Over the last four years, I’ve been dating a lot. In fact, there has rarely been a week when I wouldn’t go out on a romantic rendezvous of some sort.
It was a surprising reaction to a breakup, and yet I was craving company and – above all – reassurance that the end of a relationship doesn’t mean the absolute end of love.
From today’s perspective, I can finally see it was almost an addiction, a desperate attempt to experience appreciation and find hope and again.
Since then, I’ve gone through a phase of self-imposed dating detox. I still go out occasionally, but only if I consider it really worth my time.
Sounds selfish, I know. But believe me, those Tinder nightmares you might have heard of are a grim reality of modern dating.
Surprisingly enough, this new approach has led to far better results: I am more confident and optimistic about the desirable outcome.
In the meantime, I’ve learned that being single can feel fantastic and I’m waiting for no man, while I make my own magic happen.