It wasn’t until I finally decided to reach out to my ex that I snapped, sharply so, back to reality. He *wasn’t* thinking of me the same way. He *was* actually that cold. He by no means wanted to get back together.

I didn’t call and come clean to George because I thought it would make me more attractive. It wasn’t some backhanded attempt to play hard to get. I did it because I’d strung along another human being—him in this case. I’d been flakey and elusive. I wanted to apologize.

She knew all too well that to say anything more at this point would be an attempt to forecast or control something I was still working to understand. Someone I was still working on getting to know.

I'm lying because I'm scared to tell the truth. I'm scared those people won't still love me in my truth.

I was blessed in this scenario because I quite literally couldn’t hide my feelings. Facing someone who knows me so deeply, he could see right through.

What I came to realize about myself is that I actually didn’t feel deserving of having my emotional needs met. I both didn’t think I needed someone to meet my emotional needs and I couldn’t fathom anyone would actually want to.

Always be your true self. But I get the conundrum. It’s something I’ve experienced personally.

I know the agony of going over your every move with a fine tooth comb.

Improving our dating lives has little to do with the actual date itself. Up your ownership of your own life and watch what happens to your resiliency around dating.

People often assume men miraculously fall into my lap and every date is sheer perfection. While I do operate with more ease I'm still a human being with a big heart and a longing for love and affection.

Want what you want. You're still a badass. I promise.

Instead of leading with a vague "Hey so like how are you feeling about all of this?" I speak from my heart. I get vulnerable. Vulnerability begets vulnerability.

In my early dating days, if someone ghosted me, I'd write it off, claiming I "didn't care," only to then continue harboring resentment, anger and sadness for weeks to come.

As kids we're not instructed to wait to say we're sorry. We're encouraged to be generous with our apologies, to not make people wait. But somewhere along the way, especially for women, we became all too generous with our apologies.

It's one thing to say it and another to be reminded of what the sitting actually looks and feels like.

It led me to ask myself: How, in every area of my life, can I lean into the unfamiliar? With dating, that's greater patience and multiple ongoing conversations.

So few of us can gauge when we are or aren't ready to date. And with the apps, you're swimming in a sea of people who don't operate with intention.

As my face dipped downward to meet the rim of my cup, my eyes met his right hand. A ring? Was it on the correct hand?

We went from being all high on getting to know one another to chemistry waning, conversation feeling less fluid, and ultimately our interest in one another dwindling.

I have a pattern in dating to nip the grey area in the bud and beat heartbreak to the punch. To never be the one from whom the rug is pulled out from under — to always be the rug puller.

Ironically, telling him and essentially cutting him off, made me feel a lot less lonely.

I was so used to managing closure on my own. With this guy — with every guy. But that’d also become a crutch. A way to mask my feelings and just “move on” while avoiding a difficult conversation.

I’d ghosted because saying something dishonest seemed worse than saying nothing at all.

There are these moments in our dating lives where things feel equal parts insane but also kismet.

Whenever I experience such extreme negativity in any form or context — be it home ownership or love — it makes me pause, and then (often) call bullshit.

Dating and beyond, it's a constant effort with anything in life, to not view our present through the lens of our past.

The rebound to end all rebounds ultimately taught me how to lean into liking someone in those early days of dating.

The wounds of my breakup were squarely in the rearview, but I could easily recall how terrible they felt. 

…we love to make excuses for our problems, especially by way of blaming circumstances supposedly outside of our control. Case in point: dating in NYC.