Curiosity, they say, killed the cat. But I’d argue that poor feline just needed better hobbies—or perhaps a lasso to wrangle whatever wildfire dream had so entranced it. Curiosity hasn’t killed me yet, and it’s certainly led me to some unexpected places, some awkward moments, and more than a few enviable stories to tell at fourth-date dinners. My point? If you let it, curiosity might just become your best relationship coach, your most daring matchmaker, and, if nothing else, the reason you now know how to fold a fitted sheet.

Let’s saddle up and ride into the wide-open field of curiosity—where it can take us, why it’s worth cultivating, and how it makes life beautiful (and just a bit unpredictable).


Curiosity Is Your Compass (You Just Have to Pick a Direction)

Growing up on a ranch, I developed a habit of noticing things most people are too busy to pay attention to—like the way a horse twitches its ears when it’s deciding whether to trust you. One day, when I was about 13, I followed the sound of rustling grass during a riding trip. With no real destination in mind, I kept nudging my horse, Blossom, toward whatever it was I couldn’t see. My curiosity led me straight to a mother wolf and her pups, who regarded me with the same kind of wide-eyed wonder I felt. Blossom and I, realizing we were intruding on a family moment, slowly backed away, both wiser for the experience. The thing is, I never would’ve had that near-sacred brush with wildlife if I’d chosen to ignore the sound.

Curiosity doesn’t promise an outcome (nor does it guarantee you won’t embarrass yourself along the way), but it ensures you’re trying. And in the dating and relationships arena, where no one handed us a map and said “Here’s the secret trail to your soulmate,” what’s more valuable than showing up and allowing yourself to explore?

Practical takeaway: Next time you’re curious about someone—whether it’s the stranger sitting across from you on a first date or the person you’ve been married to for ten years—ask the question. Take the risk. Is your date weirdly obsessed with rock collections? Ask, “What’s the best one you’ve found so far?” Been with your partner forever? Try, “If you could time-travel for a day, where would you go and what would you do?” These kinds of little invitations to open up might surprise you.


Awkward Adventures Make the Best Stories

For the sake of transparency, I’ll tell you about the time curiosity led me to a particularly humbling moment. A few years ago, at a small-town festival, I was waiting in line for what someone had described as “the best cinnamon-sugar doughnut” I’d ever eat in my life. While standing there, I overheard a man talking about his pet falcon named Persephone. (If that sentence doesn’t make you curious, I want to know what does.) Naturally, I leaned in, fired off a few questions, and, long story short, agreed to meet his bird the following Saturday. Was this about flirting? Not at first. I swear it was all about the falcon. But then—while failing to determine if this was some elaborate metaphor or if Persephone truly existed—I realized I liked this guy, too.

I showed up at his farm wearing my best “Bird Lady Chic” (read: my least chewed-up sweater), tripped over a root, met the infamous Persephone, and accidentally insulted his taste in music by misidentifying a symphony as Beethoven instead of Bach. Even with all the awkward, the curiosity paid off. Turns out you learn a lot about someone by seeing how they keep their falcons.

Did we go out again? No. But I still tell this story to friends when they need a giggle and a reminder that talking to strangers or following a spark doesn’t always lead to romance—but it often leads someplace unforgettable.

So here’s the deal: Lean into the messy, unpolished encounters. Curiosity might just lead you down a weird trail, but when the dust settles, you’ll leave with a memory worth keeping.


Small Questions Open Big Doors

Some people think curiosity needs to be grandiose—like quitting your job to backpack across Europe or taking up beekeeping to meet other honey enthusiasts. (For the record, if either of those is your thing, go for it.) But I’m here to advocate for the small, seemingly inconsequential questions. It’s the “I wonder what would happen if…” moments that often yield the richest experiences.

For example, after graduating college, I was fresh off a breakup and stuck in a “find-yourself” season that felt as productive as shouting into the Montana wind. During one of my solo hikes, I spotted an old, rusted truck parked at the edge of a field. It wasn’t unusual to see abandoned vehicles out here—they’re practically part of the landscape. But something about the way the truck had been swallowed by wildflowers tugged at me. I ended up crawling into the truck bed to nap, watching clouds roll in overhead. Afterward, I wrote a poem that later became the framework for my first novel.

The same principle applies to love and relationships. The tiniest curiosities—“Why does their laugh make my stomach flip?” or “What’s pulling us closer right now?”—can be the sparks that light fires worth tending to. Curiosity doesn’t always have to be a nuclear explosion of inspiration. Sometimes, it’s a quiet nudge that says, “Just try. Just ask. Just reach.”


Let Curiosity Out of Its Cage

Too often, we cage our curiosity out of fear—of awkwardness, rejection, or stepping into uncharted territory. But I promise you: The risks of acting on curiosity are far less painful than the regret of not letting it roam.

The biggest trick? Reframe curiosity as an act of bravery rather than something silly or self-indulgent. When I agreed to join my college roommate on a “mystery outing” one Friday night, I expected little more than a mediocre dinner and some karaoke. Instead, I ended up at a semi-chaotic barn dance, learning how to two-step. I stumbled over my partner’s feet more times than I care to count, but guess what? It was the most fun I’d had in months. What started as a spontaneous, curious evening became a recurring event—and one that eventually introduced me to people who would remain lifelong friends.


The Bottom Line: Trust the Tumbleweeds

Here’s the thing about curiosity: It’s a tumbleweed. You let it roll where it needs to, and nine times out of ten, it takes you someplace unexpected—maybe even life-changing. Whether you’re just beginning to date, navigating the middle miles of a relationship, or rekindling connection in a decades-long partnership, curiosity may be the most transformative tool you have. It turns the ordinary into the extraordinary, the mundane into the magical, and the stranger into someone unforgettable.

So, let it take you. Pick up the phone. Buy that concert ticket. Ask that slightly ridiculous question that’s been circling in your mind.

Still worried it’ll be awkward? It absolutely will. But awkward makes for a darn good story.