There’s a truth I’ve been coming to terms with lately, and maybe you need to hear it too: you can be surrounded by love, connection, and intimacy—and still be disconnected from yourself.

I’m married, polyamorous, raising a vivacious 3-year-old, running multiple businesses, managing creative projects, and nurturing relationships with friends, lovers, and partners. By every measure, my life is full. Overflowing, even. But if I’m honest? I’ve been running on empty.

The Reality of a Non-Stop Life

My days start at 7am waking my daughter up, and from that moment until well past midnight, often 1 or 2am, I’m in motion. Parenting, husbanding, friending, partnering, working, planning, connecting, caretaking—until finally, around 11pm or later, I find myself sitting on the couch, remote in hand, scrolling aimlessly through shows I’m too tired to finish.

I used to tell myself this was my “me time.” That staying up until 1am watching TV or scrolling my phone was a well-earned break. But the truth? It wasn’t care—it was collapse.

I’ve since learned there’s a name for this, particularly common among folks with ADHD: revenge bedtime procrastination. It’s that rebellious impulse to stay up late because it’s the only part of the day that feels like yours. But instead of nurturing you, it steals the rest you desperately need. And it’s not really reclaiming your time—it’s sabotaging it.

Dating Yourself Isn’t Just “Alone Time”

Somewhere along the way, I mistook “being alone” for “taking care of myself.” But they aren’t the same. Dating yourself is intentional. It’s carving out time not just to rest, but to reconnect with your own curiosity, joy, and inner world—without anyone else’s expectations layered on top.

Especially in polyamory, where our calendars can fill up with partner time, social dates, and relationship maintenance, it’s easy to forget that we’re a partner to ourselves too. And we deserve to show up for that relationship just as intentionally.

This isn’t about isolation or withdrawal. It’s about cultivating self-intimacy—a relationship with yourself that’s playful, nourishing, and deeply yours.

When a Lover Led Me Back to Myself

Ironically, it was a lover who reminded me to date myself. One night, they invited me to Othership, a stunning breathwork and sauna studio in Flatiron, NYC. I had no idea what to expect, but the moment I walked in, I felt it: this place wasn’t just another wellness space. Othership is magic.

The heat of the sauna, the cold plunge—the coldest in NY so I was told by Amanda the owner, the collective but personal rhythm of breathwork—it pulled me back into my body in a way I hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t just relaxing. It was restorative. Reinvigorating.

I took a two-week trial membership, and each visit felt like a love letter to myself. A quiet but powerful “I see you. I’ve got you.”

(If you’ve never been, I can’t recommend it enough—and I’ll definitely be writing more about my Othership experiences.)

Ways to Date Yourself (Even When You’re Tired)

Not every act of self-dating needs to be as elaborate as a sauna ritual or guided breathwork. Sometimes it’s the smallest gestures that whisper care back into your life. Here’s what I’ve learned—along with how long they take, how easy they are to start, and what they offer:

If you’re reading this and thinking, “But when am I supposed to fit this in?”—I get it. I’m still figuring it out too. But what I’m learning is that time for yourself doesn’t appear. You have to claim it.

And here’s the twist: dating yourself doesn’t always look “productive” or “transformative.” Sometimes it’s quietly eating dinner without a screen. Sometimes it’s dancing alone in your living room. Sometimes it’s booking a sauna at Othership because you deserve the heat, the stillness, the reset.

Why It’s So Hard (and So Worth It)

If you’ve been socialized to prioritize everyone else’s needs—or if you’re a parent, a caregiver, or someone who thrives in service to others—it can feel almost wrong to carve out time just for you.

I’ve felt guilty. I’ve worried I’m selfish. I’ve worried I’m letting people down. But what I’m realizing is this:

I can’t pour into others if I’m chronically dehydrated.

Dating myself has made me a more patient parent. A more present lover. A more honest friend. It’s helped me listen to myself before I expect anyone else to.

And most importantly, it’s reminded me that I’m worthy of my own attention—not because I’m “earning” it, but because I exist.

Where to Start

If this feels overwhelming, start small. Pick one moment this week that’s yours. One coffee. One bath. One hour at a place like Othership (if you’re in NYC).

And if it feels awkward? That’s okay. Like any relationship, the one with yourself takes time, intention, and practice.

But here’s the promise I’m making to myself—and maybe you want to make it too:

No matter how many people love me, I will not forget to love myself.

Because at the end of the day, no partner, lover, or friend can take you on the journey back to yourself. That’s a date only you can make—and only you can keep.

Related reading

These pieces continue the same thread around attachment and emotional wellness.

• The Avoidant Polyamorist: When Independence Becomes Isolation
• What to Do When Your Partner Says Yes… and Then Struggles
• What Is the Cutting the Cord Ritual? A Grounded Guide to Letting Go