Over a year ago, I met the love of my life, Ian. I didn't meet him like my parents met, but rather on Tinder. Yeah, yeah, Tinder is only for hookups, OK. But hear me out. It's really not only for that, and even if it is, for where I was in my life, that was definitely not what I wanted to use it for.

So long story short, we met, talked a ton for a week or so, and then we had our first date. Being who I am, I definitely overtalked. I honestly don't remember him talking much at all (whoops, honey), and when he dashed out only a bit over an hour after we got there, I thought the worst, despite his good reasoning.

Turns out my overtalking didn't scare him away, because even before the end of the weekend, we had our second date. I felt like a financial burden and asked if we could go somewhere I could afford to pay my own bill: Wendy's. We dated for about another month and eventually made it official. Since then, I have learned so much about myself, love, and even my past.

Early on I realized how much anxiety I had about feelings. I was terrified of being the second choice, of putting more in than I got out, and so much more. My anxiety about him and I was excessive not just for the first month, but really for many, many months. In my past, I have been deceived, hurt, cheated on, and invalidated left and right. Those learned experiences made it so hard for me to open up.

I learned that when I finally let my anxieties go, I could finally open up to him.

Not that I wasn't open before, but it definitely wasn't as much. It all gave me a clear understanding of what my love language was. It's verbal, and it's my trigger for anxiety or a lack thereof. Because of this, being with someone who doesn't articulate his feelings as often became very difficult. The moment I finally released those emotions was the night we said I love you. I finally knew that I could trust him, just from three little words, as stupid as it is.

I stressed for multiple months about telling him I loved him. I knew at some point that he felt the same, but I was too terrified of rejection to bring it up. He did things that told me how he felt, but I needed those words.

I learned that if you care, you'll learn your partner's love language.

After the stress of figuring out if he loved me, I took a step back and realized how much it had weighed on me. I assumed his language was the same as mine, and if he didn't say it, he clearly didn't love me. But that's just not the case. Just because he understands love in a different way, didn't mean it was wrong. I realized I needed to be less neurotic about every little detail. I thought that people were just pretending that they didn't overthink things as I do. Sometimes, though, they're not pretending, they just really don't have those over-analytical thoughts.

Now back to the beginning. Me asking to go to Wendy's shows one of the things I learned about as well. I didn't know how to let others take care of me. For a large amount of my young adult life, I've had to take care of myself as well as others, hence why some call me Mom. In life, though, and especially in relationships, it's important to be able to ask for help sometimes. We can't go through everything alone.

I learned to ask for help when I need it but still keep my independence intact.

After I learned this, I definitely got more clingy, but I opened up and was able to lean on him when I needed it the most.

The next one is surprising but I will say, I didn't have a great model in my home of romantic love, so that's probably why I had to learn this by myself. Through every relationship, I always figured that it was a problem if we didn't argue often. People are different, so clearly huge arguments have to happen on a semi-regular-basis, right? Well, wrong, it turns out.

I learned that differences don't result in fighting, misunderstandings and lack of consideration do.

It's easy to fight, but it's healthier to explain and listen. That's something I had to learn. It's not that I fought with every guy I ever dated, really the opposite. I always thought that not fighting meant we weren't showing each other our real emotions. It made my anxiety go wild. Only after I was comfortable enough to open up with Ian did I realize that this wasn't the case in the slightest. Oh well, silly me.

I write this on our one-year anniversary, and I am so thankful for what I have learned over the past year. I was clearly a little backward before Ian, and even though I'm still not perfect and will never be, at least I know I'm getting better. And I hope Ian knows I'm trying.

This year, I learned what being in love should look like.

It's not perfect, but it's not overly complicated either. It has its amazing days and its difficult days. All in all, though, it's based in real life, real emotions, and real love, not some fantasy perpetuated by my various misconceptions.

Ian, thank you for teaching me this year and letting me teach you as well. Happy one year out of many of love.