Lessons I Wish I Knew Earlier

It’s funny how life has this way of teaching you exactly what you need to know, only after you’ve spectacularly fumbled the opportunity to use it. Dating, relationships, love—whatever you want to call it—tends to operate on this same frustrating principle. For years, I felt like a hapless protagonist in my own off-Broadway rom-com, dodging red flags like they were tomato-sauce stains for a white satin dress I’d never wear. And yet, for all the facepalms and missteps, dating taught me more about myself than practically any museum ever could.

Here are the lessons I wish my younger self had absorbed far earlier (but wouldn’t have, because hubris tastes much sweeter than humility).

1. Stop Perfecting Your “Cool Girl” Audition

Let’s get one thing clear: you’re not auditioning for a part in someone’s life. And if you are playing a part, do us all a favor and exit stage left. I spent a solid decade deploying my most charming “unbothered” persona. You know the one—laughing at jokes that didn’t land, pretending to love horror films when I’d much rather be watching the National Gallery's livestream of a Turner painting restoration, and claiming I was “so chill” when, in reality, I was harboring Olympic-level emotional analysis about every text message.

What I’ve learned? The person who’s truly for you will be captivated by the whole messy, unabridged truth of you. Witty banter is fun, but let’s not confuse it with actual vulnerability. Trying to be the “perfect fit” often results in you cutting pieces of yourself away to fit their puzzle. Spoiler alert: it never works. The most interesting people—the ones worth dating—aren’t looking for “chill.” They’re intrigued by honesty, quirks, and, yes, even that weirdly specific obsession with Degas’ ballerinas that you think would scare people off.

2. “Consistency is Sexy” Should Be a Bumper Sticker

Here’s one I learned the hard way: inconsistency is not romantic. It is not mysterious, alluring, or evidence of enchanting emotional complexity. It’s exhausting, and it’s a red flag in neon lights that screams, “Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.”

Confession time: I once dated a man who referred to me as “his muse” but could never remember my birthday. He’d take me on whimsical dates to obscure art-house cinemas, then vanish for a week with no explanation. At the time, I filled in the silences with elaborate excuses for his behavior—he’s a tortured artist! He’s brooding, busy, inaccessible! In truth, he was just careless, and I was willfully ignoring the glaring discrepancy between his words and actions.

Here’s the reality: real intrigue, real attraction, comes from someone who shows up consistently. Someone who texts when they say they will, treats your time and feelings with care, and makes you feel like their priority rather than their pastime. Passion is delightful, but reliability? Reader, that’s forever art gallery material.

3. Love Isn’t Earned by Self-Squashing

A younger (more people-pleasing) me would bend like a reed in the wind to accommodate someone else’s preferences. He dislikes Italian food? Sure, I’ll pretend I can subsist on bland kale wraps. He feels weird about PDA? Great, I’ll stash all my affection in some corner of my soul for safekeeping. I mistakenly believed love was about shrinking myself into a convenient carry-on bag, doing everything in my power to mold myself into something easier to “accept.”

But, oh, darling. Love isn’t acceptance. Love is celebration. And there’s a vast difference between the two. The right person doesn’t merely tolerate your peculiarities—they celebrate them. They’ll know how much your face lights up at the mention of Tuscany and will actively feed your dream rather than scoff and prioritize their insular ambitions. On a recent trip to Provence (yes, I live for a European getaway), a couple strolling through a lavender field couldn’t stop laughing at seemingly nothing. They weren’t dialing down their personalities for one another. They were dialed all the way up—vivid, spontaneous, perfectly themselves. That’s what real love feels like.

4. Silence Speaks Louder Than Any Profession of Love

Ah, silence—a weapon feigned as indifference but wielded with surgical precision. If I could mail younger me a warning note, it would read: “Watch his actions, not his words.” Because people will say anything, but their actions tend to reveal the truth.

Let me revisit the time I dated an investment banker who technically lived five blocks away but somehow never had time to see me. He’d articulate elaborate promises—weekends in the Hamptons, gallery strolls, candlelit dinners—none of which ever came to fruition. I used to hold these promises close, like a soon-to-arrive bouquet of peonies. But they were just petals floating in the wind, doomed to never land.

The takeaway? If their promises don’t translate into action within, let’s say, two lunar cycles (a poetic way of saying two months), it’s time to disconnect Wi-Fi and unsubscribe. Grand gestures are less meaningful than their ability to show up and fold themselves into the fabric of your daily life.

5. Compromise Doesn’t Mean Betraying Yourself

“Relationships are about compromise,” they say. And yes, that’s true—but compromise is not synonymous with self-abandonment. The issue is, no one actually hands you a manual on healthy compromise. They don’t tell you where to draw the line between “meeting in the middle” and “meeting in their territory while you get stranded over there without snacks.”

Compromise, I’ve learned, is like curating a museum exhibit in partnership with someone else. Both of you get to contribute your prized pieces, and together you create something cohesive and beautiful. What you don’t do is let them hang Picasso and Velázquez while they shove your cherished Monet into storage. The second someone’s priorities, hobbies, or well-being outweigh your own 90% of the time, it ceases to be a collaboration and becomes a takeover.

6. Your Fantasy of Them Is Not Reality

Let’s talk about the sneaky, dangerous interplay of imagination and infatuation. I’ve fallen for countless versions of people who only existed in my head. There was a novelist who didn’t like discussing books, a sculptor who had no patience for beauty in everyday life, and even a painter who thought museums were “pretentious.” I charmingly overlooked massive incompatibilities because I was so busy enhancing them with mental airbrushing.

The lesson here is simple, though hard to swallow: You’re dating a person, not their potential. Admire the ambition of a start-up founder, but don’t set the entire Museum of Modern Art on fire trying to make a sculpture out of unformed clay. If someone’s incapable of meeting you where you are, they’re not going to magically transform because you’re charming, supportive, or overly accommodating.

7. Self-Love Is Not Just a Buzzword

It’s cliché and sounds suspiciously like what wellness influencers peddle alongside jade face rollers, but self-love genuinely underpins every successful relationship—or at least every one I’ve ever encountered. The paradox is kind of lovely: when you’re at home in yourself, when you’ve wandered the vast gallery of your own values, dreams, and quirks, you stop needing someone else to validate you. And not needing validation? That’s wildly attractive.

Take the time to romance yourself first. Buy the flowers. Take yourself to a concert. Stroll through your favorite urban garden or scenic overlook. Fill the corners of your own life so full that when someone enters it, it feels like a meaningful addition, not the finishing piece of a puzzle already complete.

Conclusion: Write Your Own Love Story

Dating in some ways feels like cherishing an abstract Jackson Pollock piece—chaotic, meaningful, unique to the observer. But the true masterpiece is the one you create with someone who sees you for all that you are, in full vibrant color.

So here’s the takeaway, dear reader: stop waiting for someone else to supply the frame. You are already a work of art.