“I want what you want.” It sounds sexy when you say it to someone who wants you back. When they want you to get what you want, too. But said to someone who isn’t showing signs of longing for you in the same way? Not so much. And yes, I’ve said it before.
Maybe you’ve said it too, or at least thought some version of it. Maybe not out loud, but in the way you read into their texts, the way you adjusted your expectations, the way you leaned a little too far forward.
Dating stirs up so much hope, vulnerability, longing, and fear. It makes us desire so hard. But there’s a fine line between longing and losing yourself, and most of us only learn where it is by crossing it.
I’ve crossed it. I’ve sat on my bed rereading texts, talking myself into accepting crumbs because at least crumbs meant something. I’ve mistaken intensity for intimacy, and anxiety for attraction. I’ve twisted myself into emotional pretzels trying to manage how I came across. I’ve confused chemistry for compatibility and called it romance. I’ve tried to pass off desperation as devotion.
At some point, I began to think the problem was wanting someone too much. That if I could just care a little less, I’d win the game, get the guy, keep the upper hand. But that wasn’t the real issue. The problem wasn’t desire. It was how unanchored I felt in the wanting.
What I’ve come to understand is that somewhere between giving ourselves away too quickly and guarding ourselves against heartbreak, there’s a wiser path. It’s called slow dating and it’s the path of being anchored, first. It’s about learning how to stay in relationship with yourself as you move toward another person. It’s learning what it means to stay grounded as you date so that you can show up without being needy or clingy, and where you can trust the unfolding, even when you really want love.
Desire can be a beautiful thing when it flows through a woman who knows her worth, trusts her pace, and stays connected to herself, no matter how much she wants someone. And when you know how to desire from your center, you become anchored over attached. You stop sacrificing the realest desires of your heart or outsourcing your self-worth to another person’s availability, interest, or timeline.
You still get to want love and connection. You just don’t have to bleed for it.
Missed the intro post on Slow Dating? Read it here.
What Does It Mean to Be Anchored Over Attached?
When I think of being anchored over attached, I picture myself as a little boat bobbing around in the bay. For a long time, I wasn’t anchored at all. I was completely at the whim of men. Attached to their wants, desires, and lifestyles.
A man would show up, give me attention, and I’d tie myself right to his boat. Or worse, he wouldn’t show up at all, and I’d throw my rope over anyway. When he drifted emotionally, energetically or physically, so did I. When his tide changed, so did my sense of self. When he pulled away, it felt like I was being dragged under.
What this meant in reality? Weekend after weekend crying my little heart out. Feeling gutted when things didn’t go anywhere. Questioning what else I needed to fix, prove, or soften. Wondering if I was loving too much, or not enough. Abandoning my own boat completely just to jump on his, only to realize he didn’t have space, direction, or sometimes even an oar.
Eventually, I started to realize that as long as I kept trying to attach my boat to someone else’s, I’d always feel unmoored. I didn’t need to be tied to someone else’s boat to feel secure, I just needed to drop my own anchor.
Now when I date, I still imagine myself in the bay, still open, still responsive to the tide, but I’m anchored in me. I can drift, explore, and even dance with someone else’s current, but I’m not going to lose myself in the process.
Being anchored means I’m deeply rooted in who I am, what I desire, and what I deserve. It means I don’t cling out of fear or fantasy. I no longer sacrifice the longings of my own heart just to feel chosen by someone else.
You can want to connect deeply without becoming dependent or desperate. That steady inner anchor allows you to show up with openness instead of anxiety. Being anchored doesn’t mean being inflexible. It doesn’t mean shutting down your needs or acting like you don’t care. It’s not cold or rigid.
In fact, anchoring is what gives you the flexibility to move freely and to flow with someone without getting swept away. It means you’re no longer using someone to soothe your fear of being alone, or to prop up your worth, or to dissolve into because you don’t feel safe standing on your own.
Dropping Your Anchor: The First Practice of Slow Dating
Anchoring is the process of coming home to yourself, again and again. It’s what happens when you learn to sink into your body, quiet the noise of your mind, and remember that all is truly well, right now.
It’s the felt sense that you’re grounded. That you are held and that Life itself is supporting you. So when your thoughts begin to crowd in, when you feel the pull of old patterns, or when your desire starts spiraling into fantasy, dropping your anchor is what brings you back. Back to your breath, your body and your knowing.
Below, I’m sharing the three steps that have helped me become anchored over attached in dating. These aren’t just steps for dating, they’re a way of relating to life that will help you stay steady, self-trusting, open-hearted, and happy… even while the person of your dreams is still finding their way to you.
1. Get Clear on How You Want to Feel Aka: Know Where You’re Dropping Your Anchor
In slow dating, you stop outsourcing your emotional experience to other people. You take radical responsibility for how you want to feel and you cultivate those feelings from within.
Before you start dating with intention, you have to know what you’re anchoring into. That means getting crystal clear on what emotional experience you’re really longing for. Is it to feel cherished? Safe? Desired? Supported? Chosen? Excited?
This step is about defining the felt sense of the relationship you’re calling in, so you’re not just drifting toward anyone who looks good on paper. Spend time journaling, daydreaming, and feeling into those states. Imagine yourself feeling deeply loved… and then relax into it. Imagine feeling supported… and then feel into that sense of being held.
The key isn’t just naming the feeling, it’s practicing it. Before asking someone else to make you feel a certain way, ask yourself: Can I feel this first? Can I offer this to myself? Because when you’re grounded in the experience you desire, you’re no longer trying to extract it from someone who isn’t available to give it. You begin aligning with people who want to feel those same things, and who’ve also done the inner work to meet you there.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned in dating, is that it’s not about convincing a particular person to love me the way I want. It’s about aligning with the person who’s already capable and ready to do so.
2. Practice the Art of Non-Doing Aka: Trust That Your Anchor Will Find Its Own Way to the Ocean Floor
Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is stop trying so hard. In slow dating, we’re not anxiously scanning the horizon or yanking the rope to speed things up. We’re learning how to let the anchor do what it’s built to do—sink.
This is the art of non-doing. It might sound counterproductive when you’re feeling eager (or even desperate) to find your person. But that urgency? That frantic need to do something? That’s exactly why this is such a powerful practice.
The art of non-doing comes from Taoist philosophy. It’s not about laziness or apathy. It’s about what the Taoists call wu wei, aka effortless action. Moving in alignment with life rather than pushing, forcing, or chasing. It’s about trusting that the clarity you set in Step 1 is enough to begin calling in what’s meant for you. Your work now is to stay connected to yourself, not contort for someone else. To lean back into your own body, your own life, and let things unfold with ease.
It’s being so grounded in yourself that you can wait, observe, and respond, rather than react. This means that when someone you’re into takes three days to text back, instead of spiraling or sending a “just checking in” message, you breathe. You stay with yourself and you do nothing. When you feel the urge to post a thirst trap to get someone’s attention… You pause. You ask yourself what you’re truly longing for and you tend to that instead. And when you haven’t had a promising date in months and the apps are making you feel hopeless… You close them and take a walk. You let yourself be romanced by life instead.
When you’re constantly trying to force something or someone to be what you want, you’re not anchored. You’re in the grip of fear. But when you surrender, and relax into trust, your energy shifts, and magically, the way people experience you does, too. There’s something irresistible about a woman who isn’t chasing and who is rooted in presence. A woman who can hold herself when nothing is happening (yet).
3. Return to the Practice, Again and Again Aka: Keep Dropping Your Anchor Until It Catches
So the practice goes like this: Be clear on what you want. And then, relax.
It sounds simple. And yet, learning to soothe your own anxieties, to trust in life, and to practice patience (especially when you want love so badly) is one of the hardest things to do. That’s why you have to return to this practice again and again.
When you catch yourself contorting to fit someone else’s version of love, pause. Come back to your center. Remember where you’re dropping your anchor. When you find yourself pushing or forcing your way into someone’s life, practice non-doing. Remind yourself that you can’t force what’s meant for you. And you don’t have to—love that’s aligned will meet you.
Sometimes, you’ll feel lost at sea. Sometimes, your anchor won’t hit the ocean floor right away. And that’s okay. This step is about patience, self-trust, and the willingness to keep coming back to yourself, even when you feel unmoored.
Because every time you drop your anchor, it sinks a little deeper. And one day, without even realizing it, it catches. And you realize you’re no longer needy, no longer desperate, and no longer anxiously grasping at someone else to complete the picture. You’re living and loving and enjoying your own life, no matter who is or isn’t in it. You feel steady in yourself and rooted in what matters most to you. That’s what it means to be anchored over attached.
What’s Next in the Slow Dating Series?
I hope you enjoyed this deep dive into the slow dating principle of Anchored over Attached.
If you’re new here, this post is part of a series I’m writing on Slow Dating, which you can read more about [here]. This isn’t just a dating method, it’s a way of being.
Next week, we’ll be exploring the second principle which is Curiosity over Conquest and how to stay open, playful, and view dating as an adventure and not a game.
I love this exploration of slow dating, and I’m so glad you’re on the journey with me. Because for me, dating is always illuminating. It brings me back to the question: How can I live a more loving, joyful, and romantic life, no matter who’s in the picture?
I want to live radiantly and passionately. Not waiting for a lover to arrive, but becoming the lover I most want to be. Becoming anchored over attached has been the first part of that process and something I believe worth practicing, no matter what your dating intentions are.
I’m curious: What helps you return to your center when dating gets confusing? And what does it look like for you to be anchored over attached? I’d love to hear in the comments.
Ps. Want to begin your journey to a slower, more loving way of living? Sign up for the free 5 Days of Slow audio course here.
