The Moment That Changed Everything

Like many pivotal life changes, mine started in the most unlikely of places: the fluorescent-lit aisles of a Target in suburban Dallas. I wasn’t searching for clarity or an epiphany. I was searching for laundry detergent. You know, the organic one that doesn’t weirdly smell like a candle store exploded in your washer. But as I debated the merits of lavender versus unscented, I overheard a woman say something that stopped me mid-sniff:

“Girl, you can’t just wait on men to find you. It’s 2017, not Jane Austen! Make a profile and see what happens!”

Now, eavesdropping isn’t my usual thing, but her frustration was nuclear. Whoever she was coaching seemed to be on the verge of deleting her entire dating app journey before it even began. I chuckled, but her words echoed the very thing I had chosen to avoid for years—the world of online dating. At the time, I was firmly in the “I’ll just meet someone in person, like our grandparents did” corner, despite the fact my real-life chances at love mostly involved awkward setups or giving my number to men who thought sending a "What you doin'" text at midnight was relationship-building.

But as I walked out that day—with my unscented detergent, thank you very much—it hit me: Was I waiting too long for life to meet me halfway?

Spoiler alert: I was.

The Swipe That Changed My Perspective

Let me set the scene. My love life up to that point had been, for lack of a more poetic term, a tumbleweed rolling through a dry desert. Beautiful in imagery, barren in reality. I’d come out of grad school with a glittering degree, versatile career prospects, and exactly zero leads in the romance department. The last time a man had truly swept me off my feet, it was because I tripped over a curb and he happened to be passing by.

So, after hearing that stranger’s advice, I did something I’d sworn I’d never do: I downloaded a dating app. I’ll admit, it took me a few iced lattes and one big glass of wine to actually set up a profile. I agonized over every question, every potential detail, every picture—an overthinking spiral that would make even the most Type A personality give me a slow clap. Along the way, I began to realize that crafting an online dating profile wasn’t really about the likes or witty openers. It was about how you saw yourself. And let me tell you—there’s nothing like trying to summarize your life’s worth in a bio that’s shorter than a tweet to make you confront your own perception of who you are.

“Lover of words, brunch enthusiast, can parallel park on the first try 87% of the time.”
Send tweet. Publish profile.

But here’s the thing I didn’t expect: That tiny box of text and those perfectly curated photos—me in soulful black and white, me laughing mid-margarita on a patio—weren’t just a checklist for someone else’s eyes. They became a mirror, showing me the gaps between who I wanted to be and who I thought I was. And that? That was the reflection I hadn’t signed up for but desperately needed.

Lessons in Laughter and Left Swipes

Let’s pause for a moment to appreciate that online dating is, in fact, hilarious. My first couple of swipes introduced me to a cast of characters I can only describe as a dating app bingo card come to life:

  • The Shirtless Mirror Selfie Guy: “At least he’s consistent in his energy bill savings?”
  • The All-Caps Texter: “HELLO BEAUTIFUL! HOW ARE YOU DOING?” My eyeballs responded, "CALM DOWN."
  • The Overly-Eloquent Poet: Sir, we just met. A haiku about my smile might be overkill.

It was somewhere between a painful opening message—“If you were a fruit, you’d be a fineapple” (definitely NO)—and a real gem of sarcasm that I began to relax. The app stopped feeling like a gauntlet of judgment—I mean, who among us hasn’t angled a selfie to hide bad lighting or typed and deleted a message 12 times before hitting send? It started to feel like simply a tool for connection.

When swipe after swipe didn’t immediately end in a storybook romance, I learned to pivot. I put less pressure on myself. Suddenly, experimenting with my profile became fun. I added a photo from a kayaking adventure—and promptly answered chat messages insisting I didn’t look like someone who gets eaten by mosquitoes (spoiler: I very much am). I made my profile headline a little bolder: “Professional wordsmith with questionable karaoke skills but excellent taste in tacos.” It felt oddly empowering to shed the “perfect Ebony” act and embrace the layered, playful, grew-up-having-two-SAT-tutors-but-still-loves-Beyoncé parts of me.

Your Dating Profile Glow-Up Made Easy

Here’s the truth: Too many of us see dating profiles as a painful necessity. But you don’t have to demote your entire personality to a slogan or plaster yourself with filters that don’t even look like you. Downloading the app doesn’t mean selling your soul to the swipe culture gods. It just requires a playbook, one that lets your real self shine:

  • 1. Show Who You Are Beyond the Aesthetics: Yes, we’re all gorgeous in our headshots, but throw in a photo that shows who you are when you’re happiest: hiking, dancing, baking banana bread, whatever! Your match deserves to visualize the you who’s loving life, not auditioning for America’s Next Top Model.

  • 2. Don’t “Just Be Witty”—Be You: Cracking jokes in your bio is great, but don’t strain for viral cleverness. If you’re passionate about 90’s sitcom trivia or salsa dancing, let that shine. (Side note: Word to the wise, skip clichés like “I’m fluent in sarcasm.” It’s tired, babes.)

  • 3. Get Specific: Don’t just say you love pizza; say, “Ask me about the time I almost cried over a New York slice.” Don’t say you “love traveling”; say, “Best trip ever? That time I accidentally ended up in a French cooking class in Nice.” Details make you stand out.

  • 4. Leave Room for Comedy: Your DMs might be slightly less romantic if someone opens with a pun, but they’re usually a lot more fun. Plus, humor shows warmth—it’s like love’s VIP pass!

  • 5. Set Your Intentions, Clearly and Kindly: Decide what you’re looking for—casual chats, long-term vibes, or something in between—and let your profile reflect that. No one has time for Morse coding intentions through vague bios.

The Life-Changing Moment? Spoiler, It Was About Me All Along

You’d think the big game-changer would’ve been finally meeting someone amazing—and yes, there were some pretty great guys (and maybe a few who inspired future comedy material). But the single most transformative moment in all of this turned out to be personal, not romantic.

That Target epiphany didn’t just nudge me to create a dating profile; it pushed me toward self-discovery. I learned to take myself a little less seriously, to advocate for my weird quirks, and to show up—not just in dating but in life—as someone authentically me. In peeling back the surface-level layers, I found something more valuable than any rom-com ending: A version of myself that wasn’t waiting for anyone else’s approval to feel whole.

And wouldn’t you know, embracing that version of me turned out to be the secret sauce of every dating success thereafter.

So the next time someone asks where to begin their online dating journey, my advice is this: Don’t wait for anyone to find you. Get out there. Swipe thoughtfully. But first? Be authentically and unapologetically yourself.