If you’ve ever looked back on a dating situation and cringed, not just at what he did, but at what you tolerated, excused, or tried to rationalize, you’re in good company. Growth isn’t always graceful. Sometimes, it shows up dressed like regret, with a side of “how did I not see that coming?”
These are a few of my hard-hitting, humbling lessons. Not for pity, but perspective. For the version of you who’s still “seeing where it goes” even though your gut already knows where it’s headed.
1. Doing It for the Plot (a.k.a. “Let’s Just See Where This Goes”)
Sometimes, I said yes just to see where things could go. Other times, I said yes because I didn’t want to make someone feel rejected.
Once, I let a man visit me while I was living in another city. What I thought was a short trip, he saw as a turning point. He had a plan: quit his job, move across the country, and stay with me. What I didn’t realize was that stay with me meant be with me.
I didn’t fully understand what I’d agreed to until it was too late. It got uncomfortable real fast and then overwhelming. Suddenly, I had spiraled into a chapter I wish I could go back and dodge like a bullet.
What I learned:
You don’t owe anyone a yes just because they’re excited, hopeful, or persistent.
2. So Focused on Being Picked, I Forgot to Choose
I used to think being chosen meant I was winning and that if someone wanted me, it proved I was exceptional. So, I played the part. I prioritized being the “cool girl,” the one who didn’t ask for too much, didn’t take up too much space, didn’t make things awkward or complicated.
I said yes when I wanted to say no. I overlooked red flags and called it grace. I adjusted my schedule, my boundaries, even my expectations—just to stay desirable. Just to stay in the running.
Eventually, I had to admit I wasn’t looking for love, I was fishing for approval. And the bait you cast is the kind of attention you attract.The truth is, when your focus is on being chosen, you stop being intentional about who you’re choosing. And that kind of self-abandonment doesn’t lead to love, it leads to reality checks and regret.
I’ll say this—I picked up a lot of skills during that chapter of my life. Chess, basketball, painting, spotting the best deals by unit price, negotiating… the list goes on. My point? It wasn’t all wasted. Some good came from it.
The shift: stop asking, “Do they want me?”
Start asking, “Is this even someone I respect, trust, or feel safe with?”
Start asking, “Am I still myself here?”
Because love shouldn’t cost you your identity.
3. If You’re Always Explaining Your Worth, You’re in the Wrong Room
There was a guy I dated who constantly challenged my success. I’d share good news and he’d say things like, “Must be nice,” “Some of us don’t have it that easy,” “Don’t let it get to your head.” I twisted myself into knots trying to prove I was down to earth. I wanted to show I was lovable and laid back, not intimidating.
Looking back, I wasn’t intimidating, he was intimidated and insecure. And I confused his discomfort with my success as a sign I needed to shrink. Never again.
What I learned:
Never dim your light. The right partner will either rise to meet you or inspire you to rise even higher.
4. Not Everyone Who Says They’re Ready Is Ready for You
There’s a difference between wanting love and being ready to receive it. Some people genuinely mean well, but they don’t know how to handle someone who shows up with emotional availability, clarity, and sincerity. They ask for honesty, but when they get it without games or manipulation they retreat.
I’ve had men seem almost suspicious when I answer their questions directly. Shocked by my openness. Unnerved by the fact that I wasn’t trying to impress them. I was just being real. For some, that kind of clarity felt foreign. Instead of recognizing it as healthy, they assumed it to be too good to be true.
What I’ve learned is this: You’re not too much. You’re just honest in a world that keeps mistaking sincerity for strategy.
5. Thinking Meeting the Family Always Means Something
A month in, he took me to meet his grandmother. Then his cousins. His aunt. They welcomed me like I belonged. It felt intimate, like an unspoken confirmation that we were becoming something real.
What I didn’t know was that two weeks prior, he had proposed to another woman.
He told me we were going to lunch, then casually pulled into his grandmother’s driveway. It felt spontaneous. Sweet. But, it was mastermind manipulation dressed as sincerity. The worst part? His family played along. Maybe they didn’t know everything, but they knew enough. And still, they smiled. Still, they let me sit at their table as someone clearly more than a “friend.”
That’s when I learned: meeting the family doesn’t mean he’s serious. Sometimes, you’re not being introduced out of love, you’re being paraded to prove the kind of woman he can get. Or you’re simply being used to provoke someone else to spark jealousy, to prove a point. It’s not about love or intention. It’s about ego, clout, and control. And too often, families will play along. Not because they don’t know better, but because protecting him matters more than protecting you.
Final Thoughts: Growth Doesn’t Require Chaos
I’m not sharing this for sympathy. I’m sharing it to save someone time.
You don’t need to hit rock bottom to outgrow a bad pattern. You don’t have to trade your peace for potential. And “he seems nice” should never outweigh the fact that he’s inconsistent, avoidant, or emotionally unsafe.
I’ve ignored signs. Justified behavior. Romanticized red flags. But now, I know better.
Peace over potential. Boundaries over breadcrumbs.
And never again mistake pain for passion.
Lence in Layers 