I remember sitting cross-legged on my bed at 2 AM, staring at my phone screen with that familiar ache in my chest.
Three little dots appeared, disappeared, then reappeared again.
I’d been waiting for this response for hours after sending what felt like my heart wrapped in a text message: “I miss the way we used to talk.”
When his message finally came through, it happened to be the most basic text I have read in a while. “Yeah, things have been crazy busy”.
I found myself reading it over and over, searching for something more between those five empty words.
Something that matched the depth of what I was feeling. Something that told me I wasn’t alone in this quiet longing.
I didn’t tell anyone about that night.
Or about the many nights that followed, where I’d scroll through our conversations, analyzing every word, wondering what I’d done wrong or how I could have been less…what was the word he’d used once? “intense.”
There was a time I kept quiet about the things that broke me in dating, not because I didn’t want to speak, but because I didn’t know how to say it without sounding bitter, needy, or dramatic.
So I swallowed those stories and pretended they didn’t matter.
The “Something Has to Change” Moment
The turning point came during brunch with my closest friends.
As mimosas flowed, so did confessions.
One by one, these brilliant, beautiful women, the women I’d always seen as having it all figured out all shared their own versions of 2 AM heartaches.
Messages left on read. Mixed signals that drove them to doubt themselves. Words like “crazy” or “too emotional” thrown at them when all they’d done was ask for clarity.
I realized I wasn’t the only one trying to figure it all out. The only one replaying voice notes, re-reading messages, blaming herself for not seeing the signs sooner.
What struck me most wasn’t just the similarity of our experiences, it was how we’d all suffered in silence, afraid that voicing our pain would somehow validate the narrative that women are “too much” when it comes to matters of the heart.
That afternoon, I made a promise to myself: I would create the space I wished I’d had during those 2 AM moments.
A place where women could bring their dating stories, beautiful or bruising, and find understanding instead of judgment.
Where we could speak honestly about the confusion, the hope, the heartbreak, and everything in between.
The Diary is Open
This blog is my way of holding your hand without judgment. Whether you’re still in it, walking away from it, or healing after it—you belong here.
In Her Dating Diary, you’ll find:
Soft truths: And this is because sometimes we need to hear difficult things wrapped in compassion. I promise to never sugar-coat reality, but I’ll always deliver it with care.
Real stories: Both mine and those shared by women who’ve walked similar paths. There’s healing in knowing you’re not alone in what you’re experiencing.
Red flags, clarity, closure: Tools to help you navigate the often murky waters of modern dating. Because sometimes what we need most is someone who can help us see what we’ve been trying so hard not to.
Lessons from heartbreak: Because even our most painful experiences can become our most powerful teachers if we learn how to listen to them.
Conversations you don’t feel safe having anywhere else about the shame, the insecurity, the fear, and the hope that come with opening yourself to another person.
This isn’t a space for male-bashing or becoming cynical about love. It’s a sanctuary for honest reflection.
A place where we can acknowledge our wounds while still believing in the possibility of something beautiful.
A Gentle Close
I created Her Dating Diary because I believe that honoring our experiences, even the painful ones, is an act of self-love. Because I believe that when women share their stories, they reclaim their power.
You’re not alone. You’re not too much. You’re not dramatic for feeling deeply.
Welcome to Her Dating Diary. Your softness is safe here.
If this post touched you, share it with a friend who needs to feel seen too. Let’s grow a space where we date with clarity, not confusion, where we honor our hearts instead of hiding them. Where we remember that vulnerability isn’t weakness, it’s our greatest strength.
With love and understanding,
Yelzy.