Why I Chose This Path

It happened somewhere between sipping sweet tea on my parents’ veranda and realizing I could name every stately home in Savannah by its architectural style. It wasn’t an epiphany exactly, but a slow, warm realization—like a Southern spring creeping in with its azalea blooms. I wanted to write about people, places, and connections. Specifically, the intricate webs we weave when building relationships, romantic or otherwise. Relationships are messy, beautiful, and endlessly fascinating. And when you grow up surrounded by cotillions and cocktail parties, you learn quickly that what happens behind polite smiles is where the real action is.

But why relationships? Why love? After all, I could have stayed writing about Buckhead garden parties or Atlanta’s restaurant scene (and trust me, I’d still write an ode to biscuits if asked). But here’s the thing: relationships are central to everything—our happiness, our self-worth, even our Spotify playlists. So, why not dive into the heart of it all?

Southern Belles and Awkward Moments

Growing up, love was as ubiquitous as magnolia blossoms but equally veiled. Courtship in my social circles was infused with charm and tradition but also unspoken rules no one dared challenge. Yet, it was never the grand gestures at debutante balls that fascinated me most—it was the little things. The way my best friend's mom tilted her head when her husband slipped late into the room, or the way my high school boyfriend stammered when asking me to prom (despite weeks of rehearsals). These micro-moments revealed more about relationships than any Nicholas Sparks adaptation ever could.

I’ll admit, though, I didn’t start this journey with relationships in mind. As a writer, my first instinct was stories. I wanted to unpack layers, to ask, “Why do we do what we do?” Whether that's texting an ex at 1 a.m. or dating someone exclusively because they looked good parallel parking, we all have reasons. And finding those reasons? That’s where the magic (and sometimes, the chaos) lies.

Finding Love in the Details

When I studied abroad in London, miles away from Southern charm and smocked dresses, I started scratching beneath the surface of what connects people. I spent evenings in pubs watching first dates. (Side note: British first dates are remarkably polite and yet hilariously awkward.) I saw the infinite ways people try to impress each other, whether it was ordering obscure ales or referencing Shakespeare. The intentions were universal, though: They just wanted to connect, to be seen.

That year, I also experienced my own fledgling attempts at connection. Over flat whites and tiny, dust-covered bookshops, I fumbled with accents, social cues, and one particularly memorable dinner where I learned “pants” means something entirely different across the pond. Every slip-up became a story, every misstep a reminder of how utterly human love makes us.

Relationships aren’t about perfection—they’re about persistence. Whether you’re memorizing Lord Byron for an artsy date or Googling “how to tell if someone likes you” at the ripe age of 22, the effort itself is the fertile ground on which love grows.

The Writer’s Lens: Connection Is Universal

Back in Atlanta, I took those lessons—and my penchant for storytelling—into my work. Yet, writing about culture and high society only scratched the surface. Don’t get me wrong—I adore a well-executed canapé, and nothing beats the theatrics of a charity auction paddle war. But I always had this nagging question: What happens after the spotlight dims? When the tuxedos are hung up and the Spanx come off, what keeps people together?

That’s when I turned my focus to relationships—not just the dreamy, notebook-worthy moments but the nitty-gritty, too. The disagreements over thermostat settings. The tension of meeting your partner’s college friend who unabashedly calls them by their inside jokes. The revelatory moment when you realize no, you don't actually enjoy hiking but you’ve been doing it every Saturday because you like them. These moments begged to be explored, celebrated, poked at—and occasionally laughed over a warm plate of cheese straws.

Relationships may be universal, but they’re endlessly specific in execution, and that’s where it gets interesting.

The Romantic Red Thread (And Why It Matters)

Here’s something I realized early on: we live in a world obsessed with finding “the one,” but we rarely talk about building “the us.” Anyone who’s been brave enough to send the first “hey” on a Bumble chat or sit through an uncomfortable “Define the Relationship” talk knows that love isn’t just lightning strikes and sweeping violins. It’s effort. It’s compromise. It’s sometimes swallowing your pride to apologize for snapping when they left the cap off the toothpaste again.

I choose to write about relationships because they’re where we learn the most about ourselves. They hold up a mirror to our quirks, insecurities, and blind spots. My best self-revelations didn’t come from charitable galas or my time with the Atlanta social elite—they came from moments of connection. From learning to laugh when my date spilled coffee on my white sundress. From realizing I clung to a punishingly high bar for myself because I was afraid to be vulnerable. From knowing that even when love feels terrifying or a little ridiculous, it’s often worth chasing anyway.

Lessons Learned (And Documented)

In writing about relationships, I’ve learned a few truths along the way. Here’s what I’ll leave you with:

  1. Be Clear About What You Want. Whether it’s the perfect shade of red for your wedding bouquet or a partner who genuinely likes your dad’s puns, knowing yourself is half the battle. (No, “I’ll know it when I see it” doesn’t count—dating isn’t Yelp!)

  2. Don’t Overlook the Small Stuff. Grand gestures are great, but if they text you to ask about how your awful Tuesday morning meeting went? That’s the gold.

  3. Stay Curious. About yourself, your partner, and what makes them tick. Connection thrives when you choose curiosity over judgment.

  4. Laugh. A Lot. If you can’t laugh about your messy first date or their absolutely tragic karaoke choice, what’s the point?

Your Story, Your Terms

At the end of the day, every journey is unique—mine took me from Buckhead soirées to poring over relationship psychology articles (often with a glass of wine in hand). But whether you’re crafting a life with your soulmate, testing the waters with someone new, or just learning to love yourself first, there’s no wrong way to go about it. Your story deserves to be told on its terms.

So here I am—your friendly guide, equal parts historian of human connection and enthusiastic cheerleader for chasing messy, delightful, meaningful love.