Man, sometimes you just hit a wall, you know? Like, you’re looking for answers, and you’re trying to figure out what the heck is going on with your heart. I remember seeing something about a “Virgo Love Reading” one day, just popped up in my feed. And my first thought was, “Jeez, am I that desperate that I’m looking at horoscopes for my love life now?” But honestly, at that point, I felt pretty clueless about what my heart really wanted.
I was in this phase, for what felt like forever, where I was just chasing whatever felt ‘right’ on the surface. You know, going on dates, trying to make things work with people who, looking back, were just not for me. My whole approach was like, “Find someone, anyone, to fill this space.” I was convinced my heart desired a partner, a significant other, someone to share everything with. Sounds noble, right? But the truth was, I wasn’t even sure what I was bringing to the table, or what I actually needed beyond just ‘not being alone’.
I was putting myself out there, swiping on apps like it was a second job. Dates felt like interviews, or worse, just a chore. Each time it didn’t click, or things ended, I felt this heavy drain. It wasn’t just about the other person; it was like I was failing myself. I’d come home, dump my keys, and just stare at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I was even doing. I’d try to force connections, rationalize away red flags, just because the thought of being ‘single’ felt like some kind of cosmic punishment. It was a messy, exhausting cycle, and my heart just felt all over the place.
Then something shifted. It wasn’t some grand revelation from a love reading, but more like a slow, dawning realization after one too many dud encounters. I’d just wrapped up another ‘meh’ coffee date, and as I walked home, I felt this incredible urge to just… stop. Stop looking. Stop trying to fit into someone else’s puzzle. I felt so depleted. That’s when I decided I needed to figure out what was actually going on inside me before I tried to connect with anyone else.
My Journey to Figuring Things Out
- First thing I did was delete all the apps. Seriously, every single one. It felt drastic, like cutting off a limb, but man, the instant relief was palpable. That constant pressure to ‘perform’ or ‘find’ someone just vanished.
- Then, I started saying “no” to things that didn’t feel right. This was a big one. Friends would try to set me up, or invite me to places I knew would just be a painful reminder of my ‘single’ status. I just politely declined. I started prioritizing my peace over feeling obligated.
- I picked up old hobbies that had fallen by the wayside. I used to love tinkering with electronics, building little circuits and stuff. I dusted off my old soldering iron, bought some components, and just lost myself in it. Hours would fly by, and I wouldn’t even think about dating or relationships.
- I started moving my body more. Not for a ‘glow-up’ to attract someone, but purely because it felt good. Long walks, some light jogging. Just feeling my muscles work, breathing fresh air. It cleared my head in a way nothing else could.
- And this is the weirdest part: I started dating myself. Yeah, I know, sounds cheesy. But I’d plan actual outings for myself. Went to that small art gallery I always meant to visit. Saw a movie alone. Cooked myself a really nice meal, set the table properly. It felt kinda ridiculous at first, but then it felt… empowering. Like, “Hey, I actually enjoy my own company.”
It was a slow grind, honestly. There were days I still felt lonely, really lonely. Moments where I’d see a happy couple and feel that familiar pang. But those moments started to get fewer and further between. I was slowly building something within myself. I started to notice that I wasn’t looking at others to feel complete. I was just… complete. On my own. That quiet contentment, that feeling of being perfectly fine just as I was, doing what I wanted, when I wanted – that was it. That was what my heart truly desired. Not a person to fix me or complete me, but the sturdy, undeniable feeling of being enough, all on my own. It wasn’t glamorous, it was just real.
