A year later

It has been a while since I wrote here. Partly because something shifted in me, and partly because something shifted around me. I was being harassed, my photos were stolen, my account hacked. Somewhere in all that my sense of safety changed. The idea of putting my life online, of being visibly present, suddenly felt impossible. I miss the freedom though. There was something beautiful about that era. Speaking openly, finding strangers who were in their own seasons of transition, processing my past in real time while building a new life that felt unsteady and hopeful at the same time.

It has now been over a year since the divorce. A year that has felt both endless and incredibly short. I have traveled more than I have in years, laughed more, reconnected with old friends, met new ones, and learned more about myself than I meant to. The drama of it all feels distant now, like a life I barely recognize. I even stopped smoking. I thought it would be harder, but so much of that habit was tied to carrying the weight of someone else’s unhappiness. Once that lifted, everything stopped pulling me in the same way. I spend more time living now and far less time spiraling in my garden. That feels like progress.

I have not been very creative publicly, but I have still been writing quietly. Maybe because parts of this new life feel a little too fragile to expose. But I am ready to give an update.

I have been dating again. I took the summer off and focused on sunshine, friends, and exploring Italy. After Vienna, and a few questionable encounters, I hit a point where I thought I was done with men. Everything felt transactional and empty. I decided men were animals and life would be simpler alone. Eventually I came back to it with clearer boundaries. Quicker to reject, better at seeing red flags, unwilling to waste time on anyone who feels like a step backwards. I finally feel whole again, with space for something real, not just distractions pretending to be romance.

Dating still feels like an emotional obstacle course. The worst men are always the most fun and resisting that magnetism takes effort. I even turned down Rockstar recently, which is a small miracle. He is chaos disguised as charm, absolutely terrible for me and absolutely intoxicating. Saying no only made him try harder, which made it harder to keep saying no. But it was the right choice. When you give your energy to the wrong people, you leave no room for the right ones.

And lately, the people I have met have been gentler. More human. At least in theory. One in particular has started to take up space in my mind. It feels absurdly teenage, the flutters and the softness, I seem to really like him. I have not felt this way since I actually was a teenager, so the nostalgia makes sense.

I like him more than I probably should at this stage. It is new, undefined and delicate, and I am trying not to build fantasies out of late night conversations. Still, he feels comforting in a way that surprises me. With Chef, I confused familiarity with connection. I liked being distracted by him, not him. This time is different.

He is not someone I want as an escape. If anything, I like him despite my usual desire for distraction. He is not a waste twenty thousand on a club table kind of guy. He is grounded, normal, unpretentious. Almost too good, which makes me suspicious by default. I keep wondering if anyone can actually be this sweet. He is steady, laid back, the type who does not unravel at two in the morning, which leaves me wondering if I am ok being the chaotic one in a relationship. Maybe that is fine. Maybe I do not need to be the good girl to have something real. My pattern of chasing bad boys so I can be the good girl has not exactly delivered results worth repeating.

I keep telling myself to stay open and keep dating like I usually do. I’m a strong believer in old school dating, you casually see people until the conversation of exclusivity is had. But I do not want to. I want to let myself get carried away a little, even if it is impractical. I do not know what he’s doing on his side, and that uncertainty makes me feel slightly ridiculous.

I was just in Paris. There were a few old flames there, men who immediately offered dinners and nights out the moment they knew I had arrived. Normally I would have gone, for the fun or the chaos or the distraction. But I did not. Not because it would have been cheating, but because it felt wrong for this moment. My conscience is clean, even if I had a few moments of wondering whether I should be letting a handsome Frenchman spin me around a dance floor after cocktails. But the truth is that I like this man. It has been a long time since I have said that about anyone.

Maybe it is timing. Maybe I am finally ready. Maybe it is just the calm after a year of chaos. I do not know. But this is the first time since the divorce that I have looked at someone and considered the real questions. Could it work? Could it become something? Could I risk myself again?

He is thoughtful in the ways that matter when you are a grown adult. I mentioned my frustration with my dentist, and without me asking he arranged an appointment with someone he trusts. It was such a simple thing, but it felt unexpectedly intimate. And I love kissing him, which is rare for me. My ex and I used to joke that we could never do those ten minute kissing challenges on Married at First Sight. With this man I could, easily. It feels warm and soft and uncomplicated.

He gives me butterflies. I want real time with him. I am barely opening the apps. I am not replying to anyone sliding into my Instagram. I am here, focused, until I know whether this is something or not.

I like being wrapped up in bed with him. I feel safe. Warm. His personality is the opposite of what I usually fall for, and maybe that is why it feels like growth. Maybe I have finally reached the point where stability feels interesting instead of boring.

So here I am, moving forward, trying something that feels like it could become real. It scares me. I am not entirely sure I am ready. I said a few months ago that I almost was. It’s kind of wild, if he met me 6 months ago none of this would have worked. I was still in a different world then. Somehow the version of me now and the version of him now appeared at the same moment.

So the question is simple and terrifying. Am I ready? Will this be my first real relationship since the divorce? Will it become heartbreak or something meaningful?

I do not know yet. But for the first time in a long time, I think I am willing to find out.

For those who have moved on after a long relationship, how long did it take you to feel ready?