The beat of D.C. has shaped me in more ways than I can count—and not just because I can still do the complete choreography to Junkyard Band’s “Sardines.” Growing up in northeast D.C., love and connection came with a rhythm—equal parts go-go drums, car horns on Georgia Avenue, and the sound of my father sanding wood in the garage late into the night. My neighborhood wasn’t the glossy, postcard version visitors see now. Back then, it was the kind of place where you could smell jerk chicken on every other block, where stoop conversations stretched into the evening, and where everyone knew that the only unacceptable side dish at a block party was weak potato salad. It was a city that taught me how to read roomfuls of people, to pay attention to the nuances of body language and unspoken words—skills that, strangely enough, made me better at both navigating relationships and avoiding awkward first dates.

But let me break this down properly for you. Because if I’ve learned anything from life here, it’s this: the place that made me is also the blueprint for how I move through life, love, and everything in between.

The Art of Window-Checking (and Why It Still Matters in Relationships)

D.C. people all know the sacred ritual of window-checking. Before unlocking your car, you glance over each window to make sure nothing looks too “invitation-worthy” to passing thieves. Call it security or just a sign you know your environment, but that habit builds intuition—a radar for potential chaos. And, honestly, dating in adulthood is no different.

When I first started dating seriously, I realized how crucial it is to pause and “check the windows” with people. Do their words match their actions? Are they humblebragging about their ex who still calls them, or worse, playing the victim to every messy breakup? Sometimes, like that gym bag left in plain view on a car seat, the red flags are right there, out in the open—you just have to look.

D.C. taught me to see what’s beneath the surface. And while relationships require trust, there’s power in listening to your instincts. Just like the city, love can be complicated. But a bit of discernment can keep you from waking up to that “smashed window” energy.

Love Languages Go-Go Style: Finding Joy in the Noise

Growing up with go-go music as my cultural anthem, D.C. gifted me a brilliant metaphor for dating: relationships should hit like a go-go breakdown. Hear me out—every track eventually builds to a part where the band strips away everything, leaving drums and raw rhythm. It’s the heartbeat of the music. That's where joy lives.

Likewise, every relationship should have a breakdown moment—not in the "we’re about to break up" way, but in the “let’s get real with each other” kind of way. Stripped down to who we are, beyond Instagram filters or first-date personas. I learned this the hard way in college, after dating someone who spoke fluent poetry but couldn’t hold eye contact during tough conversations. They dazzled me with metaphors but couldn’t show up for the messy, unscripted moments.

In the best relationships, there’s a rhythm—a joy that thrives when the fluff is gone. Compatibility isn’t just chemistry over tapas; it’s openly discussing who you are without decorations. Find the person who loves your breakdown beat.

Stoop Culture: Listening as an Act of Love

Let’s talk about stoop culture—a hallmark of any D.C. upbringing. The stoop was where you eavesdropped on your aunties gossiping about the church or joined forced debates about why mumbo sauce deserves UNESCO World Heritage status. Stoop time wasn’t just idle chatter; it was a stage for storytelling and absorbing wisdom you didn’t even realize you needed.

The lesson here? Stepping back and listening will always matter. On the stoop, no one expects you to perform; it’s about joining the bigger rhythm of conversation when it’s your time. That’s a lesson I’ve carried into relationships. Sometimes, love isn’t about grand gestures or perfectly worded texts—it’s about showing up and being fully present. Whether that means locking in during your partner’s midweek rant about an annoying coworker or quietly holding their hand when they need to process tough emotions, intentional listening can mean everything.

When the City Tests You: Surviving Struggles Together

I firmly believe D.C. has a special ability to test your patience—and it’s not just the Metro delays (though, honestly, waiting 15 minutes for a train will teach you a LOT about persevering). Relationships are tested in the same way. Anyone can survive the “springtime cherry blossom dates” stage—it’s all romance and sunshine when everything falls into place with no effort. But navigating love in real life? That’s August-in-D.C.-humidity levels of struggle. And if you know, you know.

One of the best lessons I’ve learned in love is this: the real test isn’t how you act during the good times; it’s how you handle adversity together. Like that time my fiancée (then-girlfriend) and I realized, mid-road trip, that we’d left the Airbnb key three hours behind us. Instead of spiraling into blame or letting tempers flare, we made a game out of who could write the worst “oops” apology text to the Airbnb host. It was both frustrating and ridiculously funny—and a reminder that surviving life's little messes with humor and grace strengthens your connection.

Making Home Your Anchor

Growing up, my family's home in northeast wasn’t just a physical space—it was a sanctuary. No matter how loud life outside got, our home remained a haven filled with the smell of my mom’s ackee and saltfish, my dad’s reggae at sunrise, and my siblings’ laughter over Spades games. Maybe that’s why I’ve always believed that every person needs an anchor—a place, physical or metaphorical, where they can recharge and be their most authentic self.

In love, finding someone who feels like “home” makes all the difference. Home doesn’t have to be perfect—it just has to be yours. When I met my fiancée, I felt that same sort of ease, like the world could fall apart around us, but we’d hold steady. And maybe that’s as much about how D.C. raised me as it is about her. This city taught me how to navigate chaos but still prioritize building spaces where love can thrive, even if you have to fight to defend them sometimes.

Takeaways from the 202

So, what’s my advice for anyone looking to integrate lessons from D.C. into how they show up in relationships?

  • Trust Your Intuition: Pay attention to what people show you, not just what they say. D.C. made me watchful, and it’s a skill I treasure.
  • Find the Joy Beneath the Fluff: Peel back the outer layers of a relationship. The best connections thrive in the barest, realest moments.
  • Practice Stoop-Level Listening: Be present. Listening deeply can transform how you connect with your partner.
  • Laugh Through the Tough Stuff: Life gets sticky. Laughter is a great adhesive.
  • Create Your Safe Haven Together: In love or life, build a home (literal or symbolic) that grounds and nurtures you, no matter how wild the world gets.

D.C. is more than just a city on the map—it’s my classroom, my stage, my muse. It raised me to value resilience, rhythm, and connection. The same lessons that taught me how to navigate busy streets have made me better equipped to navigate love. So whether you’re trying to flirt for the first time, working on an “it’s complicated” situation, or building something stable, just know this: the places we come from leave us clues. You just have to know where to look.