Do you remember the moment you realized your life had changed forever? For me, it came while wearing an itchy alpaca sweater, sitting across from my Nana in her kitchen, listening to her recount a love story so layered with nuance it could’ve been a Taylor Swift song—complete with betrayal, longing, and redemption arcs. But here’s the kicker: the story wasn’t hers. It was mine. I just hadn’t lived all the parts yet.

Let me explain.

The Ugly Alpaca Sweater and the Ugly Truth

At the time, I was fresh out of one of those relationships that make you question everything. You know the type. He was the walking embodiment of a bad romantic comedy trope: emotionally unavailable, devastatingly charming, and always “forgetting” to text back. I had invested months in convincing myself I could fix what was clearly broken. Spoiler alert: I couldn’t.

Cue a trip home to reset, because nothing says “I need life advice” like eating fry bread at your grandmother’s table. She sat me down, handed me tea like the spiritual elder she is, and said, “Baby, you don’t need to find the perfect person; you need to become the clearest mirror.”

At first, I thought she was quoting a Pinterest board, but then she launched into this eerily accurate monologue about how she’d watched me, over the years, adjust myself to “fit” people I dated. Turns out, my brief flirtation with improv comedy wasn’t limited to open mic nights—I’d perfected the art of shapeshifting in my relationships too. Nana told me that I wasn’t just choosing the wrong people; I was presenting the wrong version of myself. Ouch.

The Dating Profile Epiphany

This is where things got existential. On a whim, Nana made me pull up my dating profile on my phone. (Yes, she knew what Hinge was, and yes, I regretted underestimating her.) What she said next was both brutal and brilliant: “Who is this person?”

It was jarring to realize my profile wasn’t me at all. It was like a highlight reel of who I thought someone might “swipe right” on. Posed travel pictures? Check. A weirdly vague reference to loving “adventure”? Double check. A carefully curated Spotify playlist that didn’t even feature my guilty pleasure, boy bands from the early 2000s? Tragically, triple check.

Nana’s point? My online dating profile wasn’t just masking my authentic self—it was advertising an entirely different person. When you’re a bad-fit mirror, drawing in the wrong people becomes almost guaranteed.

Step 1: Throw Out the Dating Manual

After the Alpaca Sweater Incident, I made it my mission to rebuild—from my profile to my mindset. First things first, I tossed every outdated rule about dating I’d inherited from pop culture. Forget playing coy, overly curating my interests, or waiting 19 hours to respond to texts. If Harry Styles can remind us to treat people with kindness, I can remind myself to show up authentically.

When it came to revamping my profile, I dropped the generic “adventure-seeker” schtick and leaned into exactly who I am: an art museum connoisseur who prefers popcorn over protein bars on hikes, who occasionally sings karaoke duets with her cat (don’t judge), and who thinks bad puns are pure romance.

Step 2: Words > Filters

Profile photos are necessary, sure, but your words matter more than your Valencia-filtered selfies. After the proverbial slap Nana gave me, I rewrote my prompts with intimacy and wit instead of playing it cool.

Boring: “Looking for someone who makes me laugh.” Fresh: “I’ll laugh at your jokes. But only if they’re good. No pressure.”

Boring: “I love to travel.” Fresh: “Ask me about the time I lost my passport in the Louvre, or where I’d fly tomorrow if money grew on succulents.”

It takes effort to sound like yourself, but it’s worth it. Just imagine the alternative: someone showing up on a date expecting Indiana Jones and realizing they got a rom-com introvert with a trivia hobby instead. Spoilers: they’re leaving disappointed. And maybe a little annoyed.

Step 3: Make Self-Awareness Your Swiping Superpower

Here’s the real kicker—your online profile isn’t just for showcasing yourself; it’s also a reflection of your dating priorities. After Nana’s intervention, I started noticing how profiles vibed differently based on how clear or intentional they were. Profiles with good energy—like that guy who mentioned his love for Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (chef’s kiss)—made me pause and picture compatible conversations. Profiles full of vague “live, laugh, love” energy? Pass.

Remember, your vibe attracts your tribe. (Cliché, but true!) Clarity in your profile brings clarity to your dater pool. It’s like setting your Netflix algorithm to “authentic connection” instead of “background dating noise.”

Step 4: Expect (and Embrace) the Weird

One of the lasting lessons my Alpaca Sweater Day taught me is that authenticity is a little messy—and by messy, I mean wonderfully, hilariously imperfect. And leaning into that imperfection teaches you to welcome it in others.

One of my best matches began with a first date where he spilled coffee on his lap and confessed he once ghosted someone… by accident… by switching phone carriers. Did I judge him? Yeah, a little. Did I laugh? Absolutely. And by the end of the date, we were both relaxed enough to “un-edit” ourselves. To this day, I think it’s because I dared to show up as human (awkward karaoke story included), and he met me halfway.

Here’s the takeaway: don’t just swipe right on someone’s edited version of themselves; swipe on the possibility of their weirdness meshing with yours.

Step 5: Be the Mirror

To paraphrase my wise (and brutally honest) Nana, dating works best when you’re the clearest mirror you can be. This doesn’t mean oversharing on a first date or creating a profile that reads like your high school diary. It means knowing your edges and your softness, your non-negotiables and your achingly guilty pleasures.

Stop advertising what the “ideal” version of you looks like and just… be you. That’s the kind of reflection worth matching with.

The Moment That Changed Everything

That day with Nana didn’t just make me rethink dating—it reshaped how I approach connection in general. Whether it’s a Hinge match, a new friendship, or even loving myself more fully, the lesson stands: craft a profile, a vibe, and a life that mirrors who you are. Not a funhouse exaggeration. Not a blurry haze. The real you.

Oh, and if you’re wondering about the sweater? Still itchy. Still hanging in Nana’s kitchen as a backup for wintertime heart-to-hearts.

Turns out, clarity and a good outfit are never out of style.