interviews with myself: becoming emotionally single
02: living in the question and stepping into dating with a full heart
But first, BIG life updates…
I started this year by stepping away from Instagram for nine months—a choice to be more present with the mundane and truly sit with my dreams. And in just the first two months of slowing down, something unexpected happened: a version of my dream life began to unfold. I moved into a brand new apartment last month. One that I’m absolutely in love with.
Last Friday, Mayumi Market and Slow Jamz Gallery hosted their first Pop The Balloon event—a dating game you might’ve seen floating around YouTube or TikTok, and my friends convinced me to sign up to be a contestant (!!!)
LA folks! I’m currently co-creating an in-person workshop with one of my dear friends whose work I deeply admire. It’ll be a space where breath-work, meditation, and writing meet. We’re aiming for it to take place at the end of May.
And soon, I’ll be opening up my calendar to welcome a few new one-on-one meditation clients!
More details and deeper reflections to come—stay tuned.
(10 min read)
For the first time in a long time, I feel emotionally single. Not just in the sense of not being in a relationship—but in the sense that there’s no one I’m holding space for in the background. No lingering emotional attachment. No quiet what-ifs.
I wrote a piece last year titled “on my boyfriend-non-boyfriend relationships & why my love life feels anything but stale.” It felt incredibly true to the season I was in. I was surrounded by connections that fed me. Some platonic, some romantic-ish. And I genuinely felt fulfilled. I wasn’t trying to define anything or make it fit into a box. I found real beauty in letting things be what they were, without expectation or pressure to become more.
Now, I’m in a season where I’m truly making more space for a kind of love that can grow into a solid partnership.
I grew up conditioned to believe love had to look a certain way. In a way that felt rigid, transactional, almost like a trap. That belief sent me searching for something different. I explored new perspectives, like solo polyamory and non-monogamy. And while those paths expanded my heart and challenged everything I thought I knew, what they really gave me was freedom—freedom to unlearn, to question, to define love on my own terms.
At this point in my life, I’ve come to a definition of love that feels self-directed and true to me. I respect the other paths people choose to take, but I’ve come to find that monogamy is where my heart feels most at peace. For a long time, I resisted it because it was pushed on me so hard. But now this choice doesn’t feel like anyone else’s. I’ve chosen it consciously, fully, and for myself.
As I continue to release the relationships that no longer align, I keep arriving at a deeper clarity around the kind of partnership I’m calling in. I’ve never felt more open and more available for a love that meets me fully.
The following self-interview captures exactly where I am right now: honest, in motion, and anchored in what I know I deserve.
Okay, let’s start here—when would you say your last relationship really ended?
The relationship itself ended in 2017, but the connection didn’t. We stayed in each other’s lives in ways that blurred the lines—emotionally close, physically close, always “checking in.” Sometimes it felt like friendship, sometimes it felt like more. For years, it moved in that gray area—what some might call a situationship—but even that feels too neat. There was no real naming, no clear direction. Just a lingering closeness that never settled into something solid or fully chosen.
By 2022, I started to feel the shift. I began accepting that we weren’t going to be together, not because I didn’t love him, but because we didn’t actually meet each other where it mattered most. But I still wasn’t ready to set a solid boundary. We had so much history. I kept holding on longer than I needed to. Not out of desperation, but out of habit. Out of a desire to stay connected to something that felt comfortable and familiar.
Damn, so it lingered for a long time. Was there a moment when you finally knew it was time to let go?
It wasn’t until this January that I made the clear, final decision to stop engaging at all. Not out of anger. Not even heartbreak. Just clarity. It had run its course. I wasn’t in it anymore. And it was time to stop pretending there was something left to hold onto.
What a big shift. So now that you’re (finally) fully out of it, what does it feel like to be single?
It feels spacious. And honest. This is the most emotionally single I’ve ever been, and I mean that in the best way. There’s no confusion about where I stand anymore.
I think before, even when I said I was single, I was still leaving opportunity for past connections (not just my ex) in the back of my mind. I was still trying to make sense of something unresolved. Now, there’s just me. And it doesn’t feel empty, it feels open.
I have so much more room in my life now. Room to dream again. Room to be curious. Room to call something new in without dragging the past behind me. There’s grief in that, but also relief.
That feels grounded. So to be clear, you are open to love? Or are you just enjoying the space for now?
Absolutely. I want a relationship. I’m not afraid to say that anymore. But I don’t feel desperate or frantic about it. I’m not looking for someone to rescue me from my singleness. I’m looking for someone to meet me in my fullness.
I trust that it’s coming. And I’m also not waiting around for it. I’m not putting my joy on pause. My life is already beautiful. Partnership will be a reflection of that—not the proof.
I love that. What do you think shifted in you to make all of this possible?
I stopped trying to make things make sense that didn’t. I stopped assuming I had to be the one to carry all the emotional weight in every relationship. And I stopped abandoning myself in the name of being “understanding.”
For a long time, I was so good at empathizing with other people’s capacity that I forgot to honor my own. I’d give people credit for trying, even when they weren’t actually showing up in the ways that mattered. Now I can see it for what it is. There’s no resentment—just a clearer boundary.
I also started trusting my body more. When something feels off, I believe it. When something feels aligned, I know. That kind of self-trust took years to build, but now that I have it, I don’t plan to lose it.
From the outside, it looks like you’ve done a lot of work. But I’m curious: what did healing actually look like behind the scenes?
It looked like panic attacks in my car. Questioning my worth. Trying to build a business from my childhood bedroom while living back at my parents’ house, unsure of everything.
I started my coaching business in 2021 after quitting my job as a barista, thinking I’d finally stepped into my purpose. But I realized building a business took time, and I remained unemployed for about a year. After that, I spent another year and a half in limbo, trying to figure out what kind of job could support the life I actually wanted. I was burnt out. In debt. Physically and emotionally exhausted.
In 2023, I finally secured a stable day job. It gave me structure, a steady paycheck, and enough breathing room to rebuild. I could finally work on my business again. Without feeling like I was drowning.
Then in 2024, I moved into my own place for the first time. It was small—cramped, honestly—but it gave me solitude. Sanity. Space to hear myself think. I didn’t love the apartment, but I needed it. It was a landing place. It gave me back to myself.
And this past March, I moved again! Into a place I am absolutely in love with. A place that felt like a yes the second I walked in. Quiet, surrounded by trees, double the size, no shared walls. I finally feel at home in a physical space. Like the space around me matches the space I’ve created within me.
And now that I’m here, I’m going into dating with an entirely new perspective. I’m not hoping someone will bring clarity, or stability, or direction. I already have all of that.
What I want now is a love that fits the life I’ve worked so hard to build. Something grounded, intentional, and clear—because that’s how I’m showing up too.
Has anything been surprising you this season?
The kindness of strangers. How much love I’ve felt in the smallest, most unexpected moments.
The Nordstrom employee who helped me pick out an outfit for a big event. She stayed with me for nearly an hour and ran around the store searching for what I asked for with so much intention. As she rang me up, I told her she had boss energy and asked if she was the manager. She seemed pleased to receive that compliment. She told me she was actually interviewing for a new role at a different company she was excited about. In that moment, I saw myself in her—someone standing at the edge of change, ready for what’s next, even if it’s still unfolding.
The Filipino guy at Best Buy who noticed my last name while I was checking out. He looked young—early twenties, maybe. We talked about being Filipino, and when I told him I lived alone, he asked how my parents felt about it. I could tell he wanted that freedom too, maybe hoping to move out with his girlfriend. I saw that longing, that stretch between duty and desire. I smiled and said, “You deserve that.”
A technician came to fix my sit-stand desk, and we ended up talking about the photo booth business he runs with his dad on the side. He told me how much he loves it, and seemed really proud of what they’ve built. I didn’t expect a conversation like that during a service call, but it reminded me how possible it is to connect with anyone at any given time.
At the pizza shop around the corner from my new place, the server pulled the hot pie straight from the oven and started setting it on my table for me to eat there. I’d asked for it to-go, but he must’ve missed it. When I reminded him, he looked genuinely disappointed I wasn’t planning to enjoy it fresh. I told him it was for me and my friends. As he gently transferred it into a box, he smiled and said, “Bring your friends next time and eat here, okay?”
And my new property manager—probably somewhere in his 70s or 80s—who lives in the front house, gives me the kindest bear hugs whenever he sees me. The other day, he opened his arms and said, “Where have you been? I miss you.” We hugged tight, like we’d known each other a lifetime. Like that kind of care didn’t need time to build.
All of these moments remind me of something I’ve been feeling more and more lately: Love is everywhere. Not in some far-off future, and not only in romance—but here. In real time. In passing exchanges and quiet affirmations.
And as I get clearer on the kind of partnership I want, these small interactions have shown me that I’m not waiting for love to begin. I’m already living in the frequency of it. The universe keeps sending little signals—quiet, unforced, sincere—reminding me that I’m ready. That I know what it feels like. That I’m not searching from lack, but from overflow.
I feel like those moments are so telling. So with all this clarity, what exactly are you calling in now? What’s next?
Exactly what it looks like is still being written. I’m learning what it feels like to live in the question. But as for now: A relationship that feels emotionally safe, creatively inspired, spiritually aligned, and real. Someone with a sense of humor. Someone who listens well. Someone who knows how to reflect, how to take accountability, how to stay curious.
I want something rooted. Something that feels playful and expansive. Someone I can grow with. I want to be with someone who respects the kind of work I’ve done on myself. Someone who gets how much intention it’s taken to build this life.
I’m calling in ease. Not laziness, not passivity—but the kind of ease that comes from mutual effort.
And I want to keep building a life that makes me proud. I want my work to expand. I want my friendships to deepen even more. I want to keep being brave in love, in art, in rest.
Sounds like a great place to start. What would you say you know for sure now?
That I’m whole.
That letting go of past relationships doesn’t mean I failed—it means I’m free.
And I’m not afraid of how good life can get from here.
—
I don’t know exactly what comes next, but I trust myself in a way I never have before. That feels like the real shift.
If this sort of love arrives tomorrow, I’ll be ready. If it arrives next year, I’ll still be ready. And if the path looks different than I imagined, I’ll keep walking it with an open heart.
Because I’ve learned how to be with myself in the stillness. I’ve learned how to let go without losing my softness. I’ve learned that becoming available isn’t about being perfect—it’s about being present.
And I’m here.
Clear, heart-open, and more myself than I’ve ever been.
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An absolutely beautiful read + interview, Val. I found myself saying out loud, "Oooh, YES!" after so many mic-drop lines. Thank you for continuously letting us in. <3
goddamnit. just beautiful, to sit in your reflections and your peace. love is everywhere, and you are home.