the red flags i ignored as a dating and relationships writer

they were obvious AND insidious

We met on Bumble.

He was a tall, handsome military doctor who used full sentences, proper punctuation and asked thoughtful questions about my writing and my life. It felt like grown-up dating was finally delivering on its promise: warm, curious and full of Oxford commas. I thought I’d found a good one.

I was wrong.

Photo by Seoyeon Choi on Unsplash

Here’s the thing about dating in your 40s and being a dating and relationships writer: you think you’ve learned something. You’ve read the books and been to therapy. You think you know what to look for. You know what an avoidant attachment style looks and sounds like. You know what “I’m too busy” really means. You know if “he wanted to, he would” is usually a legit litmus test for a man’s investment in you.

But then a hot Navy doctor slides into your life with good spelling and a defined jawline, and you forget everything.

Not because I’m an idiot who hasn’t learned anything, but because I’m human. I’m a single woman with a big heart and an unruly black cat, swiping on guys, asking one of them to love me (when warranted and vetted, of course).

When Hot Navy Doctor bounced (although I think “hot” is pushing it a little, but it has a better ring to it than “Above Average Attractive” Navy Doctor), I was disappointed, but I wasn’t surprised.

In retrospect, there had been a ton of red flags waving in my face like I was at a NASCAR race. As someone who’s been writing about dating and relationships for over 10 years, I couldn’t believe that I missed some of the most obvious ones. Maybe “missed” is the wrong word ― it was more like I “ignored” them or made excuses for them ― the very same excuses that I’ve written about not making in my professional life.

Here are the red flags I missed ― and ones that I would advise not ignoring or making excuses for, and, instead, letting their blatant disrespect or disinterest be enough for you to cut your losses and move on a heck of a lot quicker than I did.

He was busy — a lot.

He was a doctor and in the military. There were deployments, late nights and long shifts. This meant he was texting less and planning fewer dates, and sometimes going long stretches without contacting me. Near the end of our “situationship,” he didn’t contact me for a month. I chalked it up to him being on a Navy ship in the middle of the ocean.

But here’s the thing: If our connection had mattered to him, he would’ve shown up. He would’ve responded to a simple text, “Let me know how you’re doing when you can!” But he didn’t.

We didn’t talk about what we were looking for in terms of dating.

Which brings me to my next point. I think if our connection were something he was serious about (or at least, half-way interested in), he would’ve made more attempts at communicating and being clear about, well, everything. But we never discussed what we wanted in terms of dating. We didn’t ask each other, “Why are you on this app? What are you looking for?”

Instead, we both kept it vague. I said I was looking to explore things and see where things were going. I thought I was being open-minded and not applying pressure too soon. He probably heard that as giving him carte blanche to continue being just as noncommittal. Near the end, when I finally asked what he was looking for, he still couldn’t answer me. Red. Freaking. Flag.

We stayed in the gray zone for way too long.

Not talking about our relationship or what we wanted only prolonged the murky, gray zone that we were stuck in. We weren’t really seeing each other regularly — because, as I mentioned, he was “too busy” — and we weren’t exactly clear with what we both wanted.

So the whole thing just kind of stalled. It stayed hazy and confusing, especially as it started to fizzle out. No real clarity meant that I got exactly what I didn’t want: a situationship. And worse, a situationship that wasn’t defined. This left me dealing with more questions than answers, and more confusion than necessary.

He never picked up my phone calls.

This one was sneaky. He could easily blame it on his demanding schedule as a doctor. And sure, he was often busy — at a funeral, asleep after a long shift, or getting up early to go on a ship. Reasonable excuses… but they were still excuses.

Whenever I wanted to talk on the phone, which wasn’t often, but felt necessary for things like clarifying our intimacy dynamic (more on that later) or understanding what his deployment meant for us, he was always unavailable.

In hindsight, it wasn’t just about being busy. It was about avoiding direct communication and, more importantly, avoiding vulnerability and potential confrontation — red flag.

He was hyperfixated on sex.

At first, he wasn’t. And I appreciated that. We didn’t immediately jump into conversations about intimacy. On our second date, we watched a movie at my place without any kissing or touching. I was nervous, but also relieved. It felt respectful. But later that week, he brought up the fact that we hadn’t been intimate and asked what I thought about our connection. At the time, I thought he just wanted reassurance. Then, as we got closer, he said he wanted to “deepen” our conversations, which turned out to mean: talk about what we liked in bed.

Again, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I figured we were building emotional and physical intimacy. But it quickly escalated: He asked for nudes before we’d even kissed. After he left for deployment, most of his messages were sexual. When he got back, he didn’t ask to see me, but he did ask if I wanted to play “strip poker.”

When we finally did sleep together, he ghosted me shortly afterward. He said our chemistry wasn’t a fit. In reality, I think sex had always been the end goal. And while there’s nothing wrong with wanting sex, I wish, as I told him, he had just been honest about it from the beginning.

He lived in a different city.

This one doesn’t have to be a red flag, per se — some long-distance relationships do work out — but for me, it was another sign that I was putting someone else’s needs above my own. I would’ve preferred to date someone in my own city, but he was only about three hours away, and I told myself it wouldn’t matter. I thought if the connection were worth it, the distance wouldn’t matter. And maybe, if he didn’t have the previous five flags, it wouldn’t have.

But sometimes we ignore our dealbreakers because we’re not ready to step into a different paradigm of a relationship. In hindsight, I can see that the distance allowed me to avoid the intimacy and vulnerability I said I wanted, but was also scared to have.

Why we ignore red flags — even when we know better.

Looking back on these signs, it’s like, Brianne, what were you thinking? Of course, he was a walking red flag. However, in my defense, these signs showed up almost insidiously, slowly, and over time. Admittedly, too much time.

But as eharmony dating and relationships expert Minaa B. pointed out to me, it’s often easier to spot red flags in other people’s relationships than in our own — especially when the behavior feels familiar or when we’re holding onto hope that things will change. Something that I definitely relate to.

“People often minimize how frequently we engage in denial as a protective factor against the harshness of reality,” she said. “Even when we know better, we may choose to remain optimistic, which leads us to the concept of delusional optimism. This occurs when we overestimate the likelihood of a positive event happening while underestimating the likelihood of negative outcomes, despite the facts being presented.”

According to Minaa, this cognitive bias makes people think, “It might happen to others, but it won’t happen to me.” As a result, individuals may make choices rooted in their desires while ignoring reality. “If red flags are present, they are real, not imagined,” she said. “Once a person acknowledges this truth, they can learn to make better decisions regarding the people they date.”

How to learn the lesson (for real).

As for how we can get better at seeing the red flags in our own dating lives, Minaa says it comes down to teaching ourselves how to maintain a regulated nervous system.

“When we are constantly in a state of fight, flight, or freeze, it may become normal to choose someone who also keeps us stuck in this state, as survival mechanisms are all we know, along with dysregulation,” she said. “A regulated nervous system can differentiate between safety and threat. By learning to sustain a regulated nervous system, we become more self-attuned. This self-awareness allows us to identify what is important to us, such as our values and beliefs, as well as the things that don’t make us feel safe.”

I know there were definite moments that I felt weren’t sitting exactly right with the Above-Average Attractive Navy Doctor that left me in a fight or freeze mode (my go-tos), like not picking up my phone calls or not regularly planning dates. I made up excuses for him, and while they might have been true — maybe he was truly busy — his behavior still didn’t align with the values I seek in a partner, and that was the only red flag I needed to walk away.

But walking away isn’t something my nervous system is attuned to... yet. I’ve previously “hung in there” with previous partners who weren’t right for me because it’s something that I’ve adapted from childhood — something that Minaa says is common when dealing with red flags.

“Familiar behavior can feel normal,” she said. “When individuals grow up in homes where dysfunction is common, they may perceive these red flags as typical behavior that they should tolerate and accept.”

In the meantime, all I can hope for is that I am learning my lessons while dating, including not overlooking discrepancies between what people say and what they actually do, or find myself rationalizing or making excuses to make someone fit into our lives — signs that Minaa said are typical when we are excusing or ignoring the reddest of red flags.

If you are also guilty of ignoring red flags and feeling bad about it, Minaa said it’s important to show self-compassion when we make choices that do not align with our current values or belief systems.

“Self-compassion simply means showing yourself kindness,” she shares. “If a close friend of yours overlooked red flags and was beating themselves up over it, how would you respond to them? What grace would you show them for their mistakes? How would you comfort them? Think about this and apply it to yourself. View it as an opportunity to learn more about yourself, to understand why you made those decisions, and remember that you have the power to change. Your past doesn’t have to hold you captive.”

As I move forward in my dating life, I am committed to acting sooner on the things that don’t work for me — and forgiving myself for ignoring the red flags that happen to the best of us.

Originally published on Huffington Post