A Love Letter to Myself

Valentine's Day 2025

For the second year in a row, my Valentine’s Day schedule is wide open. No weddings, no last-minute floral orders, no running around making sure everyone else has the perfect evening. And you know what? I’m taking full advantage of this moment.

This year, February 14th is for me.

I’m going dancing. And not just any kind of dancing—I’m talking about a slow drag, body-to-body, rhythm-guided kind of night where I can feel the music in my bones. If I happen to get my booty rubbed on in the process? Well… I won’t complain.

And then, on Sunday, I’m seeing Alvin Ailey. It’s been over 15 years since I last sat in a theater, watching those dancers move like poetry in motion, and I can already feel the chills running through me just thinking about it. I need this moment—the art, the movement, the reminder that I, too, am fluid and evolving.

But beyond the dancing and the performance, this Valentine’s Day marks something even bigger for me.

It’s Time to Try Again

I’m ready to start dating again.

I won’t lie—just typing that feels big. It’s been two years since I last gave a man a real shot, and even longer since I truly put myself out there. Part of me has been hiding, using busyness as a shield, convincing myself that I didn’t have time or that I was better off alone.

But the truth? I’ve been scared. Scared to date myself, let alone someone else. Scared to let someone see me fully, in all my joy and complexity.

I’ve heard the horror stories. Oh, the dating scene in Atlanta is a mess. Girl, you better be careful. These men out here… whew. And maybe some of it is true. Maybe I’ll have some awkward dates, a few text messages left on read, some moments where I wonder if I made the right choice.

But what if it’s not all bad?

What if I meet someone who makes me laugh until my stomach hurts?
What if I find conversation so effortless that my usual overthinking takes a backseat?
What if I actually enjoy getting to know someone again?

I’ve made my list, the non-negotiables, the desires. But beyond the checklist, what I really want is the confidence to try. To flirt. To hold eye contact. To remember what it feels like to be seen.

I won’t rush it. I’m not in a hurry to be anyone’s anything. But I am open. And for the first time in a long time, that feels like enough.

So, here’s to Valentine’s Day 2025. A night of dancing, a day of art, and the start of something new—whatever that may be.

And if nothing else? At least I’ll have a good dance, a good show, and the sweetest reminder that I am already worthy of love—mine first, and then maybe, just maybe, someone else’s too.

Here goes. 💛