What do you stand for?

It’s one of those questions they ask in movies, usually during teary, dramatic moments where the music swells. Think Legally Blonde when Elle decides she's officially done with getting disrespected, or The Dark Knight when Harvey Dent’s flipping that coin and trying to decide if he believes in goodness or chaos (spoiler alert: chaos won). In my case, the question isn’t followed by a life-altering courtroom speech or a morally ambiguous fireball explosion—but it’s still worth answering because it shapes how I live, write, and love.

Spoiler alert: I stand for connection—the real kind, where we let go of the filters and editorialized captions and embrace the messy chaos of being human. You can thank growing up in Las Vegas for that.

Neon Lights, Desert Nights, and Everything In Between

Here’s the thing about living in the shadow of the Strip: you learn early on that appearances aren’t everything. Sure, the glittering facade is mesmerizing. It’s easy to get seduced by the idea of effortlessly dazzling nights, champagne fountains, and perfectly choreographed showgirls. But step behind that casino curtain, and you’ll see the lights flicker, the feathers shed, and the truth come out.

Vegas taught me how to spot what’s real and what’s just a mirage. That sleight-of-hand kind of truth goes way beyond poker games and blackjack tables—it lives in relationships, too. Whether it’s a man in a tailored suit spinning tales over cocktails or someone (maybe you, at some point, let’s be honest) pretending to be “totally chill with texting only once a week,” we’ve all been a little guilty of putting up some kind of front.

But honestly? Aren’t we all tired of playing pretend? I know I am.

Authenticity: It’s Not Just a Buzzword

Let me be clear: “authenticity” gets thrown around so much these days it’s practically become the pumpkin spice latte of advice columns. Yes, yes, I’m aware—“just be yourself,” right? But let’s unpack that for a second.

Being yourself isn’t the same as holding nothing back. There’s beauty in vulnerability, but balance is key. I'm not saying you should text someone on a first date, “Hey, these are my three childhood traumas and my fears about dying alone. Thoughts?” Connection thrives somewhere between TMI and Instagram-level curation.

Here’s what I mean:

  • Own your quirks. In high school, I was that girl who always carried around an embarrassingly thick novel at house parties (which was fine until someone spilled cheap beer on my Fitzgerald). Now, I see those quirks as assets—conversation starters, even. Long story short: If you’re into mushroom foraging or niche cosplay, flaunt it. The right people find it endearing, not weird.

  • Say what you mean. A few years back, I realized I had a bad habit of saying, “I’m fine” when I clearly wasn’t. (Vegas upbringing lesson: Half-smiling through irritation is great stage practice, but terrible relationship strategy.) Now, I take deep breaths, ask myself what I actually want to communicate, and proceed accordingly. Spoiler: It works much better.

  • Be unapologetic about your flaws. I can’t cook. Like, really—my oven is mostly for pizza reheating and storage. But I’m honest about it! (Pro tip: If you’re bad at something, make fun of yourself just enough that people secretly think you could be pulling off some reverse-psychology hustle. Keeps it interesting.)

Glitter Isn’t Always Gold: Practicing Intentionality

If authenticity is my foundation, intentionality is the roof over my head—it’s what protects me from saying “yes” when I mean “meh.” Vegas nightlife thrives on instant gratification, but connection? That’s slow-burning, sometimes clumsy, often unglamorous work.

When it comes to relationships, how often do we keep people in our lives just because we’ve convinced ourselves it’s easier than moving on? Here’s your permission slip to let go of dead-weight connections:

  • The half-texters. You know, the ones who answer with “haha cool” or the ever-classic thumbs-up emoji.

  • The drama creators. Dating doesn’t need to feel like a reality TV reunion special. Love is complicated, but it shouldn’t come with commercial breaks.

  • The ones who don’t match your values. This isn’t revolutionary, but it’s amazing how many of us ignore it. If you’re a “early morning hikes” kind of person and they’re all about “back-to-back club crawls,” don’t try to force it. I’ve tried this one—it never works long-term unless someone’s deeply committed to buying better hiking boots… or earplugs.

The Desert and the Oasis

Here’s what’s fascinating about Las Vegas: Beyond the neon glow, there’s this wild desert landscape that feels endless and raw, full of sunsets so beautiful it makes you want to cry (I’ve cried...even sober). That’s kind of how love feels when we strip back the distractions, isn’t it?

Ditching the flashy facade—whether it’s ghosting games or the “I don’t care” trend that everyone secretly cares too much about—makes room for connection that’s intoxicating in its simplicity. It reminds me of those quiet family moments growing up in Vegas, the ones the tourists wouldn’t ever see. Like my dad teaching me backstage tricks or my mom tweaking costume designs late into the night. Sure, those moments weren’t flashy, but they were real, and honestly, my happiest memories.

Here’s What I Believe

  • The silence matters as much as the conversation. Connection isn’t just about the chemistry—it’s about how comfortable you feel sitting together doing absolutely nothing.

  • Vulnerability is edgy. Forget poker faces and “hard to get.” Letting people see you—really see you—that’s where the magic happens (and, yes, it’s terrifying at first).

  • You’re worth the effort. The effort to communicate, compromise, champion your dreams, or just laugh at your truly, awfully bad puns. (And if someone can’t be bothered? Hit them with that’s showbiz, baby and walk away.)

The Big Takeaway

The glitz and glamour might get us through the door, but what keeps us dancing isn’t the rooftop view or the headliner act—it’s the people we share that view with.

In a city where everything has a spotlight, what I’ve learned is that the real heart lies in unlit moments: the backstage nerves before the show, a shared plate of greasy fries at 3 a.m., or that first deep conversation when the party's noise fades into background static.

If this sounds romantic to you, great. If it sounds like I just described dating as a hot desert hike with questionable GPS directions, also fair—it kind of is. But trust me, the oasis waiting at the end is worth every misstep.

So here’s my advice: Turn off the filters. Say what you mean. And when things get too polished, make space for a little mess. Sometimes, it’s the cracks that let the light shine through.