I’ll admit it upfront: My career does not scream "mystique." Staff writer for an online publication about dating and relationships? It’s not the stuff of rom-com montages or gritty prestige dramas. There's no soundtrack of soulful indie ballads playing while I scribble out heart-stopping truths about human connection. Spoiler: Most of my job is powered by mediocre coffee and the sheer willpower of one Southern woman who's way too obsessed with storytelling. But if you’ve ever wondered what people like me actually do—and what everyone seems to get hilariously wrong about us—pull up a chair. Let’s unravel the misconceptions, one myth at a time.

Myth #1: “You must be the queen of love! I bet your dating life is flawless.”

Oh, bless your heart.

There’s a running joke that anyone dishing out dating advice must be living some Love Actually-worthy romance. To which I say: Have we met? Sure, I write cogent articles about communication strategies and the sweetness of vulnerability, but let’s remember that even the best coaches don’t have perfect jump shots (looking at you, Ted Lasso). I’ve had dates so awkward they haunt me like Southern humidity: that time a guy talked about his ex the entire time as if I were his therapist; or when someone spent 45 minutes explaining the complex world of craft beer brewing while I nodded like a bobblehead. Romance writer I may be, but love guru I am not.

Real talk—my best material often comes from the messy bits of my own life. Every awkward dinner, misinterpreted text, or slightly-too-enthusiastic crush is just fodder for stories (changed names included, of course). I think it’s important that those of us writing about love also live out its cringiest, most absurd, and yes, loveliest moments. If we didn’t? We’d just be spinning out Hallmark card clichés, and nobody has time for that.

Myth #2: “So, you just... sit around writing about holding hands all day?”

What a dreamy thought, right? I picture myself lounging beneath a magnolia tree, penning lyrical love stories while soaking up the scent of honeysuckle. Reality check: The work is a bit more... caffeinated than that.

Writing about dating is rarely as whimsical as it sounds. Sure, there are days when I'm rolling through charming metaphors about the art of flirting, but most of my time is spent digging for the truth. And let me tell y’all something about truth—it’s slippery. Writing meaningful pieces requires research, reflection, and sometimes scrutinizing my own assumptions about relationships. Some days, I’m combing through data on communication habits; others, I’m collecting anecdotes that blend humor and heartache. You think I came up with “From Flirt to Familiar” out of thin air? Nope—that took scribbling on Post-It Notes until my desk looked like a scene out of A Beautiful Mind.

And let’s not forget deadlines. Everyone assumes I get to work at my own pace, sipping sweet tea with my feet kicked up. Honey, no. Sometimes I’m pushing through writer’s block like a single woman swiping past a string of profiles that begin with “Looking for my queen.” The pressure only makes it sweeter when something I write truly connects with y’all.

Myth #3: “It’s just lighthearted fluff, right? Nothing too deep.”

I get it. It’s tempting to think of dating content as cotton candy for the soul: sweet, fun, but not exactly nourishing. However, relationships are far more complex than they appear, and writing about them requires more than cute lists of date ideas and empathetic pep talks.

Let’s remember: relationships aren’t all roses and rom-com finales—they’re also built on conflict resolution, courage, and facing your own baggage in the mirror. My job isn’t just about serving up the fun, flirty stuff; it’s about creating meaningful content that helps people reflect on their choices. Take a recent piece I wrote about breakups—at first glance, it might look just like another “here’s how to move on” article. But crafting those tips (maintain healthy boundaries! Allow yourself to grieve!) means pulling from psychology research, interviewing therapists, and revisiting my own heartbreaks. I want readers to feel seen, like a friend who catches your teary-eyed confession and says, “You’re going to be okay—and here’s how I know.”

So, no, it’s not fluff. It’s nuanced. It’s shared humanity. Occasionally, it’s spilling my guts about the time I ugly-cried to Adele while journaling post-heartbreak. It’s a tapestry of all the little ways we connect.

Myth #4: “You’re just dishing out advice like Dr. Phil.”

Y’all, let me make this clear: I am not out here diagnosing anyone’s attachment wounds or assigning love languages like some kind of relationship referee. The last thing I’m trying to be is a pseudo-therapist. What I do is more like giving a friend advice over a good slice of pecan pie: low-key, comforting, and nonjudgmental.

Here’s the thing about offering advice—it’s not about getting someone to follow a perfect formula to fix their relationship woes. It’s about conversation. It’s about helping people realize their power to understand themselves and their partners better. I’m not here to boss anyone’s love life around; I’m here to turn the light on and remind folks, “Hey, you’re more capable than you think.”

Also, side note: if you must imagine me as a reality TV personality doling out advice, think less Dr. Phil, more queer eye Bobby Berk. Supporting others doesn’t mean sitting them down for a dramatic intervention—it means showing up with warmth, clarity, and a dash of gumption.

Myth #5: “Does anyone even need advice about dating these days?”

Oh, love, have you met the internet? The sheer abundance of advice, hot takes, and listicles floating around out there can be overwhelming—and contradictory. On a good day, a quick Google search will leave you with five think pieces that insist ghosting is emotional terrorism and ten that argue it’s just modern convenience. (Is it, though? Discuss.)

People come to publications like this one because we don’t just dump advice and leave. Our goal is to say: “Hey, we’ve actually walked through this. Here’s what works, and here’s what doesn’t.” My work isn’t just about telling people what to do—it’s about giving them tools to figure it out for themselves. When someone tells me one of my articles made them feel a little more confident, or a little more seen? That’s when I know it’s all worth it. In a world full of swiping and scrolling, let me be the voice cheering you on in the background.

So, What’s the Truth?

The truth is, my job is a patchwork of everything I love—researching, storytelling, and connecting with people (even if sometimes those “people” are me revisiting my own bad date stories). It’s messy, funny, frustrating, and deeply rewarding. It’s helping someone laugh at the absurdities of modern dating while nudging them to keep showing up for themselves. It’s about saying, “Yeah, it’s hard out there—but I’m rooting for you.”

Yes, it’s a job that comes with its share of stereotypes. But those myths? They’re just proof that love, in all its complicated glory, still captures our curiosity. And if busting them means I get to write about the things that make us human—awkward first dates, weird text exchanges, kisses that make your heart stutter—then count me in. After all, real connection is messy. Isn’t that what makes it so worth writing about?