Going on Dates with FND: Third-Wheeling

We popped to Nando’s

I decided to take Emma out for dinner. Nothing fancy. We just popped to our local Nando’s.

When I asked if she wanted to go out for some food, she genuinely looked excited. Happy. That face is the whole point of a date. I do not like her feeling as if she is missing out, or that she has to avoid “normal” things — particularly when they are things she actually wants to do.

Was it the best environment? Probably not. She had already been ticking a fair amount during the day. The lights were bright. We were seated directly under a speaker that seemed to be playing two different songs at once. Lots of people talking. The clanging of cutlery. Classic sensory pile-on. If you live with FND you already know that mix: noise, light, chatter, a body that has been working too hard since breakfast.

We sat down anyway.

Then the third wheel sat down with us

The minute we were in that environment, the tics escalated. Arms shooting into the air. People getting winks they did not ask for. The odd whistle sneaking out.

Then the food arrived. Sweet potato wedges for starter. They were actually pretty good. I am not sure the waitress who received one of them to the head felt quite the same way.

Emma ticked. Her hand flew up. A wedge launched into the air and landed, squarely, on the waitress’s head.

Here is the bit I want you to sit with: the waitress had already noticed Emma was struggling with tics, without us having to explain FND over the menu. She laughed. She carried on with her job. No scene. No pity performance. Just a human being who decided not to make it worse.

After that, Emma had a couple of functional seizures. I held her. From the next booth it probably looked like we were having a cuddle. These things do not bother me. I do not get embarrassed. If people do not understand it, that is on them — they can educate themselves. I could not give a care in the world what they think.

That is one couple, one evening, one way of staying close. It is not a protocol. What keeps someone safe in an episode is personal. If you want the general picture, read our guide to functional seizures.

The FND-model iPhone

When Emma came around, she wanted her phone. TikTok opened as soon as she unlocked it. Music blared through the speaker. The phone was then immediately launched over the top of the booth and landed on the floor.

Fortunately, Emma appears to have the FND model of the iPhone. For reasons I do not fully understand, her phone can withstand the most extreme falls, drops and throws without issue. Apple should put that in the spec sheet.

She thinks I am embarrassed. I am not.

I think one of Emma’s biggest issues is that she thinks I am embarrassed of her. And she gets embarrassed for me — not even for herself.

No matter how much I explain that I really do not get embarrassed, she still stresses about what other people are thinking, and whether I am worried about what they are thinking.

If you are the partner: hear that twice. A lot of people with FND are not only managing symptoms in public. They are managing your imagined humiliation. They are scanning your face for a flinch. They will cancel the next date to protect you from a room of strangers who do not matter.

So you have to make it boringly obvious. Not with a speech you give once. With how you sit, how you look at them, whether you apologise to the restaurant as if they have done something wrong. I will say it as plainly as I can:

I am not embarrassed of you. Other people’s opinions are not my problem. We are here because I wanted to be here with you.

Laugh with them. Never at them.

There were points where her tics made it look like she was bopping along to the music. So I just joined in.

Not to make fun of her. Not to make a scene. To make her laugh. To make it obvious that I am there with her, and I will laugh with her all day long, and never at her.

That line is the whole guide, really. If you take nothing else from our Nando’s: always laugh with them. Never at them. Make that clear — in the joke, in the cuddle, in the “shall we get the bill” — and they get to enjoy your company instead of spending the evening doing public-relations for their own nervous system.

The third wheel does not always have to be a negative

We took ours out for the evening. I am sure Emma would rather it had stayed home. FND usually would. But we still had a good time. A memorable one.

That is the bit people miss when they treat FND as a reason to shrink a whole relationship down to the sofa. Pacing matters. Sensory load matters. Recovery the next day might be rough — see the symptom hangover and sensory overload. None of that means love has to go on hold until symptoms behave.

Go on the dates. Not the ones that steamroll them. The ones they actually want. Let FND third-wheel if it insists. Sit it under the speaker with the two songs, order the wedges, hold them through the seizure, fetch the phone off the floor, and stay a couple.

I had one of the funnest evenings we have had in a long time. That is allowed.

Frequently asked questions

Should you still go on dates if FND makes public places hard?

Yes, when your partner wants to go. FND can make restaurants noisy, bright and unpredictable, but cancelling every ordinary night out can feel like another loss. Ask, listen, and go when the answer is a genuine yes — even if you might need to leave early.

What if my partner thinks I am embarrassed of their FND?

Say it clearly, more than once: you are not embarrassed. Many people with FND carry shame for their partner, not only for themselves. Your job is to keep proving, with your face and your body language, that other people’s opinions are not your problem.

How do you support tics or a functional seizure on a date?

Stay with them. Keep them safe. Do not make a scene or apologise to the room as if they have done something wrong. What helps one person will not help everyone — learn their usual pattern, and see our functional seizures guide for general safety notes. This article is one couple’s night out, not medical advice.

Does going out mean you are ignoring pacing?

No. Pacing includes choosing what matters. A date can still be worth the recovery cost if it was wanted. You can pick quieter seats next time without deciding that FND has banned restaurants forever.

This is a personal story from Matthew and Emma, written to help partners stay in the relationship rather than the waiting room. It is information, not medical advice. FND CONNECT CIC is not a crisis service.