A reflection on shifting, discerning, and choosing relationships that align with who I am becoming

I sit with pen in hand — or rather, iPencil and iPad. I tried going back to pen and paper the other day, thinking it might bring something fresh, but I realized I’m enjoying this new way of writing.

There’s something playful and low-pressure about it. Minimalistic. I get to experiment with different pen styles, colors, and templates. I prefer the dotted template because it gives some structure without the stress of writing within the lines.

I’m not great at that — never have been. Following directions? Not my thing. Especially on a day like today, when I’m not writing with any particular agenda. I’ve set a timer, and I’m letting it flow. Some days call for different strokes, different moods, different ways of being. I allow myself the freedom to change, evolve, and adapt to the energy.

Lately, I’ve been switching up my writing spaces too. I’ve been sitting at the kitchen island when typing, since it tends to flow better when seated at a table. When I write by hand, though, I prefer a sofa, beanbag, or my bed — anywhere I can get comfortable.

It depends on the day, the feeling, the energy I’m in.

I’ve also noticed I’ve been craving company. Not just any company — intentional, light-me-up kind of company.

Over the years, I’ve become more selective about who I spend my time with, mostly because my life feels full. I have many things I’m passionate about, and so the presence of another person has to enhance that joy, not drain it.

I believe you know when you meet someone whether there’s a connection or not.

It’s an immediate spark — an energy. That intuitive click.

Two people meeting and creating synergy.

As explained by the Oxford Dictionary, it’s “the interaction or cooperation of two or more organizations, substances, or other agents to produce a combined effect greater than the sum of their separate effects.”

That’s what I’m looking for.

Am I asking for too much? Quite possibly.

I’ve been trying online dating again.

There aren’t many organic ways to meet people in my situation, especially since I’ve been living in another country — one where I did not grow up. I’ve been here for a few years, but most of my closest friends are 16,000 miles away, so “meeting someone through friends” or “on a night out with the girls” isn’t an option.

Developing new friendships has also been a challenge — cultural differences, language barriers, and social norms make it harder to go deep.

While I do meet wonderful people all the time, they tend to remain lovely acquaintances. And I’m more of a deep conversationalist. I want to talk about ideas, emotions, growth — not just small talk.

It might be time to revise my dating profile to reflect that. Because let’s be honest — some people just freeze up when you try to talk about anything beyond the surface-level stuff.

I’m not for the awkward silences that feel like work.

Why are some conversations so painfully awkward?

I’ve decided it’s just incompatibility. And you really do have to go through a lot of those to find even one that clicks.

It gets exhausting, so I take breaks. I set boundaries.

And then I start second-guessing those boundaries.

For example, I’ve been telling myself I won’t date anyone who’s recently divorced or separated. And I’ve felt guilty about that — because I remember being in that stage once.

I was separated for years before I legally divorced, and I got disqualified in the dating world more than once. At the time, it hurt. I believed I was ready for a relationship.

But looking back? I wasn’t.

I still had so much healing to do — so much rediscovering of myself after a marriage that was toxic.

I had to rebuild from the inside out.

Even if it feels harsh to set those boundaries, I do it now with compassion and experience. I’ve been on both sides and I know how important it is to take the time to get clear before entangling yourself with someone.

Giving ourselves permission to change and evolve means honoring not just the way we write or move through our day, but the way we connect, choose, and show up in relationships.

Sometimes, we crave quiet solitude. Other times, deep connection.

The beauty is — we’re allowed to shift, to grow, and to align our choices with who we are in each stage of life.

In dating, it means setting boundaries that reflect my emotional readiness, desires, and vision for the future.

It’s okay to say, “This isn’t aligned with where I’m going,” or “I need something deeper.”

That’s not being difficult — it’s being discerning.

And the more we honor the truth of where we are, the more we create space for someone who meets us there — with the same clarity, depth, and intention.

Here I am, over ten years later. Still growing. Still healing. Still unsure if I’m 100% ready — but I am open.

I believe with the right person, we can grow together. It won’t be perfect. But it can be beautiful. And ideally, we’d both be in a similar place in life — self-aware, emotionally available, more grounded in who we are.

For now, I’m grateful for the chance to begin again. To feel, to hope, to open my heart.

Because that’s the thing about healing — it doesn’t mean we’re “done.” It means we’re willing to try again with a little more wisdom than we had before. And for that, I’m truly thankful.