What if I reassessed everything I thought I knew? What if I walked away from the script that was handed to me?

What if, instead of conforming, I shamelessly embraced what I want, what I need, what feels right, and what will bring me peace? 

I once thought I was a badass because I could reject people for the tiniest little things. But in reality, I was being a closed-hearted, overthinking perfectionist who was riddled with repetitive doubts, futile questions, and uncomfortable confusion. 

My overthinking was well-hidden, sure – but it still had a way of sabotaging potentially good relationships and causing me to make regretful mistakes. 

I overthought every move and struggled with self-doubt, even when I thought I was following the right “rules” given to me by the media, my family and friends, and my society at large. 

11 years ago, when I first started the “talking stage” with a guy named John in college, I was still trying to listen to everyone else – at least at first. 

I thought about what I heard from friends about “being chill,” what I heard from society about “playing hard to get,” and “not being too emotional,” and even what I read in a “dating guide” about doing specific things to make someone want you. Pretty much everything in media and society had told me to act like your best self in from of the person you were dating – to create a sort of effortless perfection persona in order to get someone to like you.  

I tried. But none of it truly made sense to me, or felt right to me. And there was a particular moment when I failed at all of this advice miserably – and had a “poorly timed” panic attack. 

EFFORTLESS IMPERFECT PANIC ATTACK – A Love Story

Like many relationships, my relationship with my husband started with questions. Questions like “What do you like to do for fun?” and “Do you have siblings?” 

But unlike many relationships, it also started with “exposing my crazy” – or at least, what I thought was my crazy at the time, just a few weeks into the talking stage.

I was struggling with panic attacks at the time (probably from sleeping an average of 2 hours a night, but I digress), and I was very good at hiding them. I didn’t want people to know – and especially not anyone I was starting to really like. What would he think? I mean, I don’t think that hyperventilating in the fetal position screams “effortless perfection.”

Now, imagine me, in my room alone, having one of these full-blown panic attacks that seemingly came out of nowhere – and then getting a text from John, who I was only casually dating at the time – not even Facebook official. 

He was asking where I was and that he wanted to meet up. I have no idea how or why I even looked at my phone, or how or why I even replied – but something inside pushed me to simply reply “in room,” and then get back to crying. 

I didn’t fully grasp what I was asking for. I wasn’t consciously aware that I was about to show him the side of me I’d always tried to hide — the part of me that felt too vulnerable, too messy, too “crazy.”

Well, he came. And that moment — when I exposed the part of me I thought no one would ever understand — changed everything. 

When he opened the door, he saw me balled up, tears streaming down my face, hiding under a chair. Again – not cute. Not me putting my best self forward. Not me being chill. Instead, me being in one of THE most vulnerable looking states possible. 

But he didn’t judge, didn’t back away and say “oh, I’ll come back later,” which would’ve been totally reasonable. 

Instead of being scared off or overwhelmed by my panic, this person sat down next to me and just listened. This person held me and supported me, even though he wasn’t expecting this crisis at all. This person praised my vulnerability and started to become more vulnerable himself over time. 

This person, a few years later, became my husband.

THE POWER OF QUESTIONS

That night, what started as “exposing my crazy” led to a whole new level of connection. 

Why, you ask? 

This deeply vulnerable moment opened the door to more vulnerability. The ice had more than broken: it had melted and evaporated. 

Thus, the questions we posed in the following months were real, not driven by fear of judgment or the need to fit into society’s expectations of what should be asked at “this stage.” 

So we asked everything: about our pasts, our fears, our desires, our regrets, our successes and our mistakes. It was through these authentic questions that we built a solid foundation, one rooted in curiosity, vulnerability, and shared understanding.

It was also after that moment when I began to question some of the rules – stated or unstated, explicit or subtle – that I was carrying around. 

Of course, we didn’t just magically and immediately get it all right and live happily ever after. That’s not how it works.

But in the years to follow, I noticed a pattern. It became clear that every time we hit a rough patch, it was because one (or both) of us was trying too hard to be someone we weren’t — forcing ourselves into roles we thought we should play, rather than being honest about who we really were.

When we fought, it was because we didn’t have a solid sense of who we really were at that moment, or we were too caught up in what we thought we “should” be doing/saying/thinking/feeling.

I used to think, “I’m supposed to not like this” or “he shouldn’t act this way,” but those thoughts were nothing more than reflections of the molds we’d been shaped by, rather than reflections of what made authentic sense to me.

And when it came to the biggest hurdle in our relationship – sex – I had my own struggles: challenges based on religious and childhood trauma that made everything so difficult to navigate. 

I used to tell myself – whether consciously or subconsciously – that “I’m supposed to act this way,” or “I’m obligated to do this,” or “sex for just pleasure is wrong,” or “I shouldn’t ask for more,” and the list goes on. But that internal dialogue was tied to an external code that didn’t reflect my own truth.

It wasn’t until I started questioning and then creating my own moral code and set of standards — one that truly aligned with my values and desires — that everything started to shift. 

I began to use my “overthinking” and questioning mind as a tool to empower myself instead of as a burden to hinder myself.

THE BIGGEST TEST

And this self-discovery faced the greatest test during a surprising conversation with my husband…

…where he brought up the idea of divorce. 

At a time when most people would have reacted from a place of fear or anger, I chose something different. 

I chose thoughtful, mindful questions instead of knee-jerk reactions. 

I consciously decided to lean into curiosity, nonattachment, and nonjudgement. 

The result was building mutual understanding and working through underlying concerns we both realized we had. 

In that moment – once again, just like the panic attack situation years prior – we were able to let go of how society tells us to act and react, and it was a huge turning point for our individual selves and for our relationship. 

GROWING TOGETHER THROUGH EFFECTIVE QUESTION-ASKING

From there, we began to grow again, together, by reinforcing what made us strong in the first place — question-asking. 

But instead of just questioning everything about each other, we also started questioning everything we thought we knew about ourselves, how we respond to our conditioning, and what we truly want out of ourselves, our relationships, and our lives. 

Reinstating thoughtful, strategic question-asking after a turbulent time opened the door for us to create shared rules, write our own script, and approach our relationship with more:

• ease that led to peace
• nonattachment that led to empowerment and
• a higher level of authenticity and realness that led to greater fulfillment.

Overall, this practice of asking myself and others the right questions has not only saved me personally – through understanding my own beliefs outside of dogma to taking healing steps away from trauma and beyond – but it’s also saved my relationship. 

And that’s the heart of what I want to share with you: how you can “save” your love life, too, at any stage. 

Regardless of whether you’re looking to go on better dates, hoping to avoid toxic people and patterns, striving to overcome a painful breakup, or else, dating – at any stage – is not about following society’s rules, nor is it about playing small, pretending to be someone you’re not, or following hyper-specific “do this/don’t do that” dating strategies. 

The key to unlocking true love is about asking the most impactful questions to yourself and others that’ll lead to authentic, transformative answers. 

It’s about being shamelessly open, creating your own code, and using curiosity to guide you toward finding and fostering the love and connection you truly deserve.

So, ask yourself: 

What if I questioned the beliefs and values holding me back from the love I really want?