I saw one of those little internet prompts floating around the timeline today that said: “Honesty hour… What’s hard about dating you 🤔” It made me laugh out loud, mostly because my immediate thought was to close the app, drink water dramatically, stare at the ceiling fan, and ask myself, How much time do you have? That question sounds so simple and harmless until you realize you actually have to be self-aware to answer it. And self-awareness? Baby, that is emotionally expensive. It requires you to dig through your own baggage instead of just pointing out how heavy everyone else’s is.
If you’ve been hanging around Stories From Tina for a while, you know we are big on accountability and personal growth here. It’s incredibly easy to point the finger at everyone else’s red flags, but it takes a real level of maturity to sit down, look in the mirror, and say, “Yeah, I am absolutely a handful.” I am a walking paradox with a laugh track.
Now, obviously, I’m off the market. Mo has already signed the lifetime contract (and he’s the real MVP for putting up with me daily). But looking back at my dating era, and just looking at myself as a partner, a friend, and a human being in general, I can freely admit that I come with some serious Terms and Conditions. Dating me—or even just being close to me—is probably equal parts comforting, confusing, hilarious, exhausting, and occasionally like trying to fold a fitted sheet.
So, in the spirit of absolute transparency—and because I can’t talk about everyone else’s red flags without acknowledging my own brightly decorated warning signs—here is the extended fine print of what makes loving me a bit of a challenge.
Unpacking the Red Flags: My Dating Realities
1. The Leo of It All
Let’s just get the most obvious one out of the way: I am a Leo. I didn’t invent the rules of astrology, I just passionately and dramatically enforce them. Being a Leo means I have what some might gently call “main character energy.”
The Delicate Balance of Attention and Personal Space
I need attention, but not just any attention. It has to be the exact right kind of attention at the exact right time. It’s a very delicate, confusing balance of wanting to be worshipped and also needing my personal space. If I’m pouting about something, I absolutely want you to ask me what’s wrong. But I also want the opportunity to dramatically sigh and say “nothing” at least twice before I actually tell you.
But loving hard is the other side of this coin. If I love you, you’re gonna feel it in your bones. I will protect you fiercely and champion your dreams. But if I’m hurt? Oh, you’re gonna feel that too. I don’t really do “halfway” emotionally.
2. I Overthink… Professionally
When people say they overthink, they usually mean: “Oh no, I reread a text twice.” No, honey. I mean I can turn a simple “Okay 👍” into a 14-episode psychological crime documentary narrated by my anxiety.
Suddenly I’m asking myself: Why was there no exclamation point? Why was it one thumb and not two? Are they mad? Are they secretly in witness protection? Did I do something in 2018 that they just remembered? By the time the person responds again, I’ve already experienced heartbreak, recovery, spiritual enlightenment, and emotional bankruptcy. Half the time, the other person was just in traffic. My brain occasionally treats uncertainty like it’s an Olympic sport, which means I sometimes need verbal reassurance just to know we are on the same page.
3. The Morning Coffee Protocol
The hardest part about dealing with me in the first two hours of the day is accepting that I am legally not a functioning human being until I have my coffee. And I don’t mean just any coffee. I have a very specific dependency on the Philz Tesora blend, complete with heavy cream and sugar. Honestly though, my caffeine loyalty also extends to a perfectly crafted drink from Starbucks or Coffee Bean—I need my fixes, and I need them made right.
If you try to hand me a standard, bitter black drip coffee from a random gas station drive-thru, I will look at you like you’ve just insulted my entire lineage. Mo learned very early on that the path to a peaceful, loving household is paved with heavily creamed coffee. If the morning order is compromised, the vibe for the entire morning is compromised. There is no negotiating with me before the caffeine hits.
4. The Homebody Paradox (Please Just Text Me)
Let’s be real: I am a free spirit who loves to go with the flow, but that flow usually leads directly back to my living room couch. I am a massive homebody. Generally speaking, I kind of hate people and the chaos of the outside world. If I don’t have to be outside, I won’t be.
And if we are communicating? Please, for the love of everything, just text me. I will text you nonstop, all day long, dropping paragraphs, links, and memes like it’s a full-time job. But if my phone actually rings? I am staring at it until it goes to voicemail. Unless you are my husband, Mo, do not call me. My phone anxiety is real, and my text game is elite. Respect the boundary.
The only exception to this rule: Live entertainment. If we are going to a concert at the Kia Forum to scream lyrics, or if we are hitting up a theme park so I can ride roller coasters and meet characters, I am out the door. Otherwise? I am in my sweatpants.
5. Small Talk is My Enemy (Bring on the Aliens)
Because I’m a free spirit, I require partners and friends with incredibly high emotional intelligence. I don’t want to talk about the weather. I want you to tell me exactly how you feel, what you want, and what is going through your mind. I want the weird, deep conversations. Tell me a secret nobody else knows. Tell me something good.
Sit on the couch with me and passionately explain your theory about how the aliens are about to take over. Let’s deep-dive into how certain TV shows were mysteriously taken off the air because they were showing society things that were just a little too close to the truth. Let me inside your brain. If you can’t keep up with that level of conversational chaos and intellectual curiosity, we aren’t going to make it.
6. My Primary Language is a Playlist
Here is a fatal flaw for anyone who isn’t musically inclined: music is my primary language. I communicate in lyrics, melodies, and highly specific song pairings.
If we get into a disagreement and I send you a curated Spotify link instead of a text paragraph, you need to understand the deep emotional weight of track four. You can’t just passively listen to the radio in the car with me; you have to decode the soundtrack of my life. If I am trying to explain my mood after a long, draining week and you don’t understand why a specific R&B beat drop perfectly encapsulates my soul in that exact moment, we are going to have a serious emotional disconnect.
7. I Notice Energy Changes Immediately
This is both a gift and a curse. I can tell when something feels off before words are even spoken. Tone changes. Distance changes. Patterns change.
And once I notice it? My spirit starts conducting investigations like I’m emotionally employed by the FBI. I pay attention. Not in a toxic or controlling way, I just… notice things. So if you suddenly become distant, colder, inconsistent, or weird, please know my brain has already opened 16 tabs about it. I don’t enjoy guessing games, and I can smell nonsense from a mile away.
8. My Humor Shows Up at the Worst Times
I joke when I’m uncomfortable. I joke when I’m stressed. I joke during serious conversations. Sometimes humor is how I survive difficult moments without drowning in them.
So yes, there’s a very real possibility that during a deep, emotional conversation, I might suddenly say something ridiculous and accidentally derail the moment. You might say, “We need to communicate better,” and I will likely respond, “Absolutely. We should probably also buy mozzarella sticks.” My humor isn’t an invitation to play with my peace; it’s just the stretchy tape holding the fragile pieces together when life gets chaotic.
Relationship Boundaries, Accountability, and Loyalty
9. The Fierce Protector Clause
Let me be very clear: I am extremely protective of my friends, my partner, and my kids, Noah and Maureen. I will give you my last dollar. I will go completely out of my way to care for you. If someone is talking about you when you aren’t in the room, I am shutting it down immediately. I will defend you with my whole chest and have your back through it all.
However… having your back does not mean I will blindly cosign your foolishness. If you are stepping out of line, not being yourself, or just dead wrong, I am going to let you know. Now, I will never embarrass you in public—I will pull you aside and tell you in private because I respect you. But I am absolutely calling you out.
10. The Accountability Dynamic (We Fight, We Fix It)
And if you get mad at me for calling you out? That’s fine! We can fight about it. That is what real friends and real partners do. I would much rather we get angry, argue, hash it all out, and be perfectly fine two hours later asking what’s for dinner.
Do not be the person who gets mad, holds a grudge, ghosts me, blocks me on every social media app, or secretly tries to “get your lick back” without ever communicating what I did or said wrong. If I messed up, tell me! Tell me how you feel so we can actually fix the situation and figure out what went wrong. Conflict without communication is just chaos, and I only have time for growth.
11. The Trauma, The “Loose Screws,” and The Vengeance Factor
Let’s just lay all the cards on the table: I have a lot of loose screws in my head. I am not completely all there, and there is a reason for it. I’ve been through a lot of things in my life. I mean, I have been through hell and back. I’ve survived being raped in a park right in front of my child while a gun was involved. I’ve had a gun pointed at me multiple times.
When you survive that level of profound darkness, it changes your DNA. Because of everything I’ve endured, I will be the first to admit that I am crazy. Maybe even borderline psychotic when pushed. But that’s exactly why I deeply, intensely care about the people in my life who care about me. You want me on your team.
Navigating Vengeance and Energy Levels
But if you cross me? That is entirely on you. I am the person you would much rather be cool with than have as an enemy, because I will find out everything. I am an elite investigator when crossed, and I always get my vengeance back.
…Well, almost always. The plot twist to my villain era is that it heavily depends on my energy levels. The truth is, I am sometimes incredibly lazy and just don’t want to do anything at all. So you might cross me, and I might plot an elaborate, foolproof revenge strategy in my head… and then decide my couch and a nap sound much better. But don’t test your luck.
Lifestyle Habits and Personal Growth
12. The Domestic Division of Labor (or: I Don’t Cook)
Let’s get one major thing straight: I do not cook. Yes, I might know exactly what goes into a life-changing pot of authentic Nigerian Okra soup, but standing over a hot stove on a random Tuesday night? Absolutely not happening.
Because I know what good food tastes like, my standards are annoyingly high, but my desire to actually prepare it is completely nonexistent. I am a massive foodie, which means I love to go out to eat. But before we even get in the car, I am doing a deep-dive culinary investigation. I need to read the Google reviews. I need to see the pictures of the food, the plating, and the restaurant lighting. If it doesn’t look like an experience, we aren’t going. We need to be going to a nice steakhouse or eating high-quality sushi.
When it comes to the house, the rule is simple: you have to be the one cooking, and I will happily do the cleaning. If neither of us wants to cook or scrub pans, then we are hiring someone to do both for us. I am not the partner who is going to have a homemade, four-course meal waiting on the table at 6:00 PM, and if you expect that, you have the wrong girl.
13. The Workaholic Reality
The main reason for my strict “no cooking” policy is that I am, down to my core, a massive workaholic. I genuinely like being busy. I would much rather be working, building something, or checking off a massive to-do list than spending two hours prepping dinner.
My brain is constantly in overdrive. Between navigating the daily demands of nursing (blessedly away from the chaos of the ER or Med-Surg, but still exhausting!), grinding through Biology classes for college, writing these long-form essays, and trying to figure out SEO and Facebook Boost Post strategies to grow this blog, my schedule is packed.
I thrive on that hustle. Dating a workaholic is hard because my attention is often split in a dozen different directions. I need a partner who doesn’t take my ambition personally, who understands that when I’m locked in on a project, I am in my own world, and who can keep the household running while I am chasing my goals.
14. I Am Independent to a Fault
Because I am so used to surviving and hustling, I struggle with asking for help. I will be stressed, tired, emotionally fried, running on Tesora coffee and sheer determination, and still trying to handle everything myself. Sometimes people mistake that fierce independence for emotional distance. But truthfully? A lot of independent people are just exhausted people who learned not to rely on others too quickly. Breaking down that wall takes time.
15. The High-Maintenance / Low-Maintenance Paradox
Here is a confusing dichotomy for you: I am somehow incredibly low-maintenance and unapologetically high-maintenance at the exact same time.
I absolutely like nice things. I want the fancy dinners, the beautiful aesthetics, and the quality experiences. But at my core? I have a huge, bleeding heart for humanity. I am deeply empathetic to what is happening in society and the economy right now. Dating me means you have to balance the woman who wants the high-end steakhouse with the woman who will gladly spend her weekends serving at a soup kitchen or emptying her wallet to donate to the homeless. I feel the weight of the world heavily. If we are driving and I see someone struggling, my heart breaks for them. I care about people, I care about where society is headed, and I need a partner who understands that my love for the finer things will never overshadow my empathy for human struggle.
16. The Shih Tzu Hierarchy
When you date me, you aren’t just dating me. You are auditioning for Daisy.
My little white Shih Tzu is the true queen of the castle. What is fundamentally hard about loving me is accepting your place in the household hierarchy, which is solidly below a small, fluffy dog. If Daisy wants to cuddle in your spot on the couch, you are moving. If Daisy side-eyes you when you walk in the room, I am immediately suspicious of your character. It takes a very secure man to accept that he is, at best, the second most important being in the living room.
The Quirks, The Silence, and The Reality Checks
17. I Pretend I’m Fine Before I’m Actually Fine
This one right here? This is the one that sneaks up on people. I’ll say, “I’m okay,” while my brain is loading 47 emotional tabs like a broken laptop.
I’m the type that processes things internally first. I don’t always immediately say what hurt me because part of me is trying to understand it, minimize it, convince myself I’m being dramatic, and then accidentally become irritated anyway. So I’m sitting there quiet, and when asked if I’m upset, I’ll say “no”—which is technically true because I haven’t fully organized my emotions yet. Give me 35 minutes and a hot shower, though? I will emerge with a full, heavily researched presentation on exactly why my feelings were hurt.
18. The True Crime Lullabies
If we are trying to wind down for the night, just know my idea of “relaxing” usually involves a narrator describing a quiet, suburban town where something went terribly wrong. I am deeply obsessed with true crime documentaries, podcasts, and forensic investigations. I fall asleep to the soothing sounds of Keith Morrison unraveling a mystery. It’s comforting to me. But for the person sleeping next to me? It probably feels like a mild psychological test to see what kind of alibis I’m mentally preparing.
19. The Face That Cannot Lie
I might be able to hold my tongue (sometimes), but my face has absolutely zero chill. I have no poker face. If I think someone is being ridiculous, lying, or annoying, my facial expressions will broadcast it in 4K high definition before my brain even registers it. Loving me means constantly nudging me under the table or giving me “the look” at social events because my eyebrows have already started a fight.
20. The Memory Vault (With Receipts)
I forgive, but my brain archives everything with timestamps, dates, and direct quotes. If we have an argument and you try to backtrack, please know I can and will recall exactly what you said on a Tuesday in October of 2019 while you were wearing a blue shirt. I don’t use this to be petty (okay, maybe just a little), but my memory for emotional details is frighteningly sharp. You cannot gaslight a woman who keeps mental receipts.
21. The Thermostat Tyranny
I am perpetually freezing. My ideal indoor climate is basically a dry sauna. If you love me, you must accept that my feet will feel like icicles against your legs in bed, and I will shamelessly steal the blankets. Mo knows that if he touches the thermostat without a written proposal and a two-thirds majority vote, he is risking his own peace. Prepare to wear layers indoors.
22. The 2 AM DIY Demons
Because I am fiercely independent and completely impatient, if I decide the living room needs to be rearranged or a new bookshelf needs to be built, it has to happen right now. Even if “right now” is midnight on a Wednesday. I will drag furniture across the floor and attempt to decipher IKEA instructions while everyone else is sleeping. You either have to wake up and help me, or sleep through the sounds of me aggressively using an Allen wrench.
23. The Unapologetic “No”
A lot of people will make up elaborate excuses when they don’t want to go somewhere: “Oh, I have a headache,” or “I think my car is making a noise.” Not me. As I’ve grown and embraced my boundaries, “No” has become a complete sentence. If I don’t have the social battery to attend an event, I will just say, “I really don’t feel like putting on real clothes today, so I’m not coming.” It’s liberating for me, but it sometimes mortifies the people around me who are used to performing societal politeness.
24. The Over-Packing Panic
We are going away for two days. Will I need four different outfit changes, three pairs of shoes, a portable pharmacy, and an extra laptop charger? Probably not. Am I going to pack it anyway? Absolutely. My anxiety tells me I need to be prepared for a sudden formal gala, a hiking expedition, or an apocalyptic event, all during a weekend trip to Vegas. Please leave half the trunk empty for my “just in case” bags.
25. The “Do Not Disturb” Recharging Mode
Sometimes, between the nursing shifts, the studying, the kids, and my own racing thoughts, my social battery hits exactly 0%. When this happens, I go into total shutdown mode. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to be touched, and I don’t want to make decisions about dinner. It has absolutely nothing to do with you and everything to do with me needing to sit in absolute silence so my brain can reboot. You have to learn not to take the silence personally.
26. The “I Told You So” Struggle
I have a very high intuition, and because I observe patterns (refer to point 7), I usually know how a situation is going to play out before it happens. When I try to warn you, and you don’t listen, and then the exact thing I predicted happens? The physical restraint it takes for me not to say “I told you so” is staggering. I will try my hardest to just be supportive, but my eyes will definitely be saying, I literally told you this would happen.
Thoughts on Self-Awareness in Relationships
I think the older we get, the more we realize love isn’t about finding somebody perfect. It’s about finding somebody whose flaws you can understand compassionately while they understand yours, too.
Accountability is a humbling thing. Being with me requires an endless supply of patience, a high tolerance for astrological justifications, the ability to step up in the kitchen while I work, an open mind for alien conspiracy theories, and a willingness to be second-in-command to a dog. You are not going to get a flawless romance with me, but you will get someone who is fiercely loyal, deeply loving, insanely protective, and profoundly authentic. I will make sure life is never, ever boring.
Mo certainly seems to think it’s worth the hassle—or at least, he knows better than to say otherwise while I’m holding my coffee.
If you had to answer the “Honesty Hour” prompt, what’s the hardest thing about dating you? Let’s hear it in the comments.