Marisol’s Story: Choosing Herself in a World That Won’t Stop Questioning Her
At 23, Marisol is supposed to feel like the world is opening up for her. She just graduated college, she’s figuring out her next steps, and for the first time, she’s ready to explore what dating could look like for her.
But instead of feeling excited, she feels exhausted.
Most of her college experience was spent staring at a screen, listening to professors drone on in tiny Zoom boxes. She missed out on late-night study sessions in coffee shops, whispered conversations in lecture halls, and the kind of spontaneous moments where relationships naturally take shape. By the time things went back to normal, she was cramming in-person classes into her last few semesters, too busy catching up to even think about dating.
And now? Now she feels like she’s walking into a party that started hours ago, where everyone already knows the rules—except her.
Trying to Date in a Transactional World
She tried online dating during the pandemic. It felt like a necessary evil—everyone was doing it, and it seemed like the only way to meet people. But swiping through profiles felt transactional. Conversations fizzled before they even started. And every time she thought she had a decent connection, it ended just as fast as it began.
Now that she’s meeting people in person, she thought it would feel different. Better. But somehow, it just feels more overwhelming.
On one date, Ethan took her to a rooftop bar, full of sleek, well-dressed people sipping overpriced cocktails. He talked about how he was a feminist, how he believed in equality, how he wanted to see more women in leadership roles. It sounded great—until the bill came, and she reached for her wallet.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he said with a smug smile. “I got it.”
She thanked him, but the air shifted. And when she didn’t invite him back to her place after, his tone changed completely.
“So I just dropped all that on you, and I don’t even get to come up?”
Her stomach dropped. She laughed nervously, hoping she misheard him.
He didn’t laugh back.
Another time, Josh seemed sweet at first. He asked about her job search, her family, her dreams for the future. She thought, Maybe this will be different.
Then, halfway through the night, he leaned in and said, “You know, I’ve always been drawn to Latinas. There’s just something about you.”
Something about her?
She knew what he meant. It wasn’t her he liked—it was the idea of her. She wasn’t a person to him; she was an aesthetic. A category. A type.
She went home that night feeling smaller. Like she was being slotted into a role she didn’t ask for. Like no one was actually seeing her.
Backlash for Her Dating Preferences
After a few more disappointing dates, Marisol started paying more attention to what she actually wanted. She thought about her family—about her mom’s voice switching between Spanish and English, about her cousins shouting over each other at birthday parties, about the quiet, unspoken understanding that came with shared culture.
She wanted that in a relationship. Someone who got it, who understood her background without her having to explain every little thing. Someone who just fit.
So, she decided to be more intentional. She started saying, honestly, that she preferred dating within her culture.
And suddenly, people had opinions.
“That’s kind of close-minded, don’t you think?”
“You’re limiting yourself.”
“Isn’t that, like, kind of like reverse discrimination?”
The irony made her dizzy.
Her entire life, people had made her feel othered—mispronouncing her name, making weird comments about her hair, asking if her family ate “spicy food all the time.” She had spent years being reminded she wasn’t quite American enough for some people.
And now, when she sought out a connection where she didn’t have to explain herself, she was suddenly the problem?
Coaching Sessions: Flipping the Script
By the time Marisol came to me, she felt drained. She was tired of being made to feel guilty for wanting something that felt natural to her.
In our sessions, we focused on flipping the script—not just in how she responded to others, but in how she spoke to herself.
1. Rewriting the Narrative:
We started by unpacking the guilt.
I asked her, “If your best friend told you she felt safest dating within her culture, would you call her close-minded?”
She laughed. “Of course not.”
“So why do you hold yourself to a different standard?”
Silence. This is what we do, especially as women.
We continue to hang on to others’ gaslighting.
We question our own needs when the world challenges them.
I had her rewrite that internal monologue:
❌ “Maybe I’m being too picky.”
✅ “I deserve to feel understood in my relationship.”
❌ “Maybe I should give people more of a chance.”
✅ “I trust my instincts, and they are guiding me toward what’s best for me.”
2. Boundary Practice: The Art of Saying Less
Marisol hated feeling like she had to debate people about her preferences. So we practiced neutral, non-engaging responses:
✅ “This is what feels right for me.”
✅ “I know what I want, and I’m okay with that.”
✅ “I’m not interested in justifying my choices.”
No over-explaining.
3. Spotting Red Flags Earlier
We also did an exercise where she wrote down all the ways men had made her feel small—whether it was transactional dating, being fetishized, or being dismissed when she set boundaries.
Then, I asked her to flip it: “What would it look like if a man made you feel safe?”
She wrote:
✨ He respects my boundaries the first time I set them.
✨ He doesn’t act like I owe him something for spending time with him.
✨ He sees me as a whole person—not a category.
I told her: If a man isn’t making you feel like this, you don’t owe him your time.
And she finally exhaled.
The Moment She Decided She Was Done Explaining
One night, after yet another exhausting conversation about why she felt the way she did, Marisol lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
She thought about her culture, about how much warmth and understanding came with it. She thought about how much easier it felt to be around people who just got it—where she didn’t have to explain why she called her mom three times a week or why family parties lasted until 2 AM.
She wanted to feel at home in a relationship. And that wasn’t something she needed to apologize for.
So, she made a decision.
The next time someone tried to challenge her? She wouldn’t argue. She wouldn’t debate. She wouldn’t waste energy justifying what she already knew to be true.
She’d simply say, “This is what feels right for me,” and leave it at that.
No more guilt. No more over-explaining. No more letting other people make her question what she knew in her bones.
She’d delete the apps for a while. She’d focus on meeting people in spaces where she felt comfortable. And she’d remind herself—she wasn’t too picky. She wasn’t wrong.
She was just choosing herself.
And for the first time in a long time, that felt like enough.