There I was, sitting in my little one-bedroom apartment in Montgomery, staring at an online dating profile I’d spent hours tweaking but still managed to hate. You’d think with two degrees and a lifetime of Southern storytelling in my blood, I could string together a few sentences to make myself sound irresistible—or at the very least, interesting. But no. I was somewhere between "loves long walks and deep conversations" (yawn) and "just here for the memes" (a lie, I didn’t even understand half the memes on these apps).

That’s when it hit me: my dating profile wasn’t the problem. I was. Well, not ME me, but the version of me I was trying to package for the consumption of strangers online. This unfiltered realization, much like being splashed with sweet tea you didn’t know was still boiling, turned out to be the moment that changed everything.

Looking back now, the issue wasn’t that I didn’t know what to say—it was that I didn’t know how to say it in a way that mattered. No more clichés. No more apologizing for being myself. What eventually came from this breakthrough shaped not only how I approached online dating but also how I view connection in general. Let me walk you through what I learned, y’all, and maybe, just maybe, save you from your own sweet-tea moment.

Stop Being a Résumé, Start Being a Person

Here’s the thing: A dating profile is not an elaborate cover letter. Sure, that high-achieving, Southern-tradition-meets-modernity version of you might fly at a job interview, but romance doesn’t work like LinkedIn. Listing your alma mater, hobbies, and greatest achievements doesn’t create intrigue—it creates distance. People connect with quirks, not credentials.

For example, my first draft led with something like this:
“MA in History, passionate about civil rights research. Lover of local folklore and live music.”

Not bad, but also…not good. It was like shaking hands with someone who immediately tells you their tax bracket. Look, I’m proud of my work, but nobody’s swiping for archival research skills. Instead, I flipped the script:
“Fluent in Southern charm, regional ghost stories, and finding old records. Will 100% argue over which barbecue is the best—and win.”

Want to make your profile more you and less of a job interview? Add personality to every statement. Talk about what makes you light up inside, what makes you laugh, or what you care about deeply. Make an impression they’ll remember—even if it’s one that makes them snort their coffee like they're trying to laugh discreetly at a family reunion.

Specificity Is Sexy

You know how every baking show always has at least one contestant who describes every single flavor as "bold" and "rich"? That’s what vague descriptions are like on a dating profile. Why are so many of us out here saying things like "I love music" or "I enjoy traveling"? Be real—what does that even mean?

For example, when I used to say, “I love books,” it felt safe but generic. Now I say, “I have a soft spot for Southern Gothic novels, mostly because those characters are somehow more dramatic than my extended family.” It’s oddly specific, and guess what? People love that. It gives them something to respond to, something to hook their curiosity.

Here’s a cheat sheet to level up your dating profile with specifics:
- Instead of "I love to cook," try "My biscuits have been described as life-changing, and I own this." - Instead of "I enjoy movies," try "I’ve seen every James Bond film—yes, even the bad ones—and I’ll totally explain to you why Pierce Brosnan was underrated."
- Instead of "I like working out," try "My preferred cardio is dancing wildly in my kitchen while Aretha Franklin is on full blast."

Specificity shows personality, and personality creates sparks—preferably the fun, electric kind, not the awkward static shock of dodging generic conversation topics.

Lead With Authenticity (Not What You Think They Want)

Confession time: For years, I thought the best way to succeed in online dating was to be as appealing as possible, even if it meant downplaying parts of myself. Like, I didn’t mention that I was casually obsessed with genealogy because I thought no one would find that hot (spoiler: someone did). I didn’t own up to being a hopeless romantic who still cries during weddings because I thought it would come off as too intense (another spoiler: it doesn’t).

If you’re tempted to curate your profile into a sparkling highlight reel, stop yourself and ask: “Is this me? Or is this just the Instagram version of me?” Owning your quirkier, imperfect sides will feel riskier, but it pays off. People don’t fall in love with perfection; they fall in love with humanity.

For example, one time I mentioned in passing that I get irrationally competitive during board games because my family made Clue games into blood sport. Not only did it spark numerous convos about game nights, but it also gave potential matches a window into my life: messy, chaotic, and full of people who still argue over whether the Colonel really did it.

Photos That Tell a Story

Here’s a rule you didn’t ask for but probably need: Use your photos to showcase your life, not your ability to filter out your forehead wrinkles (they’re charming, trust me). People aren’t just looking for attraction—they’re looking for context.

Here’s how I approach it now:
- The “This Is Me” Shot: A close-up where you’re happy and genuinely smiling, like a friend just said something hilarious about a memory you both forgot.
- The “Come Along For the Ride” Shot: Something that hints at your interests—holding a book, hiking a trail, playing an instrument (extra points if you’re bad at it).
- The Group Shot (With Boundaries): A photo with friends or family, but y’all, don’t let it be so cluttered people can’t tell who you are. (And no exes, duh.)

Your photo lineup should highlight pieces of your life you’d want someone to ask you about. Not just “this is me standing near an ironic mural,” but “this is me, mid-Saturday stroll, the best version of myself!”

Know When to Swipe Offline

Here's some friendly Southern wisdom: Online dating works best when you treat it like a bridge, not the final destination. Putting infinite energy into perfecting your bio can only take you so far—because the real magic happens offline. Whether it’s meeting for coffee at your local dive or spontaneously grabbing tickets to some weird event (bless Alabama and its love of niche festivals), leaning into the spontaneous will always outshine a perfectly worded profile.

Connection—real, lasting connection—comes from shared moments, not shared bullet points. Because, as much as I’ve learned to love the art of crafting a one-liner bio, my favorite dates are the messy, unexpected ones you couldn’t plan if you tried. Like when we ended up in the middle of an antique auction neither of us understood but decided to try bidding on a lamp for laughs. (We won. It’s hideous, but it makes a great story.)

The Takeaway

Ultimately, what changed for me that day in my Montgomery apartment was realizing that love isn’t found in some picture-perfect version of myself. It’s found in the pieces of me that are unpolished, passionate, and sometimes, honestly, a little chaotic. And when I started leading with those parts, everything else followed.

So, here’s the best advice I can give you today: Embrace the quirks, be as specific as a momma at a PTA meeting, and lead with your truest self. Somewhere out there is someone searching for exactly who you are—Southern charm, board game feuds, and all. Now, get out there and let your soul shine.