My swiping process used to be a ruthless, two-second evaluation. I’d look at the first picture, and my brain would make an instant call. It was a superficial system, and it yielded superficial results. I was about to apply this same logic to a new platform I was trying, but one profile stopped me in my tracks. The woman, Elena, was beautiful,
"You're just lonely after the breakup." "An online thing with someone in another country? It's a fantasy, a phase. You'll get over it." My friends meant well, I'm sure. Their concern was rooted in a traditional view of relationships, one where love is something you find within your own zip code. To them, my burgeoning connection with a woman named
My dating life could be summarized in one word: overthinking. I would spend hours crafting the perfect first message. I’d analyze every reply, trying to read between the lines. I’d map out conversation topics before a date like a general planning a campaign. Every interaction was weighed down by a crippling need to do it "right," which, ironica