Flirting is an energy, not a script.
Flirting is not “Omg, you’re so hot.”
It’s the slow sip of eye contact.
The lift of an eyebrow.
The brush of a shoulder in passing.
The pause after a joke… just long enough to let the spark land.
It’s giving just enough to make them wonder, “What’s going on there?”
Flirting is an invitation to watch their first episode with no pressure to binge the whole series.
When a friend tells me, “You have to watch this show.” I pause. Weighing their perspective, the pace, and how their interests align with mine. Seeing what the critics say, but I still say to myself… ”I’ll be the judge of that.”
So I give the first episode a try. No promises.
Dating feels like the same.
dating as an independent girly
I’ve built a life that feels full.
Career, purpose, friends, family, growth... all thriving.
But the desire for romance? Still very present.
There’s a pulse of longing that never fully leaves.
The scale leans so hard into work-work-work, I forget to let love breathe.
For those who like to run the show, who thrive on structure and active follow-through, dating can feel well chaotic. Messy. Like trying to organize a whirlpool.
And with limited time between meetings, friends, self-care, and let’s be honest emotional baggage. The idea of dating feels like inviting more to-do’s into an already packed calendar.
Waiting for texts back?
Being vulnerable again?
Getting rejected when I finally muster up the courage to reach out first?
Ugh.
Time-consuming.
Energy-draining.
And honestly? Sometimes not even worth the buzz.
But still, I crave it.
And when my friends say,
“When am I going to find my person?”
Or worse,
“I think I’m meant to be alone…”
I tell them:
Your bar isn't too high.
It’s right where it should be.
And I really mean that.
I’ve worn the rose-colored glasses.
I’ve mistaken red flags for cute little quirks.
And I’ve stayed too long.
Loved too hard.
Lost too much.
So trust me when I say…
Settling just to have someone isn’t it.
You don’t want to end up in a relationship where you’re shrinking to fit.
Where they’re only half-baked and expect you to hold the heat.
Where they still need time to grow.
Wrong relationships take.
They chip away at your radiance.
They leave you feeling less you than when you started.
I’ve been there.
And I learned exactly what I don’t want.
Necessary lessons, sure.
But damn, there’s gotta be a better way to learn.
So now?
I’m choosing to be alone, but not lonely.
I’m learning to love my inner world.
To become what I’m looking for.
why flirt → entryway to dating
I asked my friends a question that made us all pause
“Why do you want to be in a relationship?”
The answers were soft.
Vulnerable.
True.
To be loved.
To be held.
To be chosen.
To share life.
To be seen.
To feel supported.
To finally check off that box.
But here’s the thing.
I think dating feels broken because we see it through this rigid lens.
Either we are together, or we are nothing.
Either they are “the one,” or a waste of time.
We pedestal them without even knowing if they deserve that height.
Or we ignore the warning red flags, hoping they’ll turn green with enough training.
What if it didn’t have to be so extreme?
What if we just started… as friends?
be friends first
I want to like the person I’m with at 60.
Not just love them. Actually like them.
As a friend.
As a partner in heist level crime, to happily sit in silence, run errands, and crack dumb late night jokes.
And if I don’t even want to hang out with someone casually, why would I want to date them?
But friendship takes effort.
Someone has to make the first move.
Ask to hang out.
Show interest.
When I’m in friend energy, the stakes feel lower.
The field feels neutral.
It’s a place where anyone can initiate.
Where choice becomes mutual.
When it comes to flirting, calibrating my discernment through the lens of friendship feels like a good place to start.
flirting scared me for a long time
I’ll admit it.
I went to an all-girls school.
We only saw boys on weekends.
(Then rebelled and dated girls. Which is a whole other story.)
The guys back then were intimidated by me.
Not sure by what exactly. Maybe just my big curly hair.
But I always seemed to attract the ones I wasn’t into.
I didn’t know how to flirt with people I actually wanted.
I felt fake.
Shy.
Afraid of rejection.
So I asked my bold, brilliant friends this contradictory Q.
Why don’t you flirt first?
Here’s what came up:
Fear of judgment
Fear of being misunderstood
Fear of being exposed
Fear of rejection
Fear of getting hurt again
Fear of losing freedom
Fear of being too much
Overwhelmed by options
And you know what?
All of those fears are valid.
But they’re also signals.
Signals that we want safety.
Freedom.
Reciprocity.
Reassurance.
And when fear takes the wheel, desire gets stuck in the backseat.
What I’ve learned is…
The fear doesn’t fully disappear.
But I can let it ride shotgun.
Without letting it drive.
Because just on the other side of fear?
Is everything I actually want.
first, flirt with the world
Flirting is a presence.
A pulse. An energy. An attitude.
An appreciation of the abundant love in the world.
A vibe I cultivate within myself.
It starts with romanticising the smallest things.
Drinking chai on the balcony.
Walking in the rain with no umbrella.
Skipping through Trader Joe’s flower runs.
Texting someone back with a wink and no explanation.
The act of just appreciating being alive. Is romantic
The most magnetic flirters I’ve met…
Are the ones who aren’t looking for someone to complete them.
They’re just so full within themselves, their vibe just spills out.
They’re already whole.
And that wholeness?
Is hot.
I had to unlearn the fairytale that says I’ll be whole when I find “my person.”
That’s a myth.
A capitalist plot.
A distraction.
Truth is…
there isn’t just one person for me.
There are many.
And the most important one is… me.
playfully flirting
I’ve been around the block a few times.
Both on dating apps and at the bars.
I now flirt with boldness, audacity, and curiosity.
Which is why my friends ask me for advice.
I keep it sincere.
Not performative.
Not cocky.
No weird negs or games. (not anymore this is 100% toxic)
Truly just being curious about who they are as a person.
I see flirting as an invitation.
A nudge of curiosity.
A playful “Hey I’m feeling something, are you?”
If they’re into it, great.
If not? Their loss, not yours.
how I flirt over text
I Start With Curiosity. → Typical 1st DM
“I like your vibe. I want to know more.”
“Curious to hear more about ___. Matcha?”
“What’s something about you I’d never guess over text?”
I Tease, Not Mock. → 90% Spicy / 10% Cute
“Wow, confident and charming? You’re just showing off now.”
“You seem like trouble… the good kind.”
I Compliment With a Twist. → Blush Level Listening
“You have the kind of energy that makes people stay up talking all night.”
“Something about your brain makes me want to read your diary.”
I Let Subtle Innuendo Do the Work. → Analytical Intimacy
“Careful. I read between the lines really well.”
“If we keep texting like this, I might forget how to act normal around you.”
I Mirror their Energy. → Mysterious chameleon
If they’re playful, I match it.
If they’re slow and steady, I let the rhythm stretch.
I Don’t Rush to Reply. → Spacious Allowance
A little space builds intrigue.
Double texting is fine, just not triple.
stage 2 of flirting
I ask myself, do I want to be friends with them or more…
I move to stage two of my dating CRM which should definitely be a plugin platform. Moving either offline for a drink and a reliable communication platform.
Because let’s be honest this dating app texting is not sustainable. Therefore my goal is to move to a convenient messaging platform.
If I don’t want to be friends with them or more…
Then the best practice is to tell them I’m not interested.
Ghosting is a cop out.
There I said it. For me, and all yall.
Ghosting is an avoidant strategy to not face confrontation.
Let’s just all be honest about how we feel.
Certainly a practice.
But the more we say no the easier it gets.
When ghosted, I still always assume they have a busy life like me. So I don’t expect a response immediately. Because I wouldn’t like that pressure or judgement on me. If time passes too long, I don’t jump to conclusions. I just move on.
TLDR;
Flirting isn’t about being the loudest.
Or the most clever.
Or always making the first move.
Flirting is about being open to know more.
And a practice to being myself, without shrinking.
Hiding the unique best parts of myself.
I don’t let myself contort myself to their liking.
I am just me.
Because being intimidating is not your problem. It’s theirs.
Some people can’t hold all of you.
I stumbled up on this iconic analogy.
“You might not be everyone’s cup of tea, because you are ayahuasca.”
You might just be a mirror encouraging them to grow more.