Why it doesn’t matter if you met (or meet) online.

Lane and I met on a dating application.

The name of the application is called Hinge. My friend from New York City recommended it to me at the start of 2015.

“I’ve been on a couple of good dates,” she said. “They have jobs. Real jobs.”

It’s sad to think that a ‘real job’ is a thing you find yourself looking for in a partner these days.

 

I downloaded the application on the floor of her living room on January 1. We’d just come back from a diner where we mapped out our year and I was feeling lucky and ambitious. I set my search settings to Atlanta and I started to scroll.

Mind you, I was in the middle of thick depression when I downloaded that dating app. My feelings and emotions were a jumble of really high and rock-bottom low that winter. Me being on a dating application was probably not the healthiest choice and I soon realized that a couple of days later. I deleted the application.

It’s not that I didn’t want to meet someone. I just knew in my gut that the words I needed to repeat to myself were, “not now.” Not now. Get healthy. Get happy. Get sane. Get better. Get “anything” before you start believing a guy with a full set of teeth and a real job is going to fix you.

I ignored the idea of that dating application for another nine months.

 

My first year out of college, I wanted to be in love. I thought I would be one of those people who got married young. I’m happy God didn’t have the same plan for me because my husband would have starved to death in wrinkled clothing during our second month of marriage.

I don’t want to say I wasn’t in touch with reality back then but I really wasn’t. I saw everything through the eyes of a dreamer. I believed I would meet someone in a romantic clash of serendipity. I wrote this really whimsical blog post about how I didn’t support online dating because I believed I would meet someone in a more unexpected fashion. Somewhere like aisle seven of the grocery store where we would bump carts and then exchange awkward words before he asked me to dinner.

I remember getting a blog comment from a reader who was offended by my piece. She told me she and her husband had met through online dating and there was nothing less magical about their story than the idea of two people meeting in the oatmeal aisle.

 

I sat down to write this today because I know there is a stigma floating in the air about meeting online. I don’t know why the stigma exists but I think it’s because we don’t watch people in the movies meet online and fall in love. Rarely. We consume the unexpected crossings. We consume the scenes where two people end up in the same place at the same time and everything changes.

I wrote this because your love story is great and important, even if it hasn’t happened yet. You aren’t wrong to want to try out a dating application or make a profile on Match.com. That’s not crazy. You can do it. But I wouldn’t be a good friend to you if I didn’t ask you a more important question: is this what you need right now? Are you healthy and are you ready?

Relationships change things. Hearts are fragile. Humans are no different when you fall in love with them– no matter if we meet in a grocery store or in a chatroom. Make sure you are ready enough to bring your heart into the relationship before you swipe right.

 

Love stories happen everywhere. It’s important to note that. If we have a scale of what’s more magical and what’s more deserving of our applause then we are missing the point of love. The most beautiful thing that happens in a love story is two people choosing one another. I don’t think we should care how that happens, or where that happens, so much as we should be expectant and praying that it happens for the people we love. We should be more invested in people’s daily fights to keep one another, not the “how we met” story.

We become entitled. We get jealous and it’s hard to want good things for people when we haven’t yet seen them for ourselves. I think we miss the point we start to believe life is a story all about our expectations being met.

 

 

I remember one of the former contestants on the Bachelor telling a story about how she met her last boyfriend on a plane. It was such a serendipitous moment. For years, as they dated, she kept waiting to fully fall in love. She wanted things to click. She said she finally left.

“I was always waiting for my feelings to catch up to story of how we met,” she said.

Maybe it’s more dangerous that we ask the question so often, “How did you two meet?” Maybe it’s not important that you meet on a train or a bus or a coffee shop. Maybe the better question we could ask people is, “How do you stay in the fight for one another? How do you keep your love fresh? How do you sacrifice?”

 

Lane and I met on a dating application and I think the most important detail of the story is that my heart was ready to meet someone. My heart was ready to treat someone not like a crutch or a savior, but an equal. I knew what I wanted.

Fireworks never exploded in the sky to spell out LANE in big letters. He didn’t march up to my door with a bouquet of sharpened pencils. I made the first move. We talked for a week on the application before Lane asked for my number. I remember the messages were the best part of my day. In a week of traveling to three cities and watching my brother get married, this stranger on the other side of the screen was the best part of my day. He asked questions. He sent back paragraphs. We’d wait until 8 or 9 at night and then write back to one another until we fell asleep at night.

We found out, in piecing together our histories, there were a dozen or so places where we should have met already. We attended the same parties. We knew the same people. We lived 8 minutes apart. We were in the same places at the same time and I am still convinced I served that boy a corn dog and a coke at one of the parties. I just didn’t notice him.

“You wouldn’t have liked the girl you met if you met me any sooner,” I am confident enough to say to Lane. I needed to change before I was ready for a love story. I needed to become someone different and I am proud to say I did the hard work required of me.

 

It doesn’t matter where we meet. We are silly and insane if we get caught up in the “how we met” story that we forget the rest of the details. What will matter in 5 years from now is how we thought to build one another. How we thought to lay our hearts on the line. How we showed up. How we emboldened each other. How we met? That’s just the first part of the story. If you ask me, it hasn’t even gotten good yet.

Things fit: a note to those “flying solo”

Lane texted me last week from a shoe store in Utah. The store sold primarily Nike products. A picture popped up on my screen of an awesome pair of grey Nike sneakers.

“7.5 please,” I texted back, not actually thinking he would buy the shoes for me.

A few minutes went by before he responded, “The smallest size they have is a size 8!”

It wasn’t until recently that I figured out my natural shoe size is a 7.5 and not a 8 but I’ve been wearing shoes in size 8 for years so I knew I could wear these too. However, if Lane had texted me with the news that they only had a size 6 or a size 7, I would have been out of luck. The shoes wouldn’t have fit me.

 

I think when it comes to relationships, we want things to fit as seamlessly as shoes. We date with the anticipation that things will work out. We work hard to make things fit with the person across the table. And sadly, not because it’s anyone’s fault, sometimes things just don’t fit. Two people don’t click. One person has more work to do. You both don’t see the same future. It’s okay to be different. It’s okay to realize you two want different things.

The wicked step sisters in the story of Cinderella were notable for trying to wedge their too-big feet into the tiny glass slipper. The original fairy tale actually illustrates the step-sisters cutting off portions of their feet so they could fit into the shoe. Bloodied up, they still didn’t get the happy ending they wanted. It simply wasn’t their story to live. This wasn’t their person.

Throughout my dating years, I knew myself to be guilty of trying to wedge myself into a box just so a guy would choose me. I thought that was the most important thing, to be chosen by someone. Being chosen is beautiful but making a choice because you know it’s the right one is an even better feeling. If dating leads to marriage and marriage leads to the long haul, you’ll want to be sure of the investment your making. You will want to be sure of that person’s character, ambitions, capacity and how they respect you.

 

People have asked me to write about marriage and I honestly don’t have words yet. I think I should wait another 20 or 30 years before I ever try to claim I have wisdom on this topic. However, I know one thing to be true: Lane and I entered under the contract of marriage because we knew we were a fit. We asked the tough questions. We investigated any red flags. We held the relationship loosely, knowing if things were meant to crumble before marriage became an option then things would definitely crumble.

We wanted to the relationship– our unique partnership– to be more important than our own personal needs to be chosen for an ego boost. I can confidently say that if Lane or I knew things weren’t fitting then we would have walked away. It would have broken our hearts but we vowed to never wedge ourselves into a space where a love story wasn’t meant to happen.

 

If you’re impatient, it’s okay. I wish people would stop saying “when you learn to be content with your singleness, then the right person will come along.” That’s garbage. I honestly don’t think half of the people who say that even mean to phrase it that way– that’s just how we’ve packaged it in the last few years.

I hope what people are trying to say is that it’s okay if you don’t like being single. You don’t have to like it but you have to be careful not to hinge your life, your joy, or your completion to a relationship status. You were fine yesterday. You are fine today. You will be fine tomorrow.

Waiting for the day when you enjoy singleness actually may never happen. I can’t honestly say I ever looked at my singleness and thought, “I am absolutely loving this right now. Bring on more nights where the only spooning I do involves the one I am shoving into this huge vat of ice cream by myself.”

I never once became okay with being single. I learned to be independent, yes, but I never liked the solo life. I remember crying to my mom through the phone after a breakup two summers ago. This was the guy I dated before I met Lane.

“I’m not even upset about the person so much as I don’t want to have to go back into the game,” I cried. “I don’t want to have to play the dating game anymore.” I didn’t want to resign myself to a chair again and wait for more glass slippers to come along.

 

Lane came along shortly after and I remember being so impressed with how easy we were with one another. It wasn’t forced. I wasn’t trying to wedge myself into a place where I didn’t fit. When it’s the right person, there won’t be all this grey area, fog or confusion. That doesn’t mean it will always be easy or you two will never fight. Fighting– healthy fighting where the two of you learn how to communicate– is vital to a relationship. A relationship is two people who’ve lived a separate life coming together to build new territory together. That’s a heavy and light mission. When you find the right person, they’ll carry your heavy and you’ll handle their light.

 

I’ve been writing about fear so much lately because I am realizing just how much I allowed it to narrate my stories for me. If you allow fear to narrate your “flying solo” story, it will try to convince you your person isn’t out there. This isn’t a forever sentence. I can’t tell you when it will end or when that person will walk in. I can’t tell you how you’ll meet or what it will feel like for the first time. But I pray you’ll give someone a decent chance to create a new story with you.

Don’t try to wedge someone into an old story. Don’t be constantly checking to see if they measure up to stories you’ve lived before. This is something new. Something golden and new. Treat it like its sacred (because it is).

All of this happening right now– the lonely nights and the days you cry for no reason except for the fact that you thought you should have met that person by now– is all part of the story. It won’t be discounted when you two meet. It will only help you treasure the person more.

Stop thinking you’re in the wrong place. Stop thinking you’re getting off the wrong exit. Stop thinking they’re in another city or at a different coffee shop. Just stop and live the life you want to live. Be the person you imagined you would be before fear gave you other agendas. That person is going to love you when they find you in your element.

They will love you. You’ll breathe out relief. You won’t be striving or pushing. The two of you will just fit. Don’t worry, things fit.

A no-nonsense guide to getting over a breakup.

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Last summer, I went through a breakup that left me staring at my hands and wanting to loop the Wendy’s drive-thru over and over again until they restrained me from buying french fries. I sat on my couch with my nuggets in my lap and I called any person willing to listen to my ugly sobs.

I yelled. I screamed. I was bitter. Real bitter. In the deep of me, I was sick of heartbreak. I was sick of feeling like I was a loser when it came to love.

What people don’t tell you in the thick of heartbreak is that heartbreak is all about choices. It’s basically a Choose Your Own Adventure with more tears and Rachel Platten ballads. You make choices everyday until the pain is either gone or it becomes you. Either stalk him on Facebook or get a hobby. Either wallow in your bed watching Grey’s Anatomy or get up and go for a walk. Either declare perpetual singleness and become a bird lady (way more underrated than a cat lady) or get back in the dating game. Choices. We all get them.

I can confidently say that in 2015 I experienced the healthiest breakup of my life. I made some of the healthiest choices I’ve ever made in my life. Period. Game forever changed.

Was I perfect? No. Was I mad at God? Heck yes. Was I brooding for a while? Duh.

But here’s the biggest thing I learned through the high and low of getting over a person: you must do the things that will get your heart back into alignment. You’re not lost, you’re just camping out in a swamp for a few days. Pack up your bags. It’s time to go.

SCREW THE SHRINE

One of the reasons why letting go is hard? We feel the need to hold onto every last thing we ever had of that person. Sweatshirts. Coasters. Love notes. Etc. Etc. Burn it. Throw it away. Donate it. Just get it out of your sight, no matter how painful the release may be. You will never be over it if you are always holding on relentlessly to tangible memories.

His sweatshirt, sleeping in your bed every night, is not going to bring him back. That’s the sad truth I hate saying but I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t say it.

EMBRACE MILE ONE

Meaning, it’s okay if you are at the beginning of this breakup hangover and you feel miserable and pitiful. Think about running. Everyone is always miserable at mile 1 of a jog when they haven’t run in a long time. Embrace it. Embrace it and don’t give up because of how icky it feels.

It’s okay if you cry y0urself to sleep at night. It’s okay if you don’t feel like getting out of bed. These are natural symptoms of a breakup. The beginning is always the hardest. The middle will take a lot of work. The finish line will be sweet though.

MAYBE CHANGE YOUR PASSWORDS

Or find good friends who will change your passwords for you and then be merciless when you ask for them back. I took a month-long break off of social media last summer after a breakup. Truth told, it hurt too much to be online. It was too much temptation to want to look him up and see how he was doing. His progress, though I am thankful it was happening, was no longer my business. Something inside of me wanted to be mad or bitter if he did make progress and that wasn’t my heart or my agenda.

Social media rarely helps our wounds. If you don’t have the power to block him or her, block yourself. Get a few friends to build a wall around you. Pick up the hobby of reading instead of stalking.

SEND THANK-YOU NOTES

When is the last time you did that? I mean it. We send thank-you notes after a party, a shower, or after someone donates. Thank-you notes should be a regular occurrence. I find they are one of the biggest ways for me to get outside of my own thoughts and think about other people. That’s what is going to save you from heartbreak: remembering others.

PRAYER HANDS

Prayer doesn’t need to be eloquent. It doesn’t need to be fancy. No need to put white gloves on to get on your knees and pray. You don’t even have to get on your knees. God likes you casual and God doesn’t preference a posture. I love how Anne Lamott says it, “My belief is that when you’re telling the truth, you’re close to God. If you say to God, “I am exhausted and depressed beyond words, and I don’t like You at all right now, and I recoil from most people who believe in You,” that might be the most honest thing you’ve ever said. If you told me you had said to God, “It is all hopeless, and I don’t have a clue if You exist, but I could use a hand,” it would almost bring tears to my eyes, tears of pride in you, for the courage it takes to get real-really real. It would make me want to sit next to you at the dinner table.”

Your prayers are allowed to be imperfect, short, sporadic, violent, and jumbled. That’s the beauty of prayer. He hears all the mess.

STAY HONEST

Find people who will allow you to have your honesty hour. An honesty hour is a chance to say whatever you feel. It’s good for you. It’s cathartic. An honesty hour is not to be confused with a pity party. Because I love you, I am officially granting you permission to partake in one pity party. Just one. Pull out your party hat, dance to sad Ben Rector songs, and then prepare to move the heck on. You are allowed to be honest without being pitiful. Even better than venting on Facebook, get a journal! House your honesty hours there regularly.

CALL IT WHAT IT IS

I remember going through a breakup several years ago and I wanted to act so damn strong. I didn’t want to cry about it. I didn’t want to feel hurt. But I was hurt. I was hurt because I felt like maybe he was my last chance, maybe that was my last shot at love. Sometimes you don’t even want to keep the person, you just want to keep the feeling of being loved and chosen at the end of a day.

It’s okay to be hurt, broken, tired, cranky, etc. Call a feeling what it is. Accept it. Own it. Owning your feelings doesn’t mean you have to stay stuck in them.

OFFER YOUR SERVICES

Think about what you could do for other people during this time when it is more tempting to sing the “me, me, me” song all day. I offered my babysitting services to friends for free. I figured if a baby in a giraffe bikini couldn’t make me smile then I was pretty doomed. I tried to cook for people (emphasis on “tried”). I met people for coffee. I became more active in my church.

You’ve got stuff to give to the world. Your neighbors and friends are in need of you even if you don’t think so. Be a participant in your friend group, not just someone who attends things. You could be the person who sits behind a screen all day hoping someone will notice you or you could be the person who sees and knows people when they don’t think anyone in the world is paying attention to them. It’s all about perspective.

FORGET FEELINGS

Feelings are dead wrong. I just have to say it. Feelings are basically like the weatherman- he predicts things but is wrong 70% of the time.  If you are always guided by your feelings then you can get used to a rollercoaster of unreliable twists and loops. Your feelings fluctuate on a daily basis. Texts alter them. Conversations alter them. Food even alters them. Truth is something you dig for. Wisdom is something you learn slowly and with time.

Most of this advice you’re reading is going to wear off in the next 24 hours and your feelings will tell you to give up and go back to mile one. Don’t listen to the thing inside of you that accepts defeat like a marching order. Stop giving your feelings the keys to your car if you don’t want them to drive you deeper into the woods.

KICK OUT THE LIARS

Those liars in your brain need eviction notices. Stat. It’s really tempting to roll out sleeping bags for the lies and allow them to set up camp in your brain. Lies are convincing. Lies mimic your own voice. Lies will start forest fires if you give them space. Whatever you allow to live in your brain, feeding off your thoughts, will multiply.

YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT

Meaning, don’t feed the lies. The lies are going to tell you, in this very moment, that you will never find love again. The lies will say something like, “That was it for you. Too bad, babe. You had your shot. And that person is going to fall in love and get married and it won’t be you.” You will get fat on those lies if you keep them in your cabinets. Those lies will never help or heal you. The only way to combat them? Get yourself a thicker skin and a stronger voice. You can’t buy those things in a store but you can train yourself to respond to lies and self-inflicted criticism.

YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT (Pt. 2)

Here’s what I don’t get… Read any article on heartbreak and it will always, always make some reference to pulling out the tub of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and crying your snots into the carton. Eating your feelings won’t lessen your feelings. If anything, eating your pain away will only make you feel sluggish and more sad. Food, and how we consume it, has a direct effect on our moods.

Sign up for a yoga class. Learn to cook kale. Try boxing so you can kick the crap out of things and unleash your anger. Endorphins are your friend during this time.

You’ll feel a million times better getting off the couch, putting down the wine bottle, and hitting the outdoors with a hike or stopping by the gym for a few lunges.

IMMERSE YOURSELF IN SOMETHING… ANYTHING

After the Epic Breakup of 2015 (it wasn’t really epic but I don’t know what to call it), I met regularly with a goals coach. Being self-employed, she has consistently helped me to create goals and benchmarks to challenge myself with. She told me I needed a hobby that I could not turn into a full-time job. I told her I secretly love lifting weights and missed how I used to train people in college.

The result? One week later I created a work-out group for girls in my neighborhood looking to lift weights. We met every Monday, Wednesday, Friday to lift together. I planned the workouts in advance and we’d got down dog with yoga mats and Childish Gambino at 7am. I’m still training two of those girls!

Immersing yourself in something other than heartbreak will lessen the blow. People involved? Even better.

GIVE UP THE GHOST

Don’t call. Don’t text. Don’t find some excuse to reach out and say, “Hey, I forgot to tell you this but….”

I texted a guy once a few weeks after we broke up with small talk as a way to say “this is too hard.” He texted back and said, “We don’t need to talk like this anymore.” I translate his text as: Girl, you don’t need to be texting me. Pull yourself together and stop it. You don’t need a ghost story and I don’t need one either. Go on. Let go. I’m not your great love. Leave room in your heart. He’s coming soon.

INDEPENDENT, YEA

That’s the best thing that ever emerged from a breakup for me. By sitting with my own emptiness, and not filling the holes with another guy, I learned where I placed my trust. It wasn’t in God. It was in guys. I found my worth in guys. I found my hope in guys. All my emotions hinged on whether someone found me good enough to keep forever. I claimed I wanted to be this kick-butt independent lady but I was missing the most important thing: independence begins by allowing yourself to be on your own and not become afraid of it. 

GET BACK OUT THERE

Sometimes you go through heartbreak and you need time to grieve. That’s so understandable and I encourage it for those who need it. However, you don’t need to declare a year of singleness if you’re just afraid of rejection all over again. Get back out there. Get your dress on. Get your party shoes on. Be bold enough to try again.

I took a month off from the dating scene in September 2015. I said a lot of prayers. I worked my butt off in the gym. I created my first online class. I put myself out there. I met with people and discussed my feelings. I saw a therapist regularly. I ate the kale.  I said “no” to my feelings and ate more kale. I took that month for myself and I will never regret it because I made it about empowerment instead of defeat.

I grew stronger. I chopped off my hair. I dug deeper into the bible and said more prayers. And then, one month later, I downloaded a dating app.

The date was October 1. My demeanor was different. I wasn’t downloading the app to hinge my entire self-worth to a man. I wanted to go to on a date because I felt cute and sassy. There was nothing deep about it.

On October 2, I noticed a cute guy named Lane was my match. I thought to myself, “Heck no if I am letting some other girl get this one… Off limits, chickies!” I put on my big girl pants. I sent the first message.

On Jealousy.

Hannah,

I wanted to write to ask your advice on jealousy. It’s such a silly part of our human nature, but how can we combat it.  I struggle with it so much and it is really taking away from me allowing myself to be fully happy for others in their achievements and joys. Don’t get me wrong, I do get excited for them and share in their happiness. But when I’m alone and in my own head, I let this little green monster creep in and tell me all these lies.

For example, one of my best single friends is now starting to see this guy. I am beyond excited for her and that she found such a great guy, but there is a little part of me that selfishly says ” why not me? When’s it going to be MY turn to share the fun first date story with all my friends who are eagerly waiting.”

Continue reading “On Jealousy.”

Say “yes” to Tinder dates: 8 online dating tips for singles who want to mingle.

I wrote a post in 2014 about how I’d only ever been on one Tinder date.

I remember writing that post and feeling really insecure about hitting the “publish” button. I was afraid to admit to the world that I didn’t want to be single, that I was taking matters into my own hands to try and meet someone. But the coolest thing happened after I made a heralding battle cry in defense of Tinder dates. More and more people began approaching me and asking me about online dating. That one blog post sparked dozens of conversations. I started getting all these emails from my readers detailing their Tinder date recaps from start to finish.

I soon realized that people want to talk about online dating and whether or not it works because people want to talk about meeting someone in general. It’s something most of us can agree upon: we would like to meet someone to text in the morning and watch Netflix with at night.

Continue reading “Say “yes” to Tinder dates: 8 online dating tips for singles who want to mingle.”

What “Single Ladies” never told me.

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It seems like every time I write about my singleness the floodgates open up. People call me. People text me. They leave an absurd amount of comments on Instagram. For a long time I felt like God was poking me, pushing me to write about the topic, but I always refused. I’ve been fine to write about anything else but I’ve never written more than a few lines on my own singleness.

The thing is, I’m not single. Not anymore. For a while I thought God was going to keep me single until I finally wrote about it. I thought he was waiting to use me to be some single girl vessel to the masses and then, when I finally broke the silence about my lack of plus ones at weddings, he would bless me with some handsomely rugged man.

That’s a problem for a lot of us: we think God is some cruel scientist who has hid our cheese at the end of a maze. We think God is withholding until we learn “x” amount of lessons. We think he will eventually have good for us when we finally get our stuff together.

Continue reading “What “Single Ladies” never told me.”