I’m noticing something new in myself around dating — something calmer, cleaner, and strangely affirming.

When someone matches with me and then quickly unmatches once they see that I have a child, it used to sting. I’d wonder if it was something about me, or my attractiveness, or some flaw they saw that I hadn’t noticed.

But today, it landed differently.

They didn’t unmatch because of me.
They unmatched because of the idea of dating a parent.

And honestly, that feels strangely grounding.

It tells me that what they rejected wasn’t my personality, my face, my presence, or my energy. They didn’t even get far enough for those things to matter. What they rejected was a role, or maybe a lifestyle they weren’t prepared to enter.

And that’s okay.

I only look after my son 30–40% of the time.
I don’t need help.
I’m not asking anyone to raise him.
I’m asking for a partner — not a step-parent.

If someone isn’t ready to walk into the emotional risks that come with dating a parent, then they’re simply not my person.

It’s not rejection.
It’s filtration.

But if I’m honest, there’s a flicker of fear inside me too.
The thought that:
“I may never find someone who fits.”
It’s small, but it’s there, and I can acknowledge it without being swallowed by it.

Still, when I sit with the truth of it, I realise something deeper:
I’m not willing to model giving up.
Not for my son.
Not for myself.
There is zero chance I show him a father who shrinks away from life because love feels risky.

The only other option would be to stop trying —
and I am not that man.

So I continue, not from desperation, but from a kind of quiet integrity.
The right person won’t be scared off by the fact that I’m a father.
The right person will see it as part of who I am — not a limitation, not a warning sign.

Just a truth about my life.

And in that truth, I stand.