“Ugh, you must be so romantic,” or, “Wow, does that mean you’re a love guru or something?” These are the kinds of things people say when I tell them I work at a publication about dating and relationships. Cue the chuckle-snort-laugh and some awkward small talk where I try to explain my job without making it sound like I lurk in the shadows observing couples to write my next big exposé (I don’t—promise!).

The thing is, most people get my job totally wrong. Either they assume I sit around playing Cupid with a fountain pen and a red beret, or they imagine I spend my days analyzing every text I send to make sure I’m applying my “expertise” to personal relationships. So, let’s clear the air. If you’ve ever been curious about what it’s like to write about love for a living, sit back and let me bust some myths while spilling a little tea on what it’s actually like behind the scenes.

Myth #1: “You Always Have the Perfect Relationship”

Ah, the big one. People think that because I write about relationships, mine must be flawless. Like I’m floating through life wrapped in gauzy rom-com lighting, trading witty banter with a partner who looks like a human golden retriever. Hate to disappoint, but spoiler alert: I’ve forgotten to text back, overanalyzed a cryptic emoji, and once cried into a burrito because of a misunderstanding.

Here’s the truth: Writing about relationships doesn’t mean you’re immune to the messy, unpredictable rollercoaster that is love. In fact, having the occasional trainwreck of a date or experiencing the inevitable growing pains of commitment makes me better at my job. Because let’s be real—no one wants advice from someone whose only experience with “conflict” is accidentally over-ordering guacamole during a date night.

What I’ve learned instead is this: Falling on your face occasionally is part of the process. Relationships require vulnerability, patience, and, surprise, the willingness to laugh at yourself when things go sideways. Sorry, Hollywood, but a montage with a glittery Taylor Swift soundtrack isn’t coming to save me (or you). And that’s okay.

Myth #2: “You Must Spend All Day Analyzing Pickup Lines”

Let me set the record straight: I do not sit in a candlelit room with a notepad, grading phrases like, “Are you from Tennessee? Because you’re the only 10 I see.” No judgment if that’s your go-to (hey, if it works, it works), but being a dating writer isn’t just about dissecting what works on Tinder or orchestrating the “perfect” meet-cute. It’s about so much more than that.

This job requires exploring the heart of human connection. Why do we gravitate toward certain people? How do our cultural backgrounds, childhood experiences, and personal values shape the way we love? Questions like these are where the magic happens. Sure, we’ll sprinkle in fun stuff because, let’s face it, who doesn’t love a cheeky headline like “Texting Red Flags That’ll Have You Ghosting Faster Than a Spooky Season Marathon?” But, beneath the humor is a commitment to helping people understand how and why we engage the way we do—whether that’s through love languages, attachment styles, or what your zodiac sign says about your flirting game.

The coolest part? This is also where my own cultural background and the collective wisdom of my colleagues come into play. I lean on the teachings I grew up with—like how relationships are seen as partnerships, not a hierarchy—as well as stories from friends and readers to craft advice that actually resonates. It’s less about “pickup artistry” and more about digging into the real, raw stuff that helps people build something substantial.

Myth #3: “Everyone Comes to You for Love Advice”

Confession: I do get a lot of random DMs. You know the kind—“Hey, so my ex just liked my dog’s Instagram post after three months of no contact. What do you think it means?” Always a classic. I’ll tell you this much: Working in this field doesn’t mean I have every answer, but I’ve learned the critical difference between dishing out unsolicited advice and actually listening to what someone needs.

Take my closest friends, for instance. They joke that I’m their “emotional SWAT team,” but most of my job in those moments isn’t spouting theories or trends. It’s reminding them they already have the tools to navigate whatever’s in front of them. Sometimes, they don’t need professional insight—they just want me to sit in their corner and validate that, yes, their situationship is, in fact, the worst thing since someone thought bucket hats deserved a revival. (I said what I said.)

Instead of always playing therapist (or matchmaker), my job has taught me to hold space for people and their unique paths. Love isn’t a one-size-fits-all gig; it’s a choose-your-own-adventure book no one gets the full spoiler sheet for. And that? That’s what makes it so exhilarating, frustrating, and beautifully human.

Myth #4: “It’s All Glitz, Glam, and Endless Romance”

If you think writing about relationships is a glamorous job filled with candlelit interviews and fab dinner dates, allow me to burst that bubble gently. No—I don’t spend my days sipping champagne and analyzing Harrison Ford movies for clues on eternal love (though...not a bad hobby, honestly).

More often than not, I’m drafting content in gym clothes, dissecting behavioral studies, or diving down weird internet rabbit holes to piece together cultural insights. One week, I’m geeking out on a centuries-old wedding tradition from a nearby culture; the next, I’m knee-deep in research about why different generations wield sarcasm like a weapon in text conversations. And sometimes (just sometimes), I am Googling how to explain a breakup without sounding like Adele and Hugh Grant wrote it together. It’s a lot less poetic than people imagine.

What keeps me going though is the knowledge that someone, somewhere, might read a piece I’ve worked on and feel like they’re a little less alone. I thrive on the idea that this work doesn’t just romanticize love—it deconstructs and rebuilds it into something approachable, honest, and inclusive of the mess.

So, What’s the Actual Takeaway Here?

If working in the wonderful, tangled world of dating and relationships has taught me anything, it’s this: Love isn’t about perfection. It’s not about gimmicky rom-com tropes or Instagram-worthy moments. And my job? It’s not about telling people how to live or love—it’s about empowering them to figure that out for themselves.

The truth is that writing about love is less about finding the “answers” and more about learning to ask the right questions. It’s about recognizing that even though our lives, cultures, and priorities may differ wildly, the desire to connect is universal. Exploring those nuances? That’s where the gold is.

And if you’re wondering about that ex who liked your dog’s Instagram post? It probably doesn’t mean anything. But hey, follow your gut...and maybe keep an eye on the charts for Mercury retrograde. You never know.