The Moment It All Clicked

I was seven years old, sitting cross-legged on the cool wooden floors of my grandparents’ house in Beijing. My grandfather handed me a book of Tang Dynasty poetry and pointed to a line by Li Bai: “The moon is bright, and it shines on my cup of wine. I lift my cup and invite the moon to join me...”

At the time, I didn’t fully understand the weight of those words. But something about the image of a man sipping wine with the moon—a companion he could never truly reach—fascinated me. It was both romantic and achingly lonely, a paradox that felt too big for my small body to hold. That day, words stopped being just tools—they became bridges to emotions I hadn’t yet experienced and worlds I didn’t yet know.

Fast-forward a couple of decades, and here I am: someone who fell utterly, hopelessly in love with storytelling. But, like any good romance, this relationship has seen its ups and downs.

Love At First Draft

When I was nine, I wrote my first “novel” in a school notebook. It was five pages long and featured a brave rabbit fighting to save her carrot farm from invading squirrels. Not exactly War and Peace, but it was my first taste of shaping characters and worlds—tiny gods scribbling with a no. 2 pencil.

By university, I had swapped rabbits for star-crossed lovers, writing historical romance novels inspired by the rich tapestry of Chinese history. It seemed fitting, growing up in a household where dinner-table discussions about Confucian philosophy were as common as arguments over whether Marco Polo really brought noodles to Italy.

But while romance was my subject, my passion ran deeper than rose petals and love letters. I wanted to understand why people connect—or fail to. Why we chase an ideal, knowing full well it might elude us, like Li Bai inviting the moon to drink wine.

The Modern Tension

Living in two worlds—China and the U.S.—only deepened my obsession. Dating scenes couldn’t be more different. In Beijing, a first date often includes detailed discussions about marriage timelines and parental expectations (pro tip: avoid mentioning your “hobbies” if they include anything remotely frivolous). In New York, dates feel like auditions for an indie film: casual, ambiguous, and potentially meaningless.

In both cultures, though, I saw the same struggle. People wanted something real, but they often stood in their own way. We love playing chess with the heart—waiting three days to text back, ghosting because we’re afraid of our feelings, swiping past someone who likes pineapple on pizza. Modern romance is a battlefield, but instead of warriors, we’re armed with emojis and “Netflix and chill.”

The Passion That Drives Me

So, what keeps me going? Why do I spend hours crafting stories and articles about love, connection, and tangled feelings? Because falling in love with words taught me one of life’s most valuable lessons: whether it’s with a person, a craft, or simply yourself, passion is an anchor in an ever-changing world.

But as much as I adore poetry and novels, writing about dating has a singular joy. It’s messy, funny, and universal. Whether you’re a poet in Tang China or a graduate student in 2023 scrolling Instagram, love is a language everyone speaks.

Here’s what I’ve learned along the way:

1. Love Your Flaws First

I’ll confess—I was terrified to write this article because I assumed it needed to be perfect. But here’s the thing: perfection is a myth. Whether it’s creative work or a first date, embracing what’s imperfect about you makes space for connection. For me, this means owning up to my misplaced commas and occasional bouts of imposter syndrome. Maybe for you, it’s that you snort when you laugh or have an embarrassing playlist full of early 2000s emo hits. (Don’t worry, we’re all secretly blasting Simple Plan in our cars.)

2. Stop Searching for “The Recipe”

If you’ve ever Googled “how to show someone you’re interested without looking desperate,” welcome to the party. When I moved to New York, I devoured every article promising to decode Western dating culture. Much to my disappointment, there is no perfect formula. Not for dating, not for writing. The best you can do is show up with an open heart, your true self, and maybe a small offering of food (dumplings are always a winner).

3. Passion is Contagious

Passion draws people in. Write because you love it, flirt because it’s fun, connect because it fulfills you. I’ll never forget attending a book signing where the author spoke about her love of baking bread. As she talked about dough rising and flour dust on her apron, her enthusiasm was almost magnetic. The same principle applies to romance. Passion—whether for art, science, or sourdough starters—makes you glow. Let it shine.

Romance, With Others and Yourself

A few years ago, someone asked me, “What’s the hardest part of writing romance novels?” The hardest part? Remembering to believe in love myself. Writing countless stories about devotion and heartbreak doesn’t make you immune to the modern world’s cynicism. But here’s the truth I’ve landed on: what keeps love alive—whether on the page or in life—is the willingness to risk it all.

Whether you’re texting the person who might be “the one,” pouring your soul into a creative project, or simply trying to figure out what makes your heart leap, it’s okay to feel scared. It’s okay to risk being embarrassed. Passion—and love—are worth it, even when they leave you staring at your ceiling, wondering if this is all a terrible mistake.

A Love Letter To You

There’s a scene in When Harry Met Sally where Harry tells Sally, “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” I feel the same about loving yourself and chasing your passions. There’s no need to delay, no reason to wait until you’re “ready.” That passion in your chest? That’s your signal to jump.

For me, it started with a book of poetry and a fascination with the man raising his cup to the moon. For you, maybe it’s a smell, a song, a face in the crowd. Whatever it is, lean in. The heart is vast and strong, and while the world will try to tell you otherwise, it has room for every kind of love. Even the slightly messy, imperfect, fiercely personal one that starts with you.