I think the more you're dating, the more you're likely to meet

The words of Amelia Dimoldenberg—“I think the more you’re dating, the more you’re likely to meet someone, just statistically. Also, if you feel rejected, don’t think it’s about you. Often it’s not about you, it’s about them. Be resilient, as well”—carry within them both practical wisdom and the timeless courage of the human heart. Beneath their gentle tone lies a truth that has echoed through centuries: that love, like life itself, is not a matter of destiny alone, but of persistence, patience, and strength of spirit. In these words, Dimoldenberg reminds us that while the search for connection may wound us at times, it also shapes us—that each rejection, each disappointment, is not a defeat, but part of the sacred journey toward understanding both others and ourselves.

To say that “the more you’re dating, the more you’re likely to meet someone” is to acknowledge the law of effort and perseverance, which the ancients held as sacred. The philosopher Aristotle taught that excellence is not born of chance, but of repeated action—that one becomes virtuous by practicing virtue, courageous by performing acts of courage. So it is with love. To meet others, to open one’s heart again and again, is an act of both courage and discipline. In a world that often teaches people to guard themselves against vulnerability, Dimoldenberg’s words ring like a call to action: do not retreat into fear or cynicism, but step forward once more. For even love, in its mystery, bends to the rule that effort multiplies opportunity.

Yet her wisdom deepens in the next breath: “If you feel rejected, don’t think it’s about you. Often it’s not about you, it’s about them.” Here lies one of life’s hardest lessons—the art of not taking pain personally. From youth to age, the human heart longs for acceptance, and when it is denied, we turn inward, asking what flaw or failure made us unworthy. But rejection, more often than not, speaks not of unworthiness, but of misalignment. The wise understand that each person carries their own unseen burdens, fears, and desires, which shape their choices. To be rejected is not to be diminished; it is simply to be redirected. The ancient Stoics, such as Epictetus, taught this with steadfast clarity: “It is not what happens to you, but how you respond to it, that matters.”

Consider the story of Abraham Lincoln, who faced countless rejections before his rise to leadership. He failed in business, lost elections, and suffered personal heartbreaks. Yet, with every setback, he grew more patient, more grounded, and more compassionate. He understood that each “no” was not a verdict on his worth, but a lesson shaping his strength. His life was a living embodiment of what Dimoldenberg calls us to practice—resilience. For resilience is not simply endurance; it is the quiet, stubborn faith that the heart, though wounded, can heal and love again.

To be resilient is to remember that rejection, like rain, nourishes growth. Each encounter, even the painful ones, refines your understanding of what you truly seek. It teaches discernment, humility, and grace. In love, as in all endeavors, one must learn to rise after each fall, to rebuild after each loss. The ancients would call this fortitudo—the strength of spirit that stands firm when the world trembles. To live without resilience is to let the storms of life uproot you; to live with it is to let those same storms deepen your roots.

Dimoldenberg’s wisdom is not only about dating—it is a reflection of the human condition itself. For all of life’s pursuits, whether love, art, or purpose, require this delicate balance of action and acceptance: we must seek boldly, yet detach gracefully from what is not meant for us. The one who stops seeking out of fear of rejection stops living fully. But the one who learns to meet rejection with curiosity and compassion—both for themselves and others—transforms pain into wisdom. In that transformation lies freedom, and the heart’s quiet triumph.

So let this teaching be written in the hearts of all who hear it: do not fear the effort, and do not fear the fall. Keep showing up to life with open eyes and an open heart. For each encounter, whether it brings joy or sorrow, is a step toward wholeness. Remember that rejection is not your mirror—it is another’s moment, another’s choice, often shaped by things you cannot see. And above all, be resilient. Rise again. Keep moving forward. For love, like destiny, favors the ones who remain open, the ones who refuse to let fear close the doors of the soul.

Thus, the lesson stands eternal: to find connection, one must dare often, forgive quickly, and endure faithfully. Let rejection teach you courage, not shame. Let effort remind you that every act of reaching out is an act of hope. And when you are weary, remember the quiet strength of these words: it is not the perfect heart that finds love—it is the resilient one, still willing to try.