A few years ago, I dated a man I really liked.
Conversation flowed from the start. We had depth and we laughed. We moved easily between trashy pop culture references (my fave) and high-brow literary tastes (my foundation).
He did a thing I didn’t know I wanted: before each date ended, the next one was collaboratively planned and on the calendar.
And yet, between dates, there was nothing.
N O T H I N G.
He was sexy. Smart. A wordsmith. And funny. I'd dated each of those qualities before, just never all packaged together.
Oh, and I wanted to see him naked, which felt like the universe saying, "Bashert. Enjoy."
Because of all this, it took me a minute to admit something was off. He was consistent, just not in the way I needed.
And that distinction matters.
With that man, let’s call him 📚, everything looked promising from the outside. Yet over time, the reality became impossible to ignore. The dates were good. I was carrying the connection the rest of the time.
So it ended.
No big conversation. Just a clear decision to stop trying to build something from pieces that couldn't hold together.
Not long after, my then eighteen year old Kidult asked, “Why aren’t you seeing him anymore? You two really had fun together.”
And because parenting is really just consistency in another form, I did not hesitate in my response.
I’m fifty four, and I’ve learned this the long way. I don’t try to make bread from breadcrumbs. And I’m not starting now.
That sentence didn’t come from theory. It came from lived experience.
This isn’t only about dating. Over time, I’ve noticed this dynamic everywhere.
In relationships, certainly. But also in friendships, careers, health, and business.
We become attached to moments while ignoring patterns.
This shows up more than we care to admit.
Strong starts.
Real chemistry.
Long silences.
And the temptation to turn every stall into a referendum on who we are.
This is why I wrote Dating Later.
It’s part of my larger body of work grounded in Everyday Consistency as a way of paying attention to what actually holds in real life.
Whether we’re talking about work, relationships, health, or personal growth, the pattern is usually the point.
And I’ve learned not to mistake breadcrumbs for bread.
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