Introduction: Hard Lessons, Southern Style

When it comes to love, they say hindsight is 20/20. If that's true, then my younger self might as well have been stumbling around blindfolded in a dark room, grasping for a light switch that wasn’t even there. Looking back now, I see all the times I tripped over my own insecurities, misread the signs, or tried to mold myself into exactly what I thought someone else wanted. Spoiler alert: none of those things worked.

Here’s what I do know—love and relationships are messy, beautiful, and just as much about learning who you are as they are about getting to know someone else. So if you’re somewhere in the middle of your own relationship saga, here are a few lessons I wish I’d learned before I went full “Gone with the Wind” drama queen. Trust me, they would’ve saved me a lot of worry, a lot of heartbreak, and at least a few of those “what did I just say!?” moments.

1. Stop Trying to Be the Cool Girl.

Blame 2014's "Gone Girl" or every romantic comedy from the late '90s, but for years I thought the key to someone’s heart was being mysterious, effortless, and just unavailable enough to keep them guessing. Spoiler alert: “the Cool Girl” is not a real person. She’s a mirage that will leave you simultaneously exhausted and mildly offended with yourself for pretending to like EDM or “not really caring” about where this is going.

When I met someone I liked, I’d downplay what I wanted—oh, I’m totally fine with just “seeing where this goes”—because I thought that would make me more appealing. News flash: that uncertainty often comes across as disinterest, and worse, it doesn’t honor what you’re actually looking for. I learned the hard way that it’s possible to be both likable and, you know, an actual person. If you don’t want to go hiking at sunrise or sit through yet another Quentin Tarantino marathon for the third date in a row, just say so. It’s better to be real than to be a cardboard cutout.

2. Your Guts Aren’t Just for Digestion—Trust Them.

Y’all, this one hits home because Southern women are raised on politeness. We’re taught early on to give people the benefit of the doubt, even when our inner voice is red-flagging louder than a roadside BBQ joint still using "New Management" banners. Here’s the truth: paying attention to red flags doesn’t make you rude or judgmental—it makes you smart.

I once dated a guy who never wanted to plan anything in advance and called all his exes “crazy.” Did I think that was odd? Sure. Did I brush it off? Of course. I convinced myself I just needed to “give it time,” even though my gut already knew disaster was on deck. Spoiler alert: the disaster came.

Your intuition isn’t always shouting or waving a neon sign. Sometimes it’s that nagging feeling you can’t shake, like you’re sitting in church trying to remember the last time you truly tuned into the sermon. Trust yourself to know when something—or someone—just doesn’t sit right.

3. Compatibility Is Not the Same Thing as Chemistry.

Oh, the sparks! The butterflies! The way they made me feel like the lead in a Nicholas Sparks book-turned-movie filmed on-location in South Carolina. Chemistry can make you high, sure, but it also burns out faster than a scented candle from the dollar store if there’s no compatibility to back it up.

I once fell head over heels for a guy after a particularly memorable karaoke night involving “Sweet Caroline” and the kind of shoulder dancing that only happens after two glasses of wine. We were fire on the dance floor and deeply boring off of it. He didn’t find my obsession with local history “charming,” and I didn’t understand his fascination with stock market trends—all we had was our duet, and that wasn’t nearly enough to build something lasting.

The sustainable kind of love—the kind that feels like both home and an adventure—only happens when you share values, make each other laugh, and are genuinely excited to do life together, not just a few fun nights at the bar.

4. People Show You Who They Are. Believe Them.

You’ve probably heard this Maya Angelou wisdom before, but if you're anything like me, you may have ignored it to your own detriment. Trust me, I spent too long trying to explain away certain behaviors the same way I try to justify buying another sundress I don’t need: “Maybe it’ll look different in the right light.” Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

When someone tells you they “don’t really want a relationship right now,” that’s not code for “convince me.” When they consistently cancel plans last minute or keep you waiting hours for a text back, they’re showing you their priorities. Pay attention. Believing you can “fix” someone or change their mind is like throwing flour on a nearly-done casserole and expecting it to magically rise—it’s just not happening.

5. You’re Not a “Bother” for Standing Up for Yourself.

I used to avoid confrontation at all costs, treating discomfort in my relationships like a pecan pie that needs a little more sugar—“It’ll be fine as long as I don’t stir it up.” Turns out, that just leads to resentment or worse, exploding like a high school science fair volcano because you’ve bottled everything up too long.

No one worth being with will make you feel like an inconvenience for bringing up what’s bothering you. You deserve to be heard—not in a loud, dramatic way, but in a constructive, honest, “here’s what I need to feel good about this partnership” way. You’re not a nag, you’re an adult. And also, boundaries are sexy. Who knew?

6. You Are Not “Too Much.” You Are Enough.

Perhaps the most liberating realization of all: if someone makes you feel like you’re “too sensitive,” “too passionate,” “too much” of anything, they’re not your person. The right person won’t shrink from your big laugh, your weirdly specific knowledge of Montgomery ghost stories, or your propensity to cry during Folgers holiday commercials.

For years, I tried to temper myself—be the quieter version, the less curious version, the easier version—because I thought that’s what love required. But love, the good kind, never asks you to diminish who you are. It invites you to grow into the fullest, brightest version of yourself, imperfections and “too” moments included.

Conclusion: Embrace the Learning Curve

Here’s the thing: relationships aren’t supposed to be figured out overnight. They’re like making grandma’s biscuits—you’re going to overwork the dough a few times, maybe forget the buttermilk altogether before you get it just right. The good news is, every heartache and “what was I thinking?” story is a step toward figuring out what works for you, and who you’re meant to be with.

So give yourself some grace as you keep learning, making mistakes, and growing into the kind of love you really deserve. Because if my hindsight is 20/20, then my foresight says you’re bound for something sweet—and worth every lesson along the way.