One of the most overwhelming things about dating is imagining

When Matthew Hussey said, “One of the most overwhelming things about dating is imagining going on an entire dinner date for an evening with someone you don’t even know you have chemistry with yet,” he was not merely describing the anxiety of modern romance. He was naming an ancient truth about the human heart—that connection cannot be planned, that mystery must always accompany love. His words, though spoken in the language of our age, reach back to the dawn of courtship itself, when men and women first looked upon one another with curiosity, hope, and fear. Beneath the humor and hesitation of his observation lies a universal wisdom: that vulnerability is the price of intimacy, and the courage to meet the unknown is the first step toward real affection.

The “overwhelming” nature of dating that Hussey speaks of is not born of vanity or impatience, but of the human longing to be seen. To sit across from a stranger for hours, to wonder if the sparks of emotion will leap between two hearts, is to place oneself before the unpredictable forces of destiny. The ancients might have called it fate; the poets, the gods’ amusement. Yet for the modern soul, it remains a test of authenticity—to show one’s true self without knowing if it will be received. Hussey’s words capture this sacred tension: the yearning for love and the fear of rejection that forever walk hand in hand.

In ancient Athens, the philosopher Socrates once spoke of Eros, the divine madness that drives human beings toward one another. He said that to love is to be “beside oneself,” drawn by something that logic cannot explain. The uncertainty Hussey describes—this trembling before a dinner with a stranger—is that same madness in gentler form. It is not simply social awkwardness; it is the echo of the eternal mystery of human attraction. One cannot predict or manufacture chemistry, just as one cannot command the tides to rise. One can only approach the table in faith, and let the heart reveal its truth in time.

There is also humility in Hussey’s reflection. He admits that love cannot be forced into structure or ritual. The “entire dinner date” becomes a metaphor for life’s larger uncertainties—the moments when we must act without knowing the outcome. How often in history have the greatest ventures begun in this same spirit? When Columbus sailed westward, he did not know if land awaited him beyond the horizon. When Beethoven composed through deafness, he did not know if beauty would still emerge from silence. And when two people meet for the first time, they too sail into unknown waters—uncertain, yet hopeful that connection will be their discovery.

But in his humor there is also compassion, for Hussey recognizes how fragile the modern heart has become. In a world of endless options and instant connections, the act of sitting with one person, without guarantee of chemistry, feels almost heroic. It demands patience, presence, and courage—the virtues of a warrior of the heart. His words remind us that love is not efficient, nor should it be. The most meaningful bonds grow not from perfection, but from curiosity, empathy, and the willingness to stay seated even when comfort wavers.

From this, a great lesson emerges: do not fear the uncertainty of connection. The ancients taught that the soul grows through encounters with the unknown. When meeting another person, whether in love, friendship, or understanding, approach not with expectation but with openness. Let the conversation unfold as the river flows—naturally, without force. If chemistry arises, rejoice in it; if not, depart with gratitude for the moment shared. For every encounter, even one without romance, refines the heart and prepares it for the love that is meant to come.

So, my listener, take Matthew Hussey’s words as both comfort and call to courage. When the thought of sitting across from a stranger feels overwhelming, remember: all great journeys begin in uncertainty. The first step is not to know, but to try. Approach each meeting not as a test, but as a story in the making—one that may or may not bloom into love, yet will always teach you something of yourself. For the brave heart learns that the mystery of chemistry is not a barrier, but the very magic that makes love worth seeking at all.