What I Want In A Relationship
Clarity, Depth, and Authenticity
The scene: I spent the evening after Christmas sitting at my best friend’s kitchen table, catching up on the crazy-ass-shit the Universe threw at us this year and munching on cookies before I hit the road for home. While two little boys chased each other with remote control cars, a third sat across from us, working on a puzzle from Santa that we took turns helping him with—careful with our words and conversation in front of their little ears.
Making harmless conversation, Jill turned to me and asked if I was still talking with Dreamy and what was going on there. Her words sat heavy. I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came. Not because I didn’t know what I wanted—but because I wasn’t sure how to put it into words.
I had been chatting on and off with him since right before Halloween. We were more than nothing, but not yet something, and to be honest, I was really struggling with my emotions on this one but couldn’t place why. I stared at her, shrugged my shoulders, and said, "I don't know." It was weird—at that moment, I couldn't even tell her how I felt about him because I truly didn't know.
Doing what best friends do, she cracked open a door that got my brain spinning when she told me to forget about him for a moment and asked, "What do you want?"
That question sat with me longer than I expected. What do I want? What do I truly want? What are my non-negotiables?
Again, I answered her with silence and a shrug—something quite uncommon for me. For some reason, the heightened emotions of being home for the holidays paired with her innocent questions sent me into a spiral of uncertainty. I could feel something shifting in me but couldn’t place it.
After a few days, I let my brain do what it does—process, analyze, break things down—and waited for the pieces to come together. And when they did, I realized I did know. I just hadn’t given myself the space to put it into words. So, I did what I do best—sat down and wrote it all out.
I want a connection where I can fully exhale—where I don’t have to perform, prove, or shrink myself. Someone who can sit in silence with me, share thoughts, and exist in the same space without expectation.
I want sexual exploration and adventure—not just in the physical sense but in the emotional depth that comes with complete trust. The kind of connection where nothing is off-limits, and curiosity is welcome.
I want to feel seen, heard, and respected for who I am, as I am. I am no one’s project, and I am not here to save anyone.
I am not interested in another child to take care of or someone whose emotions I have to manage. I have my own responsibilities and inner world to hold. A relationship should be a partnership, not a caretaking role.
I don’t want another stressor to worry about providing for. Financial independence is important to me, and I don’t want to carry the weight of another adult’s survival.
I refuse to take on another thing I have to fix. Growth is a given, but I need someone walking their own path—doing the work because they want to, not because I show them how.
I am not looking for someone who wants to live together or date with the intention of marriage. I am open to whatever unfolds, but I am not searching for a traditional, expected trajectory.
Communication is everything. Say what you mean. Mean what you say. I am literal to a fault—when words are said, I take them seriously. I need someone who understands that words carry weight.
I don’t want to chase, and I don’t want to be chased. I’m not interested in games. If there’s interest, say so. If there’s hesitation, be honest. I don’t shrink myself to fit into a box of outdated expectations.
I am not dating with exclusivity in mind, but I am dating with intimacy in mind. I am not looking for casual, detached experiences—I am looking for connection, depth, and a shared understanding of what we both need.
I will never again combine finances with another human. I have built my life from the ground up, and financial stability is my own responsibility. The same should be true for the person I share space with.
I don’t need forever. I need presence. I need someone who shows up—fully, honestly, and for as long as we both choose to walk this path together.