Before Finding Love, You Have to do the Work

Okay. I’m going to give you a stern talking to. Ready? Good.

Ever since I announced that I’m a certified matchmaker, I’ve had people come out of the woodwork asking for help. Amazing, right? But the minute I mention a simple 15-minute questionnaire, they look at me like I have six heads.

What I’ve come to realize is this: people want love handed to them without doing any actual work. And honestly? That’s insane.

Yes, sure, you can find love without a long questionnaire or without asking me for help. Go for it. But if you’re looking for something deep, lasting, and aligned, you’ve got to do the inner work first.

It’s Not Just About a Questionnaire

Before I got into a relationship with the Comedian, I had personal hurdles to overcome—abandonment issues, sexual assault trauma, and other baggage.
News flash: we all have baggage—especially if you're dating in your late 20s, 30s, or 40s. Previous relationships, kids, family issues, life-altering events... all of it leaves an emotional mark.

But here's the thing I always say:

“It’s not what you’ve been through; it’s how you handle it that makes you who you are.”

Those past wounds don’t belong in a relationship. So I went to counseling. I read The Secret and The Power of Now. I started viewing life with a different lens. I chose balance and growth.

Welcome to the Self-Awareness Era

We live in an age where personal growth tools are at our fingertips. If you’ve had a string of failed relationships, guess what? The common denominator is you. It’s time to stop blaming your exes and take ownership.

As Einstein (or your favorite meme) once said:

“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”

So ask yourself:
– Do I constantly try to “fix” or “save” my partners?
– Am I attracted to emotionally unavailable people because that’s what love looked like growing up?

Unconscious attraction is real. I used to consistently date military guys. Why? My dad was in the Army. That’s the energy I was familiar with. CNN even reported it’s common to end up with someone who mirrors your parents.

Do the Work

Want love? Start with yourself.
– Take a personality test (try 16personalities.com)
– Discover your love language
– Read books like Attached or Things I Wish I’d Known Before We Got Married
– Dive into your zodiac sign for fun insights

These aren’t just BuzzFeed quizzes—they’re tools that help you understand your emotional wiring. When you know and love yourself, you're better equipped to be the kind of partner who attracts a healthy relationship.

Why eHarmony Asks So Many Questions

If you're serious about finding love, questionnaires aren’t the enemy—they’re your blueprint.

I once filled out the full eHarmony survey. Yes, it was long. Yes, it asked what I wanted in a partner. But that’s the point. You don’t want to waste time dating someone whose core values don’t align with yours—whether it’s about kids, religion, or deal-breakers like smoking.

As a matchmaker, I use intuition and information. Both are crucial. Without self-awareness and honesty, it’s impossible to build something that will last decades.

Final Thought

I genuinely want to see people fall in love. It lights me up to be part of that journey. But love that lasts requires more than chemistry—it requires clarity.

Do the work. Heal. Learn. Grow.
And when you’re ready, real love will meet you there.

📝 Interested in getting started?
Download my Dating Terms Worksheet to learn more about your perfect partner

And We Watched Football

We looked at the stars while he passed me my drink. This—this was how I always imagined life should feel. The beach chairs in his parents’ backyard gave us the perfect view of a sparkling night sky.

I met Pedro through a mutual friend at a club. From the start, our personalities just clicked. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what attracted me to him—it wasn’t his style or even his looks. There was just something about him that made me stay.

“Hey, the game will be on in about 30 minutes. You wanna jump in the pool for a quick swim before kickoff?” he asked, a little too confidently.

I nodded, smiling. We stripped down to our underwear and I jumped in first, only to realize—I forgot my drink.

“Hey, Pedro!” I called, “Can you grab our drinks?”

He turned around, grabbed our red plastic cups, and walked them over to the edge of the pool. But instead of handing them to me like a gentleman, he splashed me right in the face.

“Hey! My hair isn’t naturally curly!” I yelled through laughter.

He handed me my drink, and we slipped into a conversation about how stars were formed, wondering if they’d still exist at the end of the world. You know, nerdy stuff—the kind of talk that makes you feel like the only two people on Earth.

Maybe it was the high. Maybe the drinks. Maybe the chemistry. Whatever it was, I was having a blast.

Pedro eventually climbed out of the pool, grabbed our towels, and reminded me the game was about to start. It was our team—one we weirdly always watched together because they won every time we did. Superstitious? Maybe. But we didn’t mess with the ritual.

His parents were out of town visiting family in California, so there was no need for me to rush home. Still, I couldn’t help but notice: he was in his 30s and still living at home. I didn’t know when he’d last been in a real relationship. It was clear he wasn’t in any rush to settle down.

But in that moment, I didn’t care. I enjoyed him. There were no expectations, even though feelings were starting to bubble beneath the surface. I knew deep down that this wouldn’t last—but it didn’t make the memories any less special.

I plopped onto the long sectional while he settled into the recliner.

“Hey,” he said, looking over, “Come over here.”

I didn’t hesitate. I curled into his lap just as the game began. We clinked cups, I grabbed snacks from the table, and we rode the emotional rollercoaster that is football.

Honestly, I don’t know what’s more dramatic—watching Grey’s Anatomy kill off yet another character or watching this team blow a lead in the last five minutes. Either way, my heart can only take so much.

We laughed, shouted, cheered, and—yes—I gave up too early, and he teased me for it. But our team won. And for the two of us, it felt like magic.

Later, we made our way to his childhood bedroom. And what happened after that?

Well, let’s just say—I never kiss and tell.

Wedding Planning is for the Birds

Val&Gio (11)

If anyone really knows me, they know one thing for sure: I sincerely don’t like being the center of attention. I’d much rather mingle through the crowd, getting to know people one-on-one. Honestly, I turn beet red every time someone sings “Happy Birthday” to me.

So what does that say about my experience becoming a bride?
Let’s just say… it’s been a ride.

Every time someone asks, “So how’s wedding planning going?” I feel a wave of anxiety. Don’t get me wrong—I’m a hustler. I work in operations for a living! I get stuff done. And yes, almost everything is already planned: venue booked, dress picked, details organized. All that’s left is the wedding cake, bridesmaids’ dresses, and a few tiny odds and ends.

But what’s been keeping me up at night isn’t the timeline—it’s the budget.

I’ve always been good at saving, but this kind of expense? It’s on another level. Our parents have helped out tremendously (thank you, thank you), but let’s be real: weddings are expensive. I didn’t realize flowers cost that much until I saved $100 by removing one rose from each centerpiece. One. Single. Rose. INSANE.

If I had all the money in the world, I’d cover the whole room in florals, hire flamenco dancers, and throw in a photo booth with props for days. But we’re just two middle-class Americans trying to make magic happen on a not-so-magical budget. And honestly? That’s okay.

downtown orlando, lake eola, engagement, photos

People keep telling me, “Just enjoy the process!” And I try. I really do. I love planning parties. I love organizing. But I also like knowing I can afford what I’m putting together. I think some people stress over the details because they want to please everyone. They want everything to be perfect. But I’ve learned (sometimes the hard way) that nothing ever goes exactly as planned. And that's not the point anyway.

Luckily, we've been blessed by generous friends and family doing us favors. That has meant everything. Now, my next task is building the wedding day timeline. Who knew every single detail needed to be mapped out? (Thanks, bridezillas. You've raised the bar for those of us just trying to keep it cool.)

On a brighter note—we got some of our engagement photos back! They turned out so sweet. Go ahead, take a peek and smile with us.

The Old Role Switcheroo

I’ve noticed something in my relationship with my parents—it feels like I stepped into the parental role way too early in life. Recently, I read an article in the Chicago Tribune that confirmed this isn’t uncommon. More and more kids are becoming the “grown-ups” in their homes before they even hit adulthood. And honestly? It feels a little unfair.

I remember my own teenage years being mostly secluded. Sure, I had moments of escape, like going to band camp. But when I came home, I was expected to take care of my younger sister. It always felt like my mom either didn’t notice her misbehavior or just let her do what she wanted. And my dad? He stopped being a part of our lives when I was 14. He only resurfaced about three years ago.

By 16, I was the one keeping an eye on my sister, trying to make sure she wasn’t sneaking around with the neighbor or coming home with a hickey that my mom would notice. I felt like I had to be responsible for her, and it left me longing for something deeper with my mom—a connection I never really got.

When I finally left for college, it felt like I was doing something just for me—a bold step toward independence. But I carried a heavy guilt. After I left, things seemed to fall apart for my sister. She dropped out of high school, moved in with her boyfriend at 16, and I constantly wondered: What if I hadn’t left?

After many years of therapy—and lots of sessions with the Comedian, my in-house therapist—I’ve come to realize something important: I was too young to be anyone’s savior. I wasn’t responsible for my sister’s choices. But that early sense of responsibility shaped me. It showed up in my relationships too. I kept dating people I thought I could “fix.” (If I had a dollar for every time...)

I mean, I once picked up an ex-boyfriend from a bus stop just so we could hang out—because he “couldn’t make it all the way.” That was the norm for me. Until I met the Comedian. He was the first person who took care of me, and in return, I got to take care of him. That mutual support was a whole new experience.

The Chicago Tribune article described kids just like me:

“A straight-A student comes home and starts supper, knowing she’ll spend the evening listening to her dad talk about his troubled personal life.”

“A young beauty-pageant contestant beams at her mom, who is proud to call her daughter her best friend.”

I know people who lived this. And even as adults, it feels like our parents pull us back into those same roles—the ones where we had to grow up too fast.

That instinct to take care of everyone? It still lingers. I still catch myself wanting to fix everything for my family. But for my own well-being and sanity, I’ve learned something critical:

It’s okay to step back.

Let them figure it out sometimes. Because healing your own inner child often means releasing the need to parent everyone else.

How Much Does Social Media Influence Little Girls?

by Ste Elmore

The other night, the Comedian and I found ourselves in a spirited debate about what it might be like to raise girls in today’s world—especially with social media playing such a massive role. Honestly, I didn’t know how to argue his point. I’m not a parent, and I’m no expert in child psychology. I only know my own story—how I was raised and how I turned out. And the truth is, the idea of raising a child is a little terrifying. You pour your values into this tiny human and hope they grow into someone kind, confident, and grounded. But in a world flooded with likes, filters, and celebrity influence… is that enough? Or are we just being naive?

This all started with Nicki Minaj’s recent album cover—you know the one. Bent over, bare bottom on full display. She’s undeniably talented, and like it or not, she’s a role model for many young girls. But what message does that send? Is it empowering… or oversexualized? And where do we draw the line?

Not long ago, Kim Kardashian posted an Instagram photo in a barely-there swimsuit that stirred up the same questions. Growing up, I had influences like Madonna and Cyndi Lauper—but it was different. I was sheltered. My parents didn’t talk to me about sex. My mom, a traditional Catholic woman, believed in modesty. I vividly remember my college rebellion stage—lots of cleavage, short skirts, the works. I figured if I was “blessed,” I might as well flaunt it. My mom once joked that I had a closet I wore around her… and a completely different one I didn’t. (She wasn’t wrong.)

But I’ve evolved. These days, my style reflects where I am in life—not 21, not seeking attention. Just me.

After the debate, I posted a question on Facebook asking others how they felt about raising girls today. The responses varied, but many agreed—it’s harder now. Kids have access to everything. Friends with cell phones at seven. YouTube, TikTok, and Instagram influencers just a click away. One person brought up a Louis C.K. bit, where his 9-year-old daughter asks for a cell phone. He says no. She protests: "But my friend has one." He still says no. That’s parenting.

But still, we wonder: Can a parent’s influence outweigh what kids see online?
Can we raise strong, confident girls who know their worth doesn’t depend on likes or showing skin?

We hope so.

The truth is, there’s no formula. We don’t know how our children will turn out. We just hope they’re healthy, happy, and good humans. We hope they live full, beautiful lives like we did—or maybe even better.

The Cycle

“I will never be the woman with the perfect hair, who can wear white and not spill on it.”
— Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City

Growth is inevitable—or at least, it should be. I’ve never been the kind of person who’s okay with staying stagnant. I want to keep learning—about the world, about life, about myself.

I know I’m not perfect. None of us are. We’re all walking definitions of the choices we’ve made—or the ones we never realized we were making. Some people don’t even know how they ended up where they are.

I remember back in college, my roommate—who was also a friend at the time—was doing a research study on Puerto Ricans and their role in society. Her focus was on Chicago, and specifically the "cycle of poverty." The idea was that Puerto Ricans, as U.S. citizens eligible for government benefits like welfare, were often trapped in low-income neighborhoods, surviving but not necessarily striving. That environment, passed from generation to generation, became their normal. And so, the cycle continued.

Sure, there are always exceptions—but that’s the thing. They’re exceptions, not the rule.

That concept stuck with me. It explained a lot about why people operate the way they do: sometimes, they just haven’t been shown another way.

I’ve always been a student of people. I watch behaviors. I analyze reactions. I’m curious about why people say the things they say and do the things they do. That curiosity served me in dating… until I actually liked someone and got frustrated when they didn’t see the potential I saw. The potential for something great.

Thankfully, God had a plan. And in walked the Comedian. I am forever grateful for that.

I didn’t learn everything I needed from my parents. They gave me a foundation—how to be kind, how to care about people’s feelings—but they didn’t teach me about money, love, or how to handle sketchy people. My mom was never into makeup or fashion. She’s a peaceful, reserved woman. I, on the other hand, came out like a thunderbolt—loud, animated, ready to light up the next social gathering.

She has silky straight hair. I was born with wild, curly locks. People still call me Shakira. I had to teach myself everything—from how to blow dry my hair (shout out to YouTube) to how to apply makeup (thanks, eyeshadow palette instructions). I figured it out because I wanted to. I wanted to express a version of myself that felt fun, confident, me.

I love fashion. I love shoes. And my mom still can’t figure out why I own so many.

But that’s the point. You get to choose who you become.

Like Carrie Bradshaw said, I know I’ll never be the girl with perfect hair who can keep her white outfit clean through a meal. For whatever reason, I always manage to spill on myself. I’m also the girl who walks into poles, trips in public, and laughs through the embarrassment. And I accept that.

Whatever I want to change, I’ll change. But I do it on my terms.

I know I’ll never be a statistic—unless we’re talking about how many pairs of heels I own (guilty as charged).

So here’s the truth:
Love yourself as you are. You are unique. If you don’t like the situation you’re in, change it. You are the designer of your life. Don’t let excuses become roadblocks.

Because the truth is—wherever you are right now, you got there.
And that means you can get somewhere else, too.

Who do I want to be?

A couple of nights ago, I was talking with the Comedian about my last blog post. We ended up deep in conversation about the human condition and our parents—how much of who we are is shaped by them, and how much we get to decide for ourselves.

Growing up, I used to compare my parents to my friends’ parents and wish things had been different. My dad had left, and my mom, while present, wasn’t emotionally available. I spent most of my teens and early twenties just trying to figure life out. I didn’t have much guidance—just this deep desire to leave home and go to college, which I did. I was the cliché lost college girl, trying to piece life together one experience at a time (or letting my friends do it for me).

It wasn’t easy finding my identity. I don’t think it is for anyone, really, but it felt especially hard without a strong example to look up to. Still, I’ve come to realize—everyone has a story. Some people grew up with abusive parents. Others had dads who drank too much or moms who never gave affection. We either repeat those patterns or we break them. That’s where our power lies.

Funny enough, I started this blog a few days ago, and on the way back from Miami this past weekend, the Comedian and I were listening to Joel Osteen—his sermon was about this exact idea. Serendipity at its finest.

At some point, you have to stop blaming your parents or your past and ask: Who do I want to be? You get to choose. Life is full of choices—what time we wake up, what we wear, how we treat people, and yes, even how we respond when life doesn’t go our way. I read a quote once that stuck with me:

“How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours.” – Wayne Dyer

Joel said something similar—that we are the ones who decide whether to break generational habits and whether or not we pass them on to our children. It’s not easy, but once you consistently choose positivity and stay mindful of your reactions, something incredible happens: life starts to feel lighter. People treat you differently. The energy around you shifts.

You don’t have to carry your mother’s anxiety or your father’s anger. You get to rewrite the script. That’s the beauty of free will. That’s the power of the mind. It’s yours—so choose wisely.