It’s Not Ghosting—It’s an Irish Goodbye
A Travel‑Girl Guide to Leaving Situations and Places Quietly and Gracefully
The Irish have introduced us to so many great things — whiskey that warms your chest, pubs that feel like home even if you’ve never been, river dancing that makes your jaw drop, and of course… the Irish Goodbye.
And out of all their cultural contributions, the Irish Goodbye might be one of my personal favorites — especially in the world of dating. Because while ghosting feels cold and careless, an Irish Goodbye is something else entirely. It’s understanding when it’s time to go without asking for permission. And instead of sending a paragraph, starting a fight, or waiting for someone to magically become emotionally literate, you simply… leave. It’s intentional. It’s graceful.
And maybe I understand it so well because I’m a traveler at heart. Travel teaches you to read a room, a moment, a vibe. It teaches you when to linger, when to explore, and when to catch the next train before it leaves without you. It teaches you that not every stop is meant to be a long stay — and that leaving early doesn’t make you unkind, it makes you intuitive.
And somewhere between my travels and my dating life, I realized something important: This is exactly the energy I need in modern romance.
Because let’s be honest — dating today is full of disappearing acts. People vanish mid‑conversation, mid‑connection, mid‑“I really like you.” We call it ghosting, and it stings. But an Irish Goodbye? That’s different. That’s choosing peace over chaos, clarity over confusion, and self‑respect over someone else’s mixed signals.
It’s not ghosting — it’s knowing when it’s time to go.
✨ Ghosting vs. The Irish Goodbye — There Is a Difference
Ghosting is disappearing without intention. An Irish goodbye is leaving with clarity.
Ghosting is messy. An Irish goodbye is clean.
Ghosting is “I don’t care.” An Irish goodbye is “I care about myself more.”
And if you’ve ever been in an Irish pub, you know exactly what I mean. People don’t announce their exit. They don’t gather the room. They don’t perform. They simply slip out when they’ve had their fill — of the night, the noise, or the nonsense.
Tell me that isn’t the perfect metaphor for dating.
✈️ Travel Has Taught Me When to Stay — and When to Go
Travel has this quiet way of teaching you things you didn’t realize you needed to learn. In Ireland, it’s the Wild Atlantic Way — winding, unpredictable, breathtaking — that teaches you to embrace detours. It’s standing at the edge of the Cliffs of Moher, wind whipping your hair, realizing how small a single moment can be in the grand scheme of things. And sometimes it’s wandering through Dublin’s cobblestone streets, where every turn feels charming but also a little uncertain, that reminds you to watch your step and trust your pace.
Travel gives you signs. Ireland just makes them impossible to ignore.
It sharpens your intuition. It makes you pay attention. It shows you that timing, energy, and environment matter more than we admit.
When you land somewhere new, you can feel it almost instantly — that subtle internal yes or no. Sometimes a place wraps around you like a warm hug. Sometimes it feels like a pair of shoes you want to love but can’t quite break in. And sometimes, you know before you even unpack that this isn’t where you’re meant to be.
Dating is no different.
Travel taught me that you don’t force a connection with a city — you either feel it or you don’t. You don’t guilt‑trip yourself into loving a destination that doesn’t fit your vibe and energy. You don’t stay in a hotel that feels off just because you already checked in. You don’t keep wandering streets that don’t feel safe or inspiring.
You move on. Gracefully. Quietly. Without apologizing for trusting your instincts.
And that’s the beauty of the Irish Goodbye — it mirrors the traveler’s mindset. You don’t need a dramatic exit to validate your decision. You don’t need to justify why you’re leaving. You don’t need to explain the vibe shift. You simply know when it’s time to catch the next train, the next flight, the next chapter.
Because the truth is, not every destination is meant to be a forever place. Some are meant to be a lesson. Some are meant to be a layover. Some are meant to show you what you don’t want. And some are meant to prepare you for the place that finally feels like home.
Travel taught me that leaving isn’t failure — it’s direction. It’s clarity. It’s choosing alignment over obligation.
And in dating, that’s not ghosting. That’s an Irish Goodbye.
☘️ Ireland Inspired This Entire Mindset
Ireland has a way of giving you a fresh perspective on life — in the best possible way. It’s a place that feels both familiar and magical, like you’ve been there before even when you haven’t. The people are warm, the conversations are easy, the scenery is breathtaking, and the nights stretch longer than you planned because somehow you’re always having “just one more.”
But here’s the thing no one tells you until you experience it yourself: Ireland is also a masterclass in knowing when to slip out quietly.
Walk into any pub in Dublin, Galway, or Cork and you’ll see it. People come and go like tides — no drama, no announcements, no performative goodbyes. One minute they’re beside you, laughing over a pint, and the next they’ve disappeared into the night air without a trace.
Not because they’re rude. Not because they’re avoiding you. But because they trust the moment enough to leave it exactly as it is.
And honestly? That’s the energy I want in my dating life.
Ireland taught me that not every exit needs a speech. Not every ending needs a breakdown. Not every connection needs a post‑mortem. Sometimes the most respectful thing you can do — for yourself and for the other person — is to leave quietly when the moment has run its course.
Traveling through Ireland made me realize how beautiful that can be. How freeing. How… grown.
Because when you’re on the road, you learn to honor timing. You learn to honor your intuition. You learn that staying too long in the wrong place can dim the magic of the right one.
And that’s when it clicked for me: It’s not ghosting — it’s an Irish Goodbye. A gentle exit. A peaceful boundary. A quiet promise to yourself that you’re allowed to move on without guilt.
Ireland didn’t just give me stunning photos and endless memories. It gave me a philosophy.
💅 Why Leaving Quietly Isn’t Heartless — It’s Honest
There’s this idea that if you don’t give someone a long explanation, a perfectly worded goodbye, or a full emotional debrief, you’re being cold. But travel taught me something different: sometimes the most honest thing you can do is leave without turning it into a performance.
Think about it — when you’re on the road, you don’t stay in a hotel that feels unsafe just because you already checked in. You don’t force yourself to love a city that doesn’t feel right just because it looked good online. You don’t keep wandering a neighborhood that gives you the wrong kind of butterflies.
You trust your instincts. You pivot. You move on. And no one calls you heartless for that.
So why is dating any different?
Here’s the truth: If someone wanted you to stay, they would give you a reason to.
Effort. Consistency. Presence. Intention.
If those things aren’t there, you’re not ghosting — you’re simply choosing not to linger in a place that doesn’t feel like home. You’re walking away before you start to negotiate your worth.
You’re doing what travelers do best: Moving on to the next adventure with grace, curiosity, and zero regrets.
🌍 The Irish Goodbye Is the Rebrand Ghosting Needed
Ghosting has such a bad reputation — and honestly, deservedly so. It’s messy. It’s abrupt. It feels like someone slammed a door in your face and then evaporated into thin air. But the Irish Goodbye? That’s different. That’s a quiet exit with centuries of cultural charm behind it. It’s slipping out of a pub in Dublin without the theatrics, without the drawn‑out goodbyes, without the emotional labor of explaining something that’s already over.
It’s not disappearing. It’s disengaging with dignity.
And maybe that’s exactly what modern dating needs — a rebrand. A softer, more intentional version of leaving. A way to say “this isn’t for me” without turning it into a dramatic monologue or a three‑day text exchange that ends exactly where it started.
Because here’s the truth: Travelers know when it’s time to move on.
We know when a city has given us everything it’s going to give. We know when a detour becomes a dead end. We know when the vibe shifts from adventure to obligation. We know when staying longer won’t make the experience better — it’ll just make it heavier. You just slip out quietly, gracefully, and with the same confidence you carry through every airport terminal.
And that’s the beauty of the Irish Goodbye. It’s not about avoiding someone. It’s about honoring yourself.
Because maybe we’re not disappearing. Maybe we’re just done explaining ourselves to people who never listened in the first place.
Maybe we’re not cold. Maybe we’re just choosing peace.
Maybe we’re not afraid of confrontation. Maybe we’re just tired of conversations that go nowhere.
And maybe — just maybe — the Irish had it right all along.
Slip out quietly. Protect your energy.
Leave the party (or the situationship) without making a scene. And trust that the right people will notice your absence — and the wrong ones never deserved your presence.
I Hope Someday Someone Looks at Me the Way I Look at a Travel Brochure
I always say I hope someday a man looks at me the way I look at a travel brochure — and if you know me, you know that’s saying a lot. Because when I look at a travel brochure, my whole demeanor lights up. My eyes soften, my shoulders relax, and my whole body leans in like I’m falling in love with possibility itself.
And maybe that’s because I don’t just read travel brochures. I create them for a living.
I can spend my days choosing the perfect photos, writing the words that make people dream, and curating the kind of moments that make someone whisper, “I need to be there.” I know what it looks like when something is crafted with passion and intention — when every detail is chosen to spark excitement, curiosity, and hope. I aim to create a sense of FOMO—you can’t live without experiencing something so beautiful and powerful.
Somewhere along the way, I realized: That’s the same energy and reaction I want in love.
✈️ Travel Has Become the Great Love Story of My Life
Travel has never disappointed me the way dating has recently. Travel shows up. Travel makes plans. Travel gives me butterflies and excitement before I even arrive.
When I’m creating a travel brochure, I’m imagining the best version of a place — the golden hour glow, the hidden corners, the exquisite sunsets, the magic that doesn’t always show up on the first page. I give destinations the kind of attention and admiration that most people reserve for relationships. I study them. I celebrate them. I’m in awe of their beauty before I ever step foot there.
And honestly? I deserve someone who sees me with that same wonder.
🌍 What a Travel Brochure Taught Me About Love
A travel brochure is full of intention. It’s curated. It’s thoughtful. It’s an invitation.
And that’s what I want from a partner — someone who looks at me with curiosity, excitement, and a genuine desire to explore who I am.
Not someone who takes 48 hours to respond. Not someone who can’t plan a date but expects me to plan my entire emotional availability around them. Not someone who gives me the bare minimum and calls it effort.
If I can create a brochure that makes strangers want to cross oceans, then surely someone out there can bring that same energy to loving me.
💅 I Want to Be Someone’s Dream Destination
I want to be someone’s dream destination — not a layover, not a quick weekender, not a “maybe someday.” I want to be the place someone circles in their mind the way I circle a potential next vacation spot in my brochure: with excitement, curiosity, and the quiet certainty that something unforgettable is waiting there.
I want someone who sees me the way I see a new city or a beautiful new resort — full of potential, full of stories, full of reasons to stay a little longer. When I arrive somewhere new, I don’t rush through it. I take my time. I wander. I pay attention. I let myself fall in love with the details most people overlook. That’s the kind of energy I want coming my way.
Someone who studies the details — the way my laugh sounds when I’m genuinely happy, the way my eyes light up when I talk about a place I’m passionate about, the way I soften when I feel safe. Someone who’s excited to discover the hidden gems — the quirks, the layers, the parts of me that don’t show up on the first page. Someone who doesn’t rush the experience but also doesn’t take it for granted — who understands that the best things unfold slowly, intentionally, and with presence.
And most of all, someone who chooses me with intention — the way I choose every photo, every headline, every word in the brochures I create. I craft. I curate. I imagine the experience someone will have when they step into that world I’ve built. I want someone who sees me with that same care, that same thoughtfulness, that same desire to explore what’s possible.
🧳 Until Then, I’ll Keep Loving the World
Until someone looks at me with that same spark, I’ll keep doing what I do best: Falling in love with the world.
One brochure. One boarding pass. One breathtaking moment at a time.
Because if travel is the great love story of my life, I’m not complaining. It’s shown me beauty, adventure, and versions of myself I never would’ve met otherwise.
And maybe — just maybe — the right person will find me the same way I find my favorite destinations: By being in the right place at the right time.
If this story made you smile, nod, or whisper “same,” then you’re exactly who I write for. Travel has a way of showing us the love, excitement, and intention we wish people would give us — and I’m here to celebrate every version of that journey.
If you’re ready for more travel stories, destination guides, and soft‑savage reflections on life, love, and boarding passes, make sure you subscribe so you never miss a new post. Your next adventure — and maybe your next revelation — is waiting.
✨ Is Travel Like Finding Your Soulmate? It’s All About Being at the Right Place at the Right Time
I was rewatching an old episode of Sex and the City when Carrie asked if timing is everything when it comes to finding a soulmate. Is every second of our lives controlled by fate? Or is life just a series of random occurrences?
Naturally, this sent me into a spiral — because if timing matters in love, does it also matter when it comes to travel? If I hadn’t postponed a trip… If my flight hadn’t been delayed two hours… If I’d chosen a different weekend entirely…
Would the trip have been different? Would my life be different? Would I be different?
Then I got to thinking — which is always dangerous — and I landed on a conclusion that feels both unhinged and deeply poetic: Travel might be the closest thing we have to finding a soulmate.
Not in the “I fell in love with a man named Luca on a Vespa in Rome” way (although if that happens, please contact me immediately). I mean in the way that travel, like soulmates, shows up when you need it, changes you when you’re ready, and makes absolutely no sense until suddenly it does.
Some people believe soulmates are written in the stars. I believe they might be written in your passport.
Let’s unpack this.
🌍 Travel Finds You When You Need It Most
You know how people say you meet “the one” when you’re not looking? Travel works the same way.
Some of my best trips weren’t planned. They were spontaneous, chaotic, and full of moments that felt like the universe nudging me forward.
It’s like the universe said, “Sweetie, you’re spiraling. Here’s a cheap flight to London. Go reset.”
So, I did.
Travel arrives the same way a soulmate does — unexpectedly, and if you’re lucky, right on time.
✈️ Timing Is Everything (In Love and in Layovers)
You can visit the same city twice and have two completely different experiences. You can meet the same person twice and feel something entirely new.
Just like finding your soulmate, travel is all about timing:
who you are when you arrive
what you’re carrying emotionally
what you’re ready to let go of
what you’re open to discovering
The right place at the wrong time feels off.
I once went to a tiny, charming island in Exuma, Bahamas — it was a complete disaster. Everything possible went wrong and ended with a full-blown melt down.
I swore I’d never go back.
But a couple years later, the opportunity came again and I felt I owed it to myself to redo my experience. And this time, everything aligned. It was a perfect trip from a flight upgrade, to multiple celebrity sightings, checked off a bucket list item going to see the swimming pigs, and so much more.
Same place. Different timing. Completely different experience.
The right place at the right time feels like magic.
💫 You Have to Be Open to the Unexpected
Some of the best travel moments happen when you ditch the plan or ditch the expectations. Some of the best relationships happen when you ditch the checklist.
I’ve had trips where:
I showed up to a city I knew nothing about and ended up in a 5-star cliffside resort in a city built out of fairy chimneys and caves
a wrong turn led to the best meal of my life
a missed tour led to everlasting memories involving the best jazz music you’ll ever hear with new friends
a spontaneous “why not” led to me leading an 8-hour tour in Ireland with zero experience
a random conversation shifted my entire perspective
Travel rewards openness. So do soulmates.
You can’t script the magic — you just have to show up for it.
💛 Both Teach You Who You Really Are
Travel shows you who you are when no one knows you. Soulmates show you who you are when someone finally sees you.
Both experiences:
stretch you — because growth never happens in your comfort zone
challenge you — because you can’t evolve without friction
soften you — because vulnerability is a strength, not a weakness
reveal you — because the real you shows up when you’re unguarded
Travel teaches you who you are when you’re alone. Soulmates teach you who you are when you’re loved.
And somewhere in the overlap — in the courage, the curiosity, the softness, the honesty — you meet the truest version of yourself.
🌙 Some Places (and People) Feel Like Fate
There are cities that feel familiar the moment you land. There are people who feel familiar the moment you meet.
You don’t know why. You don’t question it. You just feel it.
I went to Spain, and it instantly felt like home. I don’t speak much Spanish, but I felt like I could move there and start a life for myself. This place made me feel alive like my first great love.
Maybe it’s déjà vu. Maybe it’s intuition. Maybe it’s the universe winking at you.
Some places imprint on you the same way certain people do — quietly, deeply, permanently.
🌺 Not Every Place Is “The One” — And That’s Okay
Just like dating, not every destination is life‑changing.
Some trips are fun but forgettable. Some are chaotic but educational. Some are healing. Some are transitional. Some you don’t appreciate until they’re gone.
But every single one teaches you something:
what you want
what you don’t
what you’re ready for
what you’re done tolerating
Travel is basically the dating app of self‑discovery — except the views are better and no one says “sorry, I’m bad at texting.”
🌅 When It’s Right, You Just Know
There are places where everything clicks:
the energy
the people
the food
the version of yourself that shows up there
You feel grounded and alive at the same time. You feel like you belong without trying. You feel like you could move there tomorrow and start a new life.
That’s Spain for me.
That’s how soulmates feel too — effortless, aligned, and strangely inevitable.
✨ Maybe the Real Soulmate Is the Journey
Here’s the plot twist:
Maybe the soulmate isn’t a person or a place. Maybe it’s the version of yourself you meet along the way.
Travel becomes the love story. You become the main character. And the world becomes the partner that keeps showing up for you.
Right Place. Right Time. Right You.
I Sat on More Planes Than Men Last Year — And Honestly, Thank God
Some people measure their year or success in relationships, milestones, or personal growth. I like to measure mine in boarding passes.
Last year, I sat on more planes than men — and before you feel bad for me or judge me on this, don’t. If I had said this 5 years ago when I thought I had life figured out, I most definitely would not be admitting this publicly out of shame or embarrassment. In reality, it was the best accidental life choice I’ve ever made. I wasn’t lonely. I wasn’t heartbroken. I wasn’t “focusing on myself” in that sad, post‑breakup way. I was thriving. I was glowing. I was collecting passport stamps last year like they were Labubus. I was genuinely the happiest I had been in a while. Not a single relationship yet living the dream.
Because while men were sending mixed signals, airplanes were sending me confirmation emails. While men were inconsistent, flights were on time (well… some of them). And while men were asking “wyd,” airports were asking, “wyltu” (would you like to upgrade). While men found a way to ruin my day before 9am, I chose to board flights off to my next adventure at 9am instead. It’s ironic that the excitement I get when the staff crew shows up for the flight is nearly the same level of excitement I get when a situationship actually shows up to something.
I got tired of getting excited for the bare minimum when there is a world of excitement to explore out there. I don’t remember the last time a man made me light up with excitement the way the Eiffel Tower did when I saw it light up at night. Now I’m supposed to get excited when a man confirms plans on a Saturday?
Travel Gave Me What Dating Used To But Doesn’t Anymore
Dating last year felt like a series of plot twists written by a bored intern or a group project where I did all the work but still failed. I didn’t want to be bothered by the drama, inconsistency and the inability to make plans. Travel, on the other hand, gave me:
clarity
excitement
adventure
peace
and an excuse to buy cute outfits (spoiler: it used to be for men!)
Men gave me… well, mostly anxiety and a reason to drink. 🍷
Every time a situationship fizzled, I booked a flight. Every time someone said “I’m not ready for something serious,” I said “Perfect, because I’m not ready to stay in this city.” If I ever felt stuck, I got myself unstuck real quickly at 30,000 feet.
Travel became my rebound, my therapist, and my escape plan all in one.
I Found Myself in Airports, Not Relationships
Airports became my happy place. Not because they’re relaxing or always reliable (because they’re not), but because they represent possibility and new experiences.
When you’re walking through a terminal alone with your carry‑on and your iced coffee, you feel like the main character. You’re not waiting for someone to choose you — you’re choosing yourself.
I learned more about myself wandering foreign streets alone than I ever learned from a man who couldn’t decide if he liked me or just liked the attention. I found confidence in navigating new places. I found joy in being alone. I found peace in knowing I don’t need a partner to live a full, exciting life.
And somewhere between Gate A12 and Gate C7, I realized something important: I’d rather be single and stamped than cuffed and miserable.
🧳 Travel Filled My Life With Stories — Not Excuses
Men gave me excuses: “I’m busy.” “I’m confused.” “I’m not ready.” “My ex came back.” “My phone died for three days.”
Travel gave me stories: “I got lost in Paris and found the best bakery.” “I met a couple on the cruise who became lifelong friends.” “I watched the sunrise in a place I’d never been.” “I tried something new and didn’t die.”
“I remembered who I am.”
One of those lists is worth writing home about. The other went in the friend group chat for comedic relief to which they said “you should write a blog and share your dating experiences.” So, here we are.
💛 Choosing Planes Over Men Wasn’t Avoidance — It Was Alignment
I didn’t travel because I was running away from love. I traveled because I was running toward myself.
I wanted adventure. I wanted growth. I wanted to feel alive after consistently being disappointed by what was waiting for me at home.
I wanted to stop shrinking myself for people who couldn’t meet me halfway.
And the truth is, when you stop waiting for someone to join you, you start living the life you actually want. If a man wants to be in my life, he’s going to have to keep up — emotionally, mentally, and maybe even at the airport. Maybe I’ll meet him on the journey to my next destination or at the hotel bar when we arrive. You never know who is around the corner, especially when you’re going places!
Because last year taught me something I’ll never forget:
A boarding pass will never break your heart.
And if I end up sitting on more planes than men again this year—Well… that sounds like a win to me.
✈️ This Year, I’m Still Choosing Flights Over Fights
Will I date again? Sure. Will I lower my standards? Absolutely not. Will I stop traveling? Not a chance. And if I’m lucky, maybe this will be the year I catch flights and feels.
Red Eyes Over Red Flags
There comes a point in life when you realize exhaustion is temporary, but emotional chaos has a way over overstaying its welcome.
Red-eye flights get a bad rap. They can leave you sleepless, exhausted and questioning life choices at 5:00 a.m., and occasionally with back pain. But, then again, so do men with red flags. The difference is… a red eye takes me somewhere new and exciting and leaves me with an abundance of adrenaline and excitement to get me through the day. Whereas a man with red flags makes me question if it’s even worth getting out of bed that day. The most exciting place he takes me is a trip to go see a therapist to uncover the mental gymnastics he’s played on my mind.
At least a red-eye flight is honest. You know exactly what you’re getting into. You know up front you’re going to be uncomfortable and lose some sleep. Red flags? They’re disguised in lies and make you believe they’re charming, but you’re just left with confusion and bullshit.
I once dated someone who only showed up or texted when it was convenient. Plans were always tentative. Texts came in waves. When I would bring it up, I would be gaslit. That same month, I booked a quick weekend getaway to visit a friend. With no vacation time, I took the red eye, and arrived exhausted, makeup smudged, and running on fumes—yet I had felt lighter than I had in weeks. It occurred to me I was willing to be tired for the experiences and people who showed up, but bending myself into knots for someone who didn’t.
We’re so quick to take the chance on something that appears amazing, even if we know it’s covered in red flags. But the honest option that may pose minor inconveniences but you know exactly what you get often gets disregarded.
Why I’ll Always Take The Red Eye:
· If you live on the west coast and you travel east, you gain an entire day with a red eye without having to take an extra day off work!
· If you get to the resort after 5pm, you are paying the hotel for a day you didn’t get. You’re also paying the airline for a seat to sit in all day that same day! You’re paying for a day that you didn’t get.
· 2:30 a.m. wake up calls? No, thank you! Living in Los Angeles, I could have to leave the house 4-5 hours before my flight time thanks to 24-7 traffic hell. With a 6:00 a.m. flight, that would mean getting up when my friends are just getting home from the clubs.
· I’ll never get tired of watching a sunrise from 35,000 ft. in the air
Essentially, I look at red-eye flights as an initial setback that pays off! It appears bad at first but the outcome is so much better than what you expected. Essentially—the opposite of a red flag.
Why I Stopped Accepting the Red Flags
While a red eye has a destination, the red flags just keep you circling. It’s an ongoing flight that you can’t get off.
I’d rather:
· Be tired than confused
· Be jet-lagged than emotionally drained
· Arrive groggy with excitement instead of rested and unsettled
Sleep can be recovered quickly. Trust takes forever to recover.
Preferring a red eye doesn’t mean I enjoy discomfort. It means I prefer to sacrifice a little discomfort on the front end to have more time to enjoy and play on the back end.
Final Boarding Call
These days, if I have to choose between temporary discomfort and long-term misalignment, I’m grabbing the carry-on and heading to the gate.
I prefer a red eye over red flags. At least one of them gets me where I’m going and where I belong.
✈️💘 I Can Plan an International Trip Before He Can Plan a Date
Let’s talk about something I’ve recently discovered about myself:
I can plan a 14-day international itinerary — complete with flights, hotels, cruise, activities, restaurant reservations, currency tips, and a color-coded Google map — faster than a man can decide what time he’s free on Friday.
And honestly? That says a lot.
Here’s the thing: When I want to go somewhere, I book the flight.
When I want to see something, I do the research and build an itinerary.
When I want a vibe, I make it happen.
Meanwhile, he’s still “figuring out his schedule.”
His schedule = absolutely nothing but vibes and vague commitments he made to himself in the shower.
✈️ There’s a special skill in being a woman who travels
Women who travel solo, often, or even with their girlfriends all have the same superpower: we make things happen.
Quickly. Efficiently. Effortlessly.
Need flights? Done.
Need hotels? Booked.
Need a full list of activities, hotspots, rooftop bars, hidden gems, and cute photo spots?
Already saved to a folder.
Meanwhile, the guy you’re texting is still typing, deleting, and retyping:
“What do you wanna do?” Or, my favorite: “WYD?”
💬
Here’s why we can plan trips so fast:
1. We’re used to taking care of ourselves.
We don’t wait for someone to make our lives fun or memorable — we just go.
2. We know what we like.
Food, views, vibes, hotels… we have standards, and we’re not shy about them.
3. We’ve learned not to rely on men for planning.
Because let’s be honest:
If I left my weekend up to him, I’d end up making plans my friends instead because he waited too long to decide what he wants to do or I get a last-minute request to come over and watch a movie that we’ve already seen.
4. We have main-character energy.
We’re not waiting around for someone to choose us — we’re choosing experiences.
✈️ Planning a date shouldn’t be harder than booking a flight
A date is literally:
Pick a day
Pick a time
Pick a place
ONE place.
Not five hotels, two airports, three train stations, and a ferry.
And still…
Men act like this is the most complicated decision of their lives.
If I can cross a border, navigate a foreign subway system, and order food in a different language, he can… bare minimum… choose a restaurant.
But somehow? No.
💘 So what does this mean?
It means I’m done over-investing in under-planned men.
If I can plan a whole international trip in 24 hours, I’m not accepting:
“Let’s just see what happens”
“I’ll let you know later”
“What do you wanna do?”
“I’m bad at planning”
“WYD”
You’re not bad at planning.
You’re bad at effort.
And effort is the bare minimum.
✨ Final thought
If a man wants to see you, he’ll plan.
If he wants to date you, he’ll make it clear.
If he wants your time, he’ll value it.
Until then?
I have flights to catch. ✈️
And I promise you:
I will always book a plane ticket faster than I will wait on someone’s bare-minimum energy.