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There are people in our lives who may not have been able to give us everything we needed.
And sometimes, somehow, they often still lead us toward something that can.
My dad did that for me.
Four years ago, I came home after heartbreak feeling pretty rattled. I was trying to find my footing again, to find some calm and remember myself.
My dad brought me to the water on the Gulf Coast of Florida. And the water led me to the manatees.
Over time, these gentle creatures became more than something I loved seeing in the wild. They became teachers.
Manatees are discerning about where they spend their energy. They seek warm water. They move slowly enough to sense what’s around them. They’re curious without rushing. They come close, and they move away. They rest. They surface for air.
There’s something in that way of being that I keep coming back to—in dating, in friendship, in relationships, and in our relationship with ourselves.
What happens when we stop asking, “How do I make this work?” and start asking, “Does this feel like warm water to me?”
That question has stayed with me.
Over time, the manatees and what they’ve taught me about curiosity, discernment, gentleness, and connection inspired the Manatee Lesbian Love & Connection Cards, and more recently the Dating Like a Manatee, a free little field guide for slowing down, getting curious, practicing discernment, and creating more meaningful connections.
It’s about dating, yes. But it’s also about how we get to know people. How we listen to ourselves while we’re doing it. How we notice where we soften, where we tense, where we feel curious, and where something in us wants to swim away.
And sometimes the path to warm water surprises us.
Is there someone in your life who couldn’t give you everything you needed, but somehow connected you with something that did?
Sometimes life asks us to go beneath the surface to find those unexpected gems—not to bypass the sadness or disappointment of this very human experience, but to hold both.
The grief and the gift.
The thing we didn’t receive, and the thing we found along the way.
I’m grateful my dad brought me to the water.
I’m grateful the water led me to the manatees.
And I’m grateful I get to share some of what they’ve taught me with you.
May you keep noticing what feels like warm water—and give yourself permission to swim toward it.
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