As I blew out the candles on my 34th birthday, I’d still never been in a romantic relationship. It was my biggest insecurity. Most of my closest friends were paired off by now, and many had their own families, yet all I had to show was a couple good makeout sessions with my college crush. 

I’m sure many of you reading this have been here, but one of my biggest fears was that dating a girl with PMDD was too much for someone to sign up for, and I began to believe I would never find a loving partner. But I longed for companionship. Prayed for it at night through tears. Life was still full without romance—there were good friendships, family nearby, a book manuscript in the works, and meaningful hobbies—but the deepest places in my heart craved intimate connection, including physical touch. Especially on lonely nights.  

A few days after I turned 34, I passed him in the parking lot. We’ll call him “N.” A young man with blue eyes and really hot tattoos parked his motorcycle outside our local church and walked in, his thick hair overgrown with patches of gray woven throughout. 

We were attracted to each other from the start. But he was ten and a half years younger than me. WHAT, I thought, a little horrified. I’d probably never have considered the possibility of dating someone so much younger had my lifelong best friend not encouraged me to be open to it—especially since she had also dated and then married an amazing guy who was much younger than her. So, I agreed to meet N for our first date at Shady Coffee & Tea. 

Before asking me out, he read the article I’d just published about living with PMDD. That alone brought so much peace. There was no hiding now. He knew that my mental health once caused me to break a car windshield with my fist, yet still wanted to go out with me. Two months before, I’d also been diagnosed with Graves’ Disease, an autoimmune disease resulting from hyperthyroidism. I had no idea what to expect from dating and was afraid the cracks would start to show soon. But instead of running away, N remained steady and curious. He researched my health conditions in his spare time, asked how he could support me on the bad days, and surprised me by cooking an AIP-friendly dinner one night complete with home-brewed kombucha. Still, we hadn’t had all the hard conversations yet, and he’d never seen me at my worst. I was afraid it was too good to last.

After a month of dating, we made it official. It was April during what they call the “super bloom” at Folsom Lake when the fields burst into a blanket of purple lupin. Grateful, excited, and terrified all at once, at thirty-four years old, I finally had a boyfriend. And if that wasn’t weird enough, he was a twenty-three-year-old kid with prematurely graying temples. Perched on a boulder surrounded by wildflowers, we kissed as dusk settled in over the lake. 

It turns out, dating N has been deeply stabilizing, empowering me to stick to healthy rhythms (and fun!). It’s also been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. You have no idea how selfish you are until walking that close with another person. 

Some of the most beautiful moments in our relationship have been moments of vulnerability when I felt safe enough to let N into my pain. When I cried on his shoulder and he held me close after finally coming undone—in person—for the first time. We have both seen the not-so-pretty sides of each other, and he’s been honest about how difficult that can be. But, so far, it has only drawn us closer together. Next month, we start couples counseling. 

N isn’t the sensitive, artistic sort of guy I always imagined I’d end up with. He’s a left-brained former Army medic who loves mountaineering and deadlifting at the gym. But I have an inkling that two brooding, poetry-reading English majors would have been too much for this relationship. Over the last year, he has become a more compassionate listener and I hope I’ve grown to be more direct and honest. His action-oriented personality has also helped activate healthy rhythms in my life. 

Recently, I read a post in one of the PMDD support groups on Facebook written by a girl who declared she was done with relationships (including platonic friendships). My heart broke for her. It can be exhausting trying to navigate close relationships with others alongside this mood disorder. Yet I believe down in my bones that it’s possible. 

I remember when my PMDD was still a secret. Now that I have language for it, there’s less chaos, less misunderstanding, fewer feelings of shame and desperation. Instead of overwhelming every part of life, these feelings are more manageable as I’ve shared them with those I love and trust. I even write about my experience on social media although not frequently because, like any obstacle, it’s only one piece of who I am. This openness has required a lot of vulnerability. But it’s absolutely been worth it.

I don’t know what the future holds. But I’m so grateful for the chance to grow and heal through dating a good man, silencing my darkest fears that I was too broken to be loved. I know there will be more hard times ahead, but I’m ready for the challenge because I’m hopeful there is great beauty and goodness ahead, too. 

If you feel isolated in your PMDD, who is a trusted individual you could open up to this week? Connection is powerful and healing. It’s important to have at least one trustworthy person you can reach out to for support or prayer. Consider how you might create a system for sharing your experience when things get hard. Maybe it’s a phrase or a special emoji. Maybe it’s as simple as texting, “Hey, today is a bad day, and I just wanted to reach out.” If they offer to call, let them. It’s amazing how a short phone conversation can turn things around. (Even if they’re just listening to you cry.)

A writing prompt

Write about a time when you felt deeply loved by someone. Hold this memory close during the bad times. 

MEET BAILEY

Bailey is from Northern California, where she works as a freelance writer and the Marketing Copywriter at William Jessup University. She’s also a former massage therapist and loves talking about all things writing, wellness, and spiritual formation.

Follow Bailey on Instagram @bailey_bluebird and sign up for her monthly Substack letter.