My first attempt at dating since....

I haven’t been on a date in over two years. I also haven’t really met anyone new—at least not outside of being “the guy who has/had cancer.” For a long time, that has felt like my entire introduction.

These days, most people my age meet online. I have thoughts about that (for another time), but here we are.

Someone once asked me if I’d have trouble telling a date about my situation. At the time, I said no, of course not. I’m comfortable talking about it.

Now that I’m actually here, trying to meet new people again, I realize it’s more complicated than I expected.

Not because I’m afraid to share my story but because I worry it’ll feel like too much. Too much baggage. Too much going on. And honestly, before all of this, I probably would’ve thought the same.

But standing on the other side of it now, my perspective has changed. There’s something attractive about someone who has faced real hardship and kept going. It shows strength. Resilience. Depth. Perspective. (I know I’m biased, but still.)

I’m not writing this to sell myself, truly.
I’m writing this for anyone in a similar position—whether that’s loss, addiction, illness, mental health, insecurity, or something invisible the world doesn’t see.

Tell them.

Do it when you’re ready of course, and when it feels like the right person should know. I know it’s not as easy as I’m making it sound, but the relief of getting it off your chest can be greater than you expect. It also allows someone to truly understand you, not just who you are, but why.

If they see it as a problem, that’s okay. They weren’t meant for you and you don’t need to resent them for that.

And if they accept it, if they meet you with openness and care, that might be the clearest sign you could ask for.

This doesn’t just apply to romantic relationships, it applies to every relationship in your life. I’m not saying you need to lay everything out on the first night, but fear shouldn’t be the reason you hold parts of yourself back. You are who you are, and many of the things that shape you are completely out of your control. Struggle and tragedy don’t define you — they refine you, and over time, they make you a stronger, more grounded person.