Why I'm Decentering Men This Year

This year, I’m doing something radical.

I’m decentering men.

Not because I’m bitter. Not because I’ve “given up.” Not because I don’t believe in love.

But because dating—both on the apps and organically—was quietly wrecking my nervous system.

And I refuse to abandon myself in the pursuit of partnership.

Dating Was Costing Me More Than I Realized

On paper, I was doing everything “right.”

I was open. Intentional. Communicative. Self-aware.

But behind the scenes? Every disappointment hit my body.

Every mixed signal. Every breadcrumb. Every almost. Every “this has serious potential” …that turned into ambiguity. Every time I got that sinking gut feeling that the energy had shifted on the other end of the phone. Every time someone said all the right things, but didn’t have the capacity to show up consistently for more than a few weeks.

My appetite dwindled down, becoming worse and worse with each letdown. I was losing weight—not in a glowy, thriving way. In a depleted way. I started looking frail. My energy was low. Workouts felt heavier. My joy felt thinner.

And then I saw it.

The stress. Right there on my face. That slightly hollow look that comes from cortisol being chronically elevated. That subtle tightness around the eyes.

I coach people on alignment. On nervous system regulation. On living in integrity. And yet… I was allowing romantic uncertainty to dysregulate me. Fuck that. That’s not alignment.

Let’s Talk About Relational Ambiguity

Relational ambiguity is one of the most stressful psychological states a human can experience.

It’s the gray zone. The “talking stage.” There is no defined container. No clear direction. No safety.

And biologically, that matters.

Women—especially securely attached women who are dating intentionally—are wired to assess stability. Is this safe? Is this consistent? Is this moving somewhere?

Ambiguity keeps the nervous system scanning for threat.

Will he text?
Did I misread that?
Are we exclusive?
Is it too early to ask for clarity?

When the outcome is unclear, the brain doesn’t relax. It stays in low-grade fight-or-flight.

Add in dating apps—which are essentially slot machines for attachment—and you have a perfect storm. Dopamine spikes. Cortisol crashes. Hope. Disappointment. Repeat.

No wonder so many women feel exhausted by modern dating. It’s not that we “care too much.” It’s that our bodies are not designed to thrive in prolonged relational uncertainty.

My Body Was Telling the Truth

Here’s what I teach my clients: your body always tells the truth before your mind catches up. Mine did.

No appetite.
Unwanted weight loss.
Sleep disrupted.
Energy low.
Hollowness in my face.

That’s not love. That’s stress. And I’m no longer willing to sacrifice my physical vitality for potential.

Decentering Men Isn’t About Bitterness—It’s About Power

Decentering men doesn’t mean I don’t want partnership. It means partnership is no longer the organizing principle of my life. It means I’m not structuring my schedule around availability.

It means I’m not emotionally investing in “maybes.”

It means I’m pouring that energy back into:

• My health

• My strength

• My work

• My art

• My friendships

• My home

• My joy

When I zoomed out, I realized something uncomfortable—the mental bandwidth I was giving to men who hadn’t earned a permanent place in my life was too big.

That energy belongs to me.

I Still Believe in Love

Let me be clear—I still believe my person is out there. Maybe I’ve even met him already.

Maybe he’s the slow burn. Maybe he’s the steady one. Maybe he’s still becoming who he needs to be.

But here’s what I know:

Love that’s meant for me will not require chronic nervous system activation. It won’t erode my appetite. It won’t hollow out my face. It won’t make me feel smaller. It will feel steady.

Until then, my focus is on me.

On rebuilding strength. On restoring glow. On eating well. On sleeping deeply. On creating a life that feels so full that a partner would be an expansion—not a rescue.

If he comes—beautiful. If he takes time—also beautiful.

This year is about recentering my body, my peace, and my power. And from that place? Love has a much better chance of finding me.