Back in the Game: My First Date in Over Five Years

It’s been over five years since I dipped even a toe into the dating world. Five years of healing, growing, and learning to love myself. Five years of building emotional walls high enough to keep pain out, but—if I’m being honest—probably high enough to keep love out too.

Dating again wasn’t just about throwing on a nice outfit or swiping through profiles. It took work. Real, deep, internal work. The kind that forces you to sit with your fears, your doubts, your hopes, and all the baggage you swore you’d unpack eventually. It was about more than physical readiness—it was about being mentally and emotionally ready to take a risk again. To say, “Here I am. This is me.” And to hope someone might see you and say, “I want to know more.”

So, here we go—my first date in forever.

We met on Grindr. Yep, I know. Grindr. Not exactly the place you expect to find long-lasting love, and I’m not naive to that fact. But I was curious. I was hopeful. I wanted to give it a try, even if I felt a little foolish for doing so. We messaged for two weeks—talked about life, our goals, our favorite music. It was light, but there was something under the surface that felt real.

We finally made plans to meet—just coffee, nothing major. A small shop in the next town over. And it was… nice. Easy. Comfortable. We laughed, we talked, we listened. He walked me out afterward, hugged me, kissed me, and I felt that tiny flicker of possibility light up inside me. That thing we all chase. Connection.

Afterward, we texted. He even asked me on a second date. I let my guard down just a little more.

And then—nothing.

Blocked. Gone. No explanation. No closure. Just the gut-punch of being ghosted by someone you thought saw you.

Heartbroken doesn’t begin to describe it. I felt foolish, embarrassed, and angry. But mostly—I felt sad. Not just because of him, but because this is the world we live in. A world where vulnerability is rarely met with the tenderness it deserves.

Being trans already adds layers of complexity to dating. There’s always that looming question: “Will they accept me? Truly?” And when someone makes you feel seen—even for a moment—it hits harder when they disappear.

I hate dating for this reason. I hate how much effort it takes just to be let down. I hate how much it stings when someone treats you like you're disposable. And I hate how it makes you question your worth, even when you’ve worked so damn hard to believe in it again.

But here’s what I know:

That date didn’t define me. That person’s disappearance doesn’t reflect my value. And the pain I felt? It only proves how ready I am to love—and to be loved—for real.

So, yeah, dating again sucks. But I’m proud of myself for trying. For being brave. For showing up. That’s what counts.

And when the right person comes along, I won’t have to try to fit into their life. I’ll just belong.

-Love Always Elle