The smell of freshly baked cornbread and a faint hint of my mother’s Chanel No. 5 still greet me every time I walk into my parents’ home in Dallas. It’s been over a decade since I lived there full-time, but it remains the place that made me—the place where I learned how to dream, how to love, and let’s be honest, how to craft a stellar retort during dinnertime debates. Home isn’t just four walls; for me, it’s a blueprint for how I navigate the tricky terrain of relationships—whether romantic, familial, or platonic. Let me take you back to where it all began.

Sunday Nights, Spades, and the Art of Communication

Growing up in a Black household in Texas, Sunday dinners were a non-negotiable ritual. They weren’t just meals; they were full-blown events. We’re talking fried chicken so golden it shone brighter than Lizzo’s stage wardrobe and greens cooked with the kind of soul the ancestors would approve of. But the real magic didn’t happen at the dinner table; it happened after, over a game of Spades.

Family games of Spades taught me two things: how to work as a team and how to trash-talk with finesse. My mother, the undisputed queen of wit and strategy, would shoot me a hard look across the table that said, “Don’t you dare renege,” while my dad would slyly wink when he had a trump card ready to dominate.

This dynamic soon seeped into how I approached relationships. Romantic or otherwise, Spades rules apply: know your partner, learn their tells, and communicate—verbally and non-verbally. And if all else fails, a little humor goes a long way. Relationships thrive when you can talk openly and laugh even when the cards aren’t in your favor.

Howard University: Where Confidence Took Center Stage

Leaving Dallas to attend Howard University in Washington, D.C., was like walking onto the set of “A Different World”—minus Whitley Gilbert’s pearls but full of bold personalities and sharp intellects. Howard was electric, a thriving hub of ambition and individuality. It taught me that self-assurance is magnetic, but it also taught me the hard way that it’s okay to fail as long as you grow from it.

Case in point: the first time I tried to crack a corny icebreaker at a crowded campus event to impress a cute guy. Spoiler alert: it bombed. (Let’s just say referencing “The Fresh Prince” theme song as a conversation starter is hit-or-miss.) But Howard gave me an inner compass—a reminder that we’re all works in progress, and part of the fun is figuring it out along the way.

The lesson? Bring your authentic self to every encounter. Someone out there will love your quirks, while others might not get them—and that’s perfectly okay. Confidence in who you are is key to forging genuine connections. Also, leave the awkward Will Smith serenades for karaoke night.

Dallas Elegance Meets Southern Simplicity

When I returned to Dallas after grad school in Austin, my love life felt like a refurbishing project. I was starting fresh, learning who I was outside of academia and political work. It was in Dallas where I began to soak in one of life’s simpler yet more transformative truths: you can find beauty in blending opposites.

Dallas is a city of contrasts. Uptown is all glitzy date nights with rooftop cocktails and skyline views, while deep in the pockets of South Dallas, you’ll find smoky barbecue joints that look like dives but serve brisket worthy of its own Netflix special. Somewhere in-between, I discovered my own rhythm: balancing sophistication with soul. Dating often mirrored these contrasts. The fancy dinners mattered less than how someone treated the valet or whether they could hold a real conversation between bites.

More importantly, I developed a deep appreciation for effort. Call it Southern sensibility, but look, if he can’t plan a date, what makes you think he can plan a future?

Lessons in Love (and Lemonade)

One summer evening, during one of my parents’ infamous backyard cookouts, my mother poured herself a tall glass of lemonade, paused dramatically, and said, “You know, Ebony, people make love so complicated. But it’s simple: when you know, you know.”

Now, the 22-year-old version of me might’ve rolled her eyes like a bad rom-com cliché. But the older Ebony has realized Mama was onto something. She wasn’t talking about the easy love—the infatuation, the breathless texts that make your phone light up at 2 a.m. She was talking about the steady love. The kind that’s built on shared values, compromise, and the quiet understanding that you’re each other’s safe space when the barbecue burns or life throws you a curveball.

So, what’s the takeaway? Love is about showing up, not just when it’s convenient, but when it’s messy, awkward, or inconvenient. Be the steady partner you wish to attract. Oh, and always make the effort to refill their proverbial (or literal) lemonade glass.

When in Doubt, Embrace the Chaos

If Dallas taught me to seek balance and Howard showed me the magic of confidence, my time in Austin taught me to embrace my imperfections. Austin’s unofficial slogan is “Keep Austin Weird,” a mantra that gave me the permission to let go of perfectionism—something my overachieving younger self held onto tighter than Beyoncé’s Beyhive gripping their Renaissance tickets.

Whether it was dabbling in food truck dates or accidentally hiking in the wrong shoes (word of advice: never wear white sneakers on the Barton Creek Greenbelt), Austin reminded me that sometimes the best moments are the unplanned ones.

This lesson neatly folds into relationships, too. Forget waiting for the perfect moment or overthinking your way into oblivion. If you’re feeling it, say it. If you’re not feeling it, say that too. Authenticity—messy, unpredictable, and sometimes awkward—is far better than a carefully curated façade.

Build the Home You Carry Everywhere

As I’ve moved through the cities and seasons of my life, I’ve realized that “home” isn’t just a place, but a mindset you take with you. Dallas gave me heart, Howard gave me confidence, and Austin gave me spontaneity. Together, they showed me that every experience, good or bad, contributes to the person you become—and the connections you create.

So, to anyone reading this while navigating the wild, wonderful world of love, remember: it’s less about where you start and more about how you grow. Build your metaphorical home with sturdy foundations—self-awareness, humor, and a dash of resilience—and you’ll find yourself better equipped for all the Spades games and plot twists life (and love) will throw your way.

And when in doubt, just grab a glass of lemonade. Mama Lancaster’s advice rarely misses.