes, wear black if that’s your comfort zone (many do), but think discreet, not display. Dress how you feel most like yourself, calm, open, comfortable.
Remember: just because we’re kinky doesn’t mean we have to shout about it. Drawing the wrong kind of attention from other pub patrons can jeopardise future events.
Whatever else you think of Munches, there are few places where the social veneer strips away so quickly.
Because when someone sees the part of you you’ve spent a lifetime hiding, and doesn’t flinch, it makes all the awkward small talk worth it.
Different Kinds of Munches
Not all munches are created equal. Some are general; others are tailored for age groups, specific roles (e.g., Dom/me-only or submissive socials), or queer/LGBTQ+ communities.
If you’re socially anxious, try a structured or game-based munch first. These offer built-in conversation prompts, which take the pressure off. It’s a bit like speed dating for weirdos, and I mean that in the best way. You don’t have to love talking to strangers. And you definitely don’t have to become best friends with everyone. Just explore what fits you best.
Final Thoughts
Go in with low expectations, truly. You don’t need to “click.” You’re not there to perform. Go to witness. To learn. To maybe feel a little less alone.
And if you do meet someone, a friend, a mentor, a mirror, then you’ve found something precious. Because one real connection can change everything.
10 Tips for Surviving your First Munch and Beyond!
1. Dress for Comfort, Not the Dungeon
Wear whatever makes you feel relaxed, but leave the latex, corsets, and thigh-highs at home. Munches are held in public, vanilla venues (think: Wetherspoons, not Eyes Wide Shut), so keep things subtle and respectful.
A playful accessory, like a hat, scarf, or statement ring or necklace, can be a nice conversation starter. If you want to quietly signal your role, a discreet collar or a stiletto with jeans works far better than full leather cosplay. Double denim was a terrible look in the 80s, but double leather is worse.
2. Message Ahead
Reach out to the host or organiser in advance. A simple, “Hey, it’s my first time, would love to say hi,” goes a long way. Many hosts are keen to help newcomers feel welcome. I’ve stepped in as a host before, and we look out for newcomers to make sure they feel included. You can also message a few others listed as attending, even one reply out of ten can give you a friendly face in the room and help break the ice. Or maybe team up with another and go together.
3. Protect Your Identity
Have your FetLife name ready, or set up a basic profile before attending if you want to share contact details anonymously. Real names usually aren’t used at first, and shouldn’t be expected. You may be introduced to others, so you’ll need to have your name handy. Avoid sharing too much personal info early on; kink worlds are small, and discretion is part of the culture for a reason.
4. Scout the Venue
If you’re nervous, visit the venue on a regular day first. Sit with a drink and get a feel for the space. If they serve food, ordering a meal at the munch can help ease the pressure to mingle straight away.
Attend as a regular patron on a munch evening, observe from a distance until you’re ready to dive in. And don’t worry if you’re on your own, sometimes the quiet ones are the most magnetic.
A phone can also be a security blanket, but don’t bury yourself in it. Look up now and then.
5. Know How to Mingle
- Bring a soft toy, seriously. A tiny plushie poking out of your pocket or bag is charming, especially to women, and makes a great conversation starter. Some munches even have mascots that get dressed up and thrown around.
- Avoid slipping into Dom/sub roles without consent; no one’s agreed to scene with you just by showing up. If someone does act like that, they’re a prat. Move on.
- Groups can be intimidating; solo folks or pairs are easier to approach. And remember, conversation topics don’t have to include kink, talk about books, shows, or your cat. Compliment others on their outfits, ask about the food, anything. Shared kinks don’t always mean compatible personalities, but they do give you a bridge.
- It can take a while for the room to warm up. I tend to arrive a few hours after the official start. People are more relaxed by then, the big group has splintered into smaller, more manageable clusters, and it’s easier to blend in. You feel less obvious when the room is fuller, especially with regular pub-goers around too
- Respect neurodiversity and social styles. Not everyone will want to talk. Not everyone makes eye contact. Some folks stim, some fidget, some overshare, some under-share. That’s the beauty of kink communities: they attract the gloriously awkward and the quietly intense. Give people room to be themselves.
6. Lower Your Expectations
You’re not entering a secret society or about to meet the love of your life. It’s just a gathering. Think “awkward networking in a pub” with a little more eyeliner, and a lot more black. There’s no play, no picking people up, unless explicitly stated, munches are social, not sexual.
7. Watch Your Drink
Unfortunately, spiking does happen. I’ve been spiked at a kink event, and the mix of trauma and fuzzy legality made it worse. Always keep your drink close. Also, many people drink to mask anxiety, but don’t be afraid to offer either. It’s a forgotten kindness. (Gen X remembers.)
8. Thank the Host
Munches don’t run themselves. They take time, energy, and a lot of invisible labour, arriving early, staying late, managing drama, and making sure the vibe stays safe and welcoming. If you can, thank the host. Even a quick message afterwards can mean a lot, and they’ll likely remember you, maybe even add you to the group or friend you later.
True story: my girlfriend and I once planned to run a munch in London. We got as far as announcing it… Then immediately handed the whole thing off to her husband the moment it got real. He’s still running it to this day.
9. Know the Numbers
Munches can feel like sausage fests, and honestly, that’s not far off. At least in London, they tend to be male-dominated. When I worked for a dating site, we crunched some numbers that stuck with me:
- Kink platforms averaged 7 men for every 3 women
- Vanilla sites like eHarmony came in closer to 50/50
- Sugar dating sites flipped the kink ratio: 7 women to 3 men
Of course, these aren’t fixed laws, and gender identity is far more nuanced than a binary count. But it’s helpful to go in with realistic expectations around numbers and social dynamics, especially if you’re hoping to meet people beyond casual chat.
10. What Not to Do
Leave the toys at home. Seriously. No whips, cuffs, chains, paddles, and definitely no photos of your toy collection. Don’t sit there stroking your flogger like a Bond villain.
One guy turned up to a friend’s event with so much gear hanging from his utility belt that we worried he’d topple over.
This isn’t Comic Con, and you’re not auditioning for Fifty Shades: The Amateur Years. Munches are social spaces, not scenes. You’re here to talk, not to play, unless the event explicitly states otherwise.
And remember: toys are tools. They don’t make you powerful. You make you powerful. The best dominants and submissives command respect without showing a single prop.
11. Bonus tip: If You’re Nervous, Say So!
Don’t hide it, name it. Saying “this is my first munch” is a surprisingly effective icebreaker. Most people will soften, share their own first-time stories, or introduce you around. Vulnerability is disarming, human, and often builds more connection than any clever quip or rehearsed line. Everyone was new once, and to be honest, most of us still feel awkward half the time.
That’s my list! If you’ve got better coping mechanisms (aside from “four glasses of wine and hiding in the loo”), do please share.
We’ve all white-knuckled our way through a first Munch, because nothing says ‘Welcome to kink’ like pretending you’re fine while planning your escape route.
But remember this: showing up is brave. Even if you leave early, even if you don’t speak much, you still did it. That matters. Be proud. And when you’re ready, try again. Kink isn’t going anywhere, and neither are we.