The Moment That Changed Everything

The Grand Ole Swipe: My Love-Hate Relationship with the Perfect Profile Picture

It started with a photo of me on a hay bale. Not exactly what you’d call "game-changing imagery," but there I was—sitting cross-legged, slightly sunburned, holding a mason jar of sweet tea like I had just emerged from an amateur reenactment of a Taylor Swift music video. My cousin Sarah had posted it on Instagram, and within hours, it was flooded with likes and comments. “Cutest pic EVER!!!” And: “Vibes for days.” And my personal favorite: “Country chic.”

It seemed whimsical and Southern without trying too hard—the Instagram trifecta. So, naturally, when I decided to try online dating for the first time, I led with the hay-bale shot. I slapped it on my profile like it was my golden ticket to whatever charming guy was out there waiting for this Nashville girl-next-door to croon her way into his life.

Spoiler alert: It wasn't.

Playing the Lead Role in My Own Romantic Comedy

The problem wasn’t the hay bale. It wasn’t the tea or the backdrop of what I think was technically a pumpkin patch (classy). It was that the photo didn’t match anything else I put in my profile.

You see, I’d written my bio like I was trying to audition for a role I wasn’t remotely prepared to play. Instead of leaning into who I really am—quirky, chatty, loving, hopelessly loyal—I leaned into who I thought some abstract algorithm wanted me to be: Savannah, but, like, cooler. Savannah, but someone who quotes Oscar Wilde instead of Dolly Parton. Savannah, but someone who wouldn’t, under any circumstances, use the phrase “Bless your heart” unironically.

My biggest dating moment—the one that truly changed everything—didn’t happen on the first date or the last. It didn’t happen in those late-night text flurries where you try to figure out the perfect mix of intrigue and emojis. It happened in the middle of creating my profile, when I looked down at my bio and thought: Who is this person?

The Oh Dang Moment: When Dating Got Real

There’s a moment during any creative process where all pretense burns away. It happens on stage when you’re singing with a band that’s just slightly off-key. It happens when you’re editing a story and realize that saying "neon sunrise" for the fifth time does not, in fact, land like poetry. In this case, it happened with every swipe I got on that carefully crafted, utterly inauthentic dating profile.

Every guy who messaged me had clearly fallen for "Hilary," my Internet alter-ego. And by “Hilary,” I mean the version of me who claimed to love red wine (dry, obviously) and long hikes (wearing surprisingly expensive boots). This was strategic because I thought it projected competence and intrigue, unlike my actual dating reality: getting mildly winded while walking my dog, Biscuit, and stress-buying Little Debbie cakes at Kroger.

No one who messaged me would have been right for the real Savannah—not because they were bad guys, but because I wasn’t being honest about who they’d be getting in return. After a while, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I slammed my laptop shut one night, flopped onto my couch, ~probably~ definitely opened a sleeve of Oreos, and murmured dramatically to Biscuit, “This isn’t working.”

Let me tell you: Eating cookies alone with your dog is many things, but a low point isn’t one of them. It was clarity.

How to Actually Write a Dating Profile (Without Losing Your Mind)

For anyone else walking the same tightrope of digital dating, here’s what I realized: a good profile isn’t about who you want people to think you are. It’s about leading with your truest notes—like a good country song, stripped down to three chords and the raw truth. Here’s what worked for me once I scrapped the "Hilary" version:

  1. Pick Photos that Feel Authentically You.
    You don’t need ten curated shots that make you look like an influencer on a perfectly filtered road trip. (Trust me, I tried, and it didn’t land.) Instead:
  2. Start with one clear, happy shot where you look like yourself. Pro tip: If your real-life friends love the photo and it gets compliments in the wild, it’ll land online too.

  3. Add a mix: a full-body pic (because photoshopped mystery isn’t cute), an action shot (preferably doing something you love), and maybe a silly or candid one if that feels right.

  4. Be Specific in Your Bio.
    Instead of writing “I love music,” name-drop the artists that give you butterflies. (Johnny Cash, The Chicks, and a weird addiction to Brandi Carlile covers? Same, honestly.) Instead of saying you “like traveling,” tell us about the time you accidentally ended up on a boat tour of the Thames in London when you were just trying to find coffee. (True story, 10/10 for scenic detours.)

Specificity feels personal—it makes people feel like they can step into your life. And if that means admitting that you cry at re-runs of Family Feud, so be it.

  1. Write Your Profile Like You’d Text a Friend.
    Whenever you type something out, read it back and ask yourself: “Would I actually say this in real life?” If the answer is no, rephrase it. Your bio should sound like you, just polished enough to make a good impression. Think of it as drafting a letter to your hypothetical crush but without using words like "existential."

  2. Leave Room for Discovery.
    Sure, you want to put enough out there to attract people who get you, but don’t give everything away. If you list every single quirky detail (like: I still know the choreography from our high school musical), what’s left to talk about over coffee?

  3. Edit Ruthlessly.
    I’m a writer, so you can trust me here: A good profile is really about editing. Cut anything cliché or overly polished. Keep it short, sweet, and easy to skim. People shouldn’t feel like they’re scrolling through a novella to figure you out.

The Real Glow-Up Was Self-Acceptance

So, what happened when I finally updated my profile? For starters, I swapped out the hay-bale glamour for a picture of me laughing in my backyard with Biscuit. I revised my bio to include actual details about my life, like my undying love for biscuits (the food), biscuits (the dog), and joking about biscuits (the joke). Did I stop getting matches from wine-savvy adventurers named Griffin? Yep.

But you know what? The people who started showing up in my inbox were my kind of people. The kind who knew something about biscuits that no algorithm ever could.

The Takeaway

Look, dating is messy—even messier than using a seasonal hay bale as a photography studio. But if you've learned nothing else from my misguided digital romance journey, let it be this: Your best matches will come when you show up as your real self, no filters required.

Because here’s the truth: Somewhere out there, someone will love you not because you’re playing the part—chic, polished, and perfectly aspirational—but because you’re just exactly who you are.

So the next time you’re tweaking that profile or picking a photo, put down the cool-kid act and grab the shot where you look happy, tired eyes and all. That’ll be the one that changes everything.