Somewhere between inhaling the smoky jollof rice my mom makes on visits and binge-watching late-night rom-coms, a realization hit me like the opening notes of a Fela Kuti track: I have obsessions—quirky, specific, unapologetically mine. They shape who I am, how I love, and sometimes even the way I handle a first date (spoiler alert: not entirely smoothly). But isn’t that the beautiful mess of being human?

Let me unpack a few for you. Buckle up because there’s a good chance you might catch yourself nodding along—or questioning my commitment to particular things in life.

The Intricate Dance of Jazz and Romance

I have a deep, almost romantic obsession with jazz. I once described John Coltrane’s “Naima” to someone as “the sonic equivalent of a love letter you didn’t know you were waiting to receive.” It’s a genre built on improvisation, something delightfully mirrored in both romance and a good plate of egusi soup.

Jazz taught me that great love stories—like great solos—aren’t scripted. They evolve in unexpected directions, and sometimes, the moments you didn’t plan hold the most magic. So now, when I go on dates, I like to lean into that same sense of improvisation. If you’re sipping cocktails with someone who unexpectedly makes you laugh so hard you snort (come on, it happens!), let that unscripted moment live. There’s something beautiful in not having a checklist of “ideal date scenarios.”

Pro tip: If your pops is as nosy and expressive as my Nigerian dad, never let him interrogate your date about their thoughts on Thelonious Monk unless you’re absolutely sure they can hang.

The Culinary Love Language: Nigerian Food

A confession: I have, on multiple occasions, judged people based on their reaction to spicy food. Too much? Maybe. Necessary? Absolutely. Back in Lagos, the kitchen was the heartbeat of the home, the place where connection simmered alongside bubbling pots of pepper soup.

Now, when I want to feel grounded—or impress a dinner date—I turn to the recipes I inherited from my mother. Nigerian cuisine doesn’t just feed—it tells a story. Puff-puff is for celebrations, akara for comforting mornings, and suya for nights that linger too long under warm summer skies. Watching someone taste my cherished dishes feels oddly vulnerable, like showing them a part of me I don’t easily reveal.

Does he flinch at the heat level of my mom’s signature goat meat stew? Red flag. Does she ask for seconds? Green light! Pay attention to those small quirks. They’re like cultural micro-tests; how someone reacts can tell you more than their Bumble bio ever could.

Romance, but Make It Literature

What I’m about to say might scandalize the high school students I used to teach, but here goes: I will 100% judge a potential partner by their taste in books. Is that elitist of me? Probably. But if we’re not discussing Achebe’s “Things Fall Apart” versus Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s “Half of a Yellow Sun” over coffee, are we really building anything worth holding onto?

Here’s the thing: stories anchor us, and shared stories build bonds. My parents didn’t have picture-perfect love (few people do), but as busy as they were—my dad hustling at his shop, my mom balancing endless hospital shifts—they’d still spend evenings sharing folktales they heard growing up in the villages of Nigeria. When I see someone light up over a story that shaped them, when I catch that fire in their eyes over words on a page, it reminds me of those tender moments from my childhood.

The literature obsession also has practical applications in dating. Hear me out: sitting on a blanket with someone in Prospect Park, Gary Shteyngart novel in hand, is way more memorable than a tired “What do you do for work?” watercooler conversation. Conversation tip? Ask, “What’s the last book that changed you?” It might just open a door you didn’t expect.

A Not-So-Guilty Devotion to British Period Dramas

Now, let me come clean about something that’s 70% pride, 30% shame: I have spent entire Sundays watching Bridgerton, Downton Abbey, and anything remotely period drama adjacent. Did my semester abroad in London spark this particular obsession? Likely. Did I start using words like “quite” more often than a Brooklynite should after binging Pride & Prejudice? Undeniably. (My sisters haven’t let me live it down, so please feel free to keep me humble too.)

But here’s the thing: Regency romance isn’t just about flowy dresses or scandalous handwritten letters. It’s about longing—the art of the slow burn. And if dating today could use anything, it’s allowing space for the small, delicious moments to build. The shy glance, an accidental grazing of hands during a movie. There’s a thrill in anticipation that every period drama has perfectly bottled.

So, next time you’re grabbing a coffee with someone special, take your time. Resist the urge to fill awkward silences with nervous chatter. Sometimes, simply sitting quietly with them gives you as much of a rush as a grand ballroom scene.

Obsessions = Soft Spots, and That’s a Good Thing

I’ll keep it real: our quirks, obsessions, and soft spots are often the unspoken litmus tests of compatibility. Whether it’s passionately defending why The Matrix is really a love story (yep, that’s me) or dragging someone to a jazz concert on a first date, these little fixations are the breadcrumbs that lead to connection. Will everyone “get” your passions? No, and they shouldn’t have to. The right ones will at least try to.

Loving someone—or being loved—isn’t about finding the person who checks every single box. It’s about finding the person who’ll see your mismatched pile of interests and say, “Yeah, I like that about you.” And if they can hang during multiple chaotic streams of thought in one conversation (ask me sometime about Lagos street food and ’90s R&B influences in one go), you’ve got yourself a keeper.

So here’s my parting wisdom: Whatever makes you, you—lean into it. Show it off unapologetically. Whether it’s a love for obscure Nigerian spices or a devotion to the perfect jazz playlist, our weird, specific, wonderful obsessions are often the heartbeat of the lives we want to share with others.

Told you I’d unpack something good. Now, your turn: What’s an obsession of yours you're dying to share, and who’s the lucky person you want to tell? They might just surprise you.