The last time I truly dated – meaning, going on one-on-one dates with multiple people before entering anything exclusive – was in the early years of university.
And yes… that was over twenty years ago. 🫣
Back then, I didn’t have the tools that I have now. I’ve always been a “focus on one” kind of person – I’d meet someone, give them my time, and pour myself into the idea of us. The idea of dating felt exhausting, even performative.
But truthfully?
Actually dating might have been healthier than jumping headfirst into a relationship that weren’t grounded in mutual respect.
The Pattern: Wanting to Be Liked
When I look back at many of my past relationships, one theme stands out: I changed myself to be more likable.
At first, it felt like compromise. But over time, it turned into self-abandonment.
I laughed at jokes I didn’t find funny. I went to places that drained me. I picked up hobbies that didn’t interest me. I ignored discomfort just to support a partner’s journey – even when it cost me my own.
Eventually, I couldn’t recognize what I genuinely liked anymore. And I was tired. Not just physically – but spiritually, emotionally, and creatively.
Love Yourself First (Ugh… But Actually)
I used to roll my eyes when people said, “You have to love yourself first.” It felt like a throwaway phrase – a bumper-sticker truth that didn’t apply to the chaos I was in.
But I get it now.
I wasn’t just heartbroken; I was angry. I felt ashamed for ignoring red flags, for trusting too deeply, for losing my autonomy. There was a strange comfort in the dark, like the pain wrapped around me and gave me permission to disappear.
Luckily, I had good friends. Friends who reminded me of who I was before it all – before the guilt, the gaslighting, and the grief. I took space. I left the city for a while, and in that quiet, I began to listen to myself again.
I’m Not Here to Fit Anyone’s Ideal
One truth emerged from the wreckage: I no longer have to contort myself to be loved.
I am not an inconvenience. I am not a supporting character in someone else’s fantasy. I do not need to prove my worth by sacrificing my peace.
I once moved mountains on my own. I built things. I am whole – not half, not waiting to be completed.
I am here. I am seen. I am worthy. And I already have so much love in my life.
Dating Now: With Intention
Now that I’m dating again, I do it with a clear heart. I’m not trying to be chosen. I’m not looking to become someone’s emotional crutch or conquest.
What I am looking for is someone who loves with both consideration and admiration.
That’s my compass now. When I go on dates, I quietly assess:
Are their actions rooted in thoughtfulness or performance? Do they see me clearly and respect what they see?
Kindness alone isn’t enough. I’m not here for transactional affection or subtle manipulation masked as care. I set clear boundaries to protect my space – even something as small as not giving out my personal number until I’m comfortable. That alone has spared me a lot of unnecessary drama.
It doesn’t have to be complicated. It just has to be true.
I Still Want to Love
Here’s what I know for sure:
Grief is love with nowhere to go. And I have so much love I’m ready to pour – not as tears, but as warmth, joy, and generosity.
I want to love someone, deeply and gently, but I won’t lose myself again to do it.
The right person will meet me here, and we’ll recognize each other not as saviors or puppets, but as companions.