It was supposed to be a simple assignment. Go deep, my editor said. Find the intersection of romance and adventure in a way that feels fresh. This is how I found myself standing knee-deep in a tide pool at midnight, surrounded by bioluminescent plankton and a smattering of questionable judgment. All for a story I wasn’t entirely sure anyone would care about.

If you’re wondering whether it’s ever actually worth it to dramatically romanticize sea creatures in a dating and relationship column, you’re not alone. But let me back up a little—because when it comes to my weirdest assignment, the context matters.

Chapter One: "Just Pitch Something Different"

You should know that I live for great first sentences. In fact, I owe everything to a well-crafted pitch. So when I emailed my editor one balmy Santa Monica afternoon with the idea of exploring how the natural world mirrors our love lives, I thought I was being clever. Courtship dances of sandhill cranes? Perfect metaphor gold. The symbiotic partnerships of clownfish and anemones? Delightfully niche.

The problem was that my editor wanted something “immersive.” And by immersive, apparently, she meant me immersing myself in something bizarrely personal and highly wet. Enter: tide pools.

Chapter Two: Why Tide Pools Are a Perfect (and Deranged) Metaphor for Dating

Have you ever crouched over a rock pool, searching for flashes of movement under shallow water? There’s something humbling about realizing just how much life exists where you weren’t even looking. Hermit crabs scuttle beneath the surface. Sea stars cling fiercely to whatever solid ground they can find. Everything is at once mesmerizing and deeply precarious. Sound eerily familiar? That’s dating.

One minute, you’re marveling at the glimmering world laid before you. The next, you’re wondering if stepping in the wrong spot might ruin the entire ecosystem. Like relationships, tide pools are complicated. They look calm on the surface but demand curiosity and respect. They’re subject to timing—low tide, high tide, or emotionally unavailable (an apt comparison). And sometimes, they surprise you with unexpected flashes of painful beauty.

Naturally, I decided to write about this experience not by Googling or hitting up the Monterey Bay Aquarium but by making my way to an actual tide pool just outside of Malibu. Research, right?

Chapter Three: Midnight Overkill, or, How Not to Lose Footwear at Leo Carrillo

Here’s where it all went downhill, figuratively and literally. I couldn’t just go to the tide pool during the sun-drenched hours when responsible humans do their looking, photographing, and existential pondering. No—because I’d watched Blue Planet one too many times, I fixated on the idea that biofluorescence might bring a glow-in-the-dark magic to deepen my romantic metaphor. So off I went near midnight, wearing rugged sandals (a mistake) and carrying an overpacked flashlight (and yes, I forgot extra batteries).

Picture me, precariously balanced on the rocks, pretending to be a poetic Jane Goodall of the intertidal zone. Tide’s rolling back, wave foam glowing faintly under the moonlight—it’s cinematic enough to break your heart. Until I lost my footing in a slick patch of green algae and introduced both my flashlight and right sandal to Davy Jones's locker. Cue panicked improvisation: one wet sock, lots of fumbling, and the grim realization that tide pools demand more grace than I brought with me.

I did, however, spot a couple of legit fluorescent shrimp and decide they represented the "luminous surprises of love." Or maybe I hallucinated that part. Regardless, it seemed poetic at the time.

Chapter Four: What Nature Taught Me About Connection (Aka, “The Point of All This”)

Here’s what I took away from that life-aquatic misadventure, and it wasn’t regret (although my bruised ankles and troubling lack of flashlight backup begged to differ). No, this messy experiment brought me face-to-face with a truth we tend to avoid: the best discoveries often arrive through discomfort. The squishy, un-glamorous effort we invest in curiosity.

Think about relationships—you don’t stumble into rare, valuable connections by staying in your comfort zone. You find real-life equivalents of my glow-in-the-dark shrimp when you compromise on the perfect timing, adjust your expectations, and show up for the moments that could surprise you.

Chapter Five: Lessons for Love from a Tide Pool Lover (Me)

I wouldn’t be a staff writer worth their weight in quirky metaphors if I didn’t distill these salty escapades into practical advice. Here’s what tide pools have to say about dating, love, and connection—and how they might save you from losing a metaphorical shoe:

  1. Approach With Care:
    Just as you tread carefully in delicate ecosystems, treat new relationships with intentional respect. It’s not about avoiding messy feelings but rather about understanding the impact of your steps.

  2. Sometimes, You Wait for High Tide:
    Not every connection flows immediately. Just as life within a tide pool ebbs and shifts, patience makes room for first impressions to evolve into depth.

  3. What You See Isn’t Always What You Get:
    A glint beneath the surface may not be what you’re expecting—and that’s okay. Be open to learning about someone slowly rather than forcing things into neat, predictable boxes.

  4. Stay Curious (Even When It’s Messy):
    Sure, tide pools are chaotic, dripping with algae, and half-hidden in shadow. But that messy reality—those unfiltered moments—is where the best stories unfold. Take the time to notice that, yes, love often follows this same maddeningly beautiful script.

Chapter Six: Making Peace with the Chaos

If you’re still wondering whether this half-shoe-losing escapade was worth it, the answer is a resounding yes. Not because I came away with a Pulitzer-worthy essay, but because love and connection aren’t neat and tidy. They live in the moments you weren’t prepared for, like standing barefoot under the stars, amazed by the glow of something small yet extraordinary.

So here’s my advice: the next time you feel stuck, unsure, or a little lost in your own dating story? Think of a tide pool. Remember the beauty in the chaos, the adventure in daring to wade into the unknown. You’ll lose a flashlight or two along the way, sure. But what you find might just glow.