How I Accidentally Discovered My Purpose

It Started With a Really Bad Date

You know those dates that are so awkward, so colossally “what-am-I-doing-here?” bad that they make you question every decision that led you to that regrettable moment? I don’t just mean canceling plans to be there—I mean questioning your entire life trajectory.

Mine happened on a rainy Tuesday night in Montreal. I had agreed to meet a man named Antoine (he gets a name because he inspired...well, a lot). He was good-looking in that brooding, let-me-read-you-my-poetry kind of way, which I admit now was the real red flag. We ended up at a dimly lit café where he sipped an espresso dramatically (was he waiting for a standing ovation?) and unleashed a monologue that sounded less like conversation and more like a performance art piece.

“Love,” he said, narrowing his eyes as though inspecting my soul, “is an illusion we chase because society fears true solitude.”

Right. It was one of those dates.

The more he talked, the less interested I became in him, and instead, a question started bouncing around my mind: Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we pour so much energy into trying to connect with someone else when honest self-connection feels so rare?

Somewhere between his fifth use of the word “existential” and an unsolicited haiku about an uncaring universe, I started to answer my own question.

A Light Bulb Moment Through Coffee Stains

The “aha!” moment didn’t come in an Instagram-worthy flash, but in a slower, messier way. That night, I walked home—umbrella-less in the rainline cliché—and mulled over what I felt was missing, not just from that date but from so many I’d been on before.

Here’s the thing: Even though Antoine was insufferable, what stuck out wasn’t that he was the villain in my dating story—it was that I walked into these dates without a clear sense of my own purpose. I was treating connection like a goalpost instead of exploring it as a practice. Rather than asking myself what I wanted, I was throwing darts and hoping it landed on some magical “this is it” feeling.

And suddenly, the answer to what I wanted appeared—and it wasn’t him. Instead, it was something as clear and comforting as the smell of fresh baked baguettes: I wanted to understand relationships—not just in dating, but as a bigger, messier, universal part of being human.

In accidentally realizing what wasn’t working in my own life, I had stumbled onto what I was meant to actually pursue: figuring out the science, the intricacies, and even the awkward hilarity of connection.

From Flirts to Failures: The Great Experiment

Armed with a notebook and an overconfidence typically reserved for people who say things like, “I read one Wikipedia page on quantum physics,” I approached dating and relationships like a researcher in their laboratory. My goal was to figure out how relationships worked—and why they sometimes didn’t—with the same curiosity I once reserved for finding the best poutine in all of Montreal.

Over the next few months, I wasn’t just dating anymore; I was observing. What worked? What didn’t? Why did some coffee-date conversations flow like a Céline Dion ballad while others felt more like awkward karaoke night auditions?

It wasn’t just about dating, either. I started noticing that the same dynamics popped up in friendships, family bonds, and even professional relationships. Everything boiled down to understanding yourself first and being able to clearly define what you wanted, not through trial and error (though there was plenty of that), but through listening to your own intuition.

Some discoveries hit harder than others:

  • The Power of Boundaries: Turns out, saying “no” is not only a complete sentence, but also the sexiest one in your vocabulary.
  • Confidence Isn’t Loud: Real confidence feels less like shouting “I’m amazing!” and more like quietly knowing you’re enough, even when someone doesn’t text back.
  • People Are Mirrors: Positive or negative, you’re going to see parts of yourself in the people you invite into your life. Own it.

The Unlikely Teacher in Antoine

And here’s the kicker: Antoine—yes, espresso-sipping Antoine—was an accidental part of all this. His nonsensical musings rattled me enough to self-reflect and shift my sense of purpose.

It’s wild to think about, but sometimes the people who leave no lasting place in your life still play a starring role in the plot twist you didn’t see coming. Antoine wasn’t the one—far from it—but he was the catalyst.

It’s a comforting thought, really: Even the most uninspired, terrible dates can have unexpected value.

Practicing Purpose—Daily

If you’re wondering, “Well, what does this look like practically?” here’s the advice I wish I had back then when I was searching for my purpose through lattes and passive-aggressive small talk:

  1. Ask Yourself What You Actually Want (Without the Noise): Do this before you sit down for that next coffee or even before you swipe right. Your purpose—romantic or otherwise—starts there.

  2. Pay Attention, Always: To yourself, to others, to the way your energy shifts in certain situations. Self-awareness is where every great connection begins.

  3. Lean Into Failure: My “failure” date with Antoine? High-key, a win in disguise. Flip the script and see lessons wherever you can. It’s not failure; it’s information.

Taking Dating to the Next Level of Purpose

A lot of people think purpose is this grand thing you only arrive at after years of soul-searching on a solo trip through Europe. (I lived in Paris for a year, and trust me, solo trips mostly involve poorly timed emotional breakdowns in gorgeous, scenic locations.)

But if I’ve learned anything, it’s this: Purpose is built daily. You find it in the trenches—on awkward dates, in talks with friends, during quiet moments of self-reflection. You learn it through missteps, through wondering if love is really an illusion or (more accurately) just terribly marketed.

And if you’re lucky, you sit still long enough to realize the thing you’ve been searching for has been there all along. You’ve just been too busy sipping espresso to notice.

In the end, it wasn’t about Antoine, or bad dates, or running umbrella-free through the Plateau in the rain. It was about connecting to something bigger—namely myself.

What happened after that? You’ll have to wait for my next book.

Until then, keep flirting, keep failing, keep finding your purpose, one coffee date at a time.