Leading up to my surgery and during my recovery, I put myself out there on Facebook Dating. I had three reasons for doing so. I know I don’t owe anyone an explanation for the choices I make in my life, but I wanted to give a little background and context anyway.

First, I simply wanted to see what was out there. I’ve never really done online dating. I met one person online almost 20 years ago, and that relationship lasted a couple of years and was a total disaster. Aside from that, everyone I’ve been involved with has been someone I met in person—through work or mutual friends.

Second, I’ve been on a renewed journey to learn Spanish, and I’m taking it seriously. I wanted to connect with native speakers, thinking it could help immerse me more deeply—learning slang, dialect, and improving both comprehension and retention.

And finally, I genuinely wanted to find a new connection that wasn’t an ex. I’ve felt stuck in the same pattern for over a decade, and I wanted to push myself outside of that comfort zone.

What surprised me most about getting back out there?

Almost all of the men I found even remotely interesting were considerably younger than me. Out of the 15–20 conversations I had, all but 2–3 were with men in their 30s.

The first man I connected with kept a conversation going for several weeks. He was 32, a native of Mexico living in Iowa for work. He was very sweet and, within the first few days, was already talking about a future together. We talked for hours every day, and despite the age difference, I really thought there might be something real there.

I knew the age gap, language barrier, and cultural differences would bring challenges—but I was open to them. He spoke little to no English, so translation apps became our norm. He tried calling a few times, and eventually I answered once. It was… rough. We spent eight minutes trying to say a few words, then nervously laughing without understanding each other.

He was optimistic and encouraged us to keep trying. I even made plans for us to meet in person, thinking body language and context might help bridge the gap. Both times, he canceled at the last minute—after he should have already been on his way. That was disappointing. I didn’t try again.

After I declined a few more calls, the conversation faded. I chose not to chase it. The barriers created too much misunderstanding, and I let it go. I learned a LOT of Spanish from our conversations, so I have no regrets.

After that, I continued talking to whoever reached out. Most of them were native Spanish speakers. A handful weren’t, and those are the ones who still message me occasionally—respectfully—on Snapchat or Facebook. Those conversations have stayed casual and friendly.

The rest? They asked for nudes, offered to send them, or got pushy about meeting up. Red flags everywhere. Several had to be blocked due to outright disrespect.

So far, I haven’t felt any real romantic connection with anyone I’ve continued talking to—but I’m open. I’m not in a rush. I’m perfectly fine keeping things as friendships unless something naturally grows.

What patterns did I notice—in others and in myself?

That first connection brought out some of my old attachment tendencies. I wanted something real, something fast, something strong. But within a couple of weeks, it fell flat.

That forced some self-reflection. I realized there’s no need to cling to something that clearly isn’t working. I know my worth, and I understand the complexities that come with dating me. If someone isn’t right for me—or I’m not right for them—it’s better to let it go early instead of holding onto “what if.”

As for patterns in the men… most seem to be looking for hookups or intimate photos. I’m sure there are serious people out there, but so far I haven’t found anyone who truly aligns—someone who can hold a meaningful conversation or stay respectful beyond a couple of days. I’m not saying that’s everyone—just the trend I’ve experienced.

At this point in my life, what am I actually looking for?

I want someone to share life with. Someone who can fit into my world just as naturally as I could fit into theirs. Felix is, of course, a huge part of that equation.

I want to be fully myself—quirks, weirdness, all of it—without being mocked or criticized. I’m happy with my life as it is. I’m no longer willing to bend or reshape myself for someone else, which is something I’ve done far too often in the past. And in return, I don’t want anyone to change for me either.

I just want it to feel easy. Good energy. Natural understanding. Real connection.

And if that doesn’t come along? I’m completely okay staying single and continuing to enjoy the life I’ve built.