Have you ever been on a perfectly normal date when one tiny moment suddenly tells you way more about what you're looking for than you expected?
For me, apparently, that moment involved...
BOBA.
Yep.
Meet Traditional Ted.
Points for Initiative
I met Ted through Mutual, an LDS dating app.
We messaged back and forth for a little while, and instead of dragging out the small talk for days, he pretty quickly asked me on a date.
And honestly?
I liked that.
There was something refreshing about a guy who was willing to be direct.
No endless “Hey, how was your day?” messages.
No talking for three weeks while neither person actually suggests meeting.
He was interested. He asked me out. We made plans.
Okay, Ted. Points for initiative.
Then He Got Out of the Car
The night of our date, I got ready and waited for him to pick me up.
Then this really nice car pulled up.
I remember thinking:
Okayyy...
And then he got out.
And my heart sank a little.
He was shorter than me.
I'm about 5'6", and I've learned that I'm personally more attracted to men who are taller than I am.
There was absolutely nothing wrong with him being shorter.
He was nice, respectful, and a complete gentleman.
But attraction isn't something I can reason myself into.
Almost immediately, I could feel that little romantic spark I'd hoped for fading.
Still, I wanted to give the date a fair chance.
After all... height doesn't tell you who someone is.
Of Course We Went Mini Golfing
So off we went to play...
mini golf.
Apparently, if you're a man planning a first date, there is an unwritten rule somewhere that says:
When in doubt, take her mini golfing.
The date was fine.
We talked. Played mini golf. And he was perfectly nice.
There wasn't some horrible moment or glaring red flag.
I just wasn't feeling much of a connection.
Afterward, he asked if I wanted to get a treat.
Now THIS was a question I had an answer to.
Boba.
I love boba.
And Then Came the Boba
Ted told me he'd never tried it before, but he agreed that we could go.
And suddenly I thought:
Oh, fun! He can try boba!
We got there, and before ordering an entire drink, he asked if he could try some first.
Fair enough.
But then he looked at the boba.
And kept looking at it.
He brought it toward his mouth while staring at it like I'd just handed him a cup full of mysterious frog eggs.
His face started looking increasingly disgusted.
Finally, I told him:
“You don't have to try it if you don't want to.”
And...
he didn't.
He ended up getting a soda instead.
There I sat drinking my beloved boba while Ted drank his soda, and I remember feeling strangely disappointed.
Which sounds ridiculous.
Halaina. It's a tapioca pearl. Calm down.
But as we kept talking, I realized:
It wasn't actually about the boba.
Then He Said He Didn't Like Change
Somewhere in the conversation, Ted told me that he really didn't like change.
And that caught my attention.
The funny thing is, I understood where he was coming from.
There had been a time in my own life when I struggled with change and trying new things.
I liked what was familiar.
Familiar was comfortable.
Comfortable felt safe.
But I'd worked really hard to push myself outside of that.
Over time, I discovered that I actually loved adventure.
I loved being spontaneous.
Discovering new places. Trying new foods. Traveling. Learning. Changing.
Becoming someone I hadn't been before.
Growth had become important to me.
So when Ted told me he didn't like change, suddenly that silly little boba moment felt different.
The Boba Test
It wasn't that my future husband needed to love boba.
Honestly, he could hate it.
But I wanted someone who would at least look at the weird little tapioca ball and think:
Sure. Why not? Let's try it.
Someone curious.
Someone willing to be uncomfortable sometimes.
Someone who could say:
I've never done that before...let's see what happens.
Because I realized I didn't want to spend my life trying to convince someone to experience it with me.
That tiny moment helped me put words to something I hadn't really understood before:
I wanted openness in my future partner.
Openness to new experiences.
Openness to adventure.
And maybe most importantly... openness to growth.
He Wasn't Wrong. He Just Wasn't My Match.
Ted eventually asked me on a second date.
I kindly told him no.
There wasn't anything terribly wrong with him.
He was direct. Respectful. And treated me well.
We simply weren't a match.
And that's one thing dating has slowly taught me:
Someone doesn't have to be a bad person for them to be the wrong person for you.
Sometimes a date doesn't reveal some giant red flag.
Sometimes it simply teaches you something new about yourself.
Traditional Ted helped me realize I wanted someone who didn't just tolerate change...
but was willing to embrace some of it with me.
So...Did He Pass the Boba Test?
Apparently, I walked away from that date with one very unofficial dating question:
Will he pass the Boba Test?
Not:
“Does he like boba?”
But:
“Is he willing to try it?”
Because sometimes it's not really about what's in the cup.
It's about whether you're willing to take a sip.
What's your version of the Boba Test?
Have you ever had one tiny moment on a date reveal something much bigger about what you wanted in a relationship?
I'd love to hear yours. ❤️
Traditional Ted wasn't a bad date.
He wasn't even really a bad match on paper.
But that one little date helped me understand something I hadn't known how to name before.
I don't just want someone to come along for the life I'm building.
I want someone who's curious enough to experience it with me.
And apparently... sometimes dating lessons come with tapioca pearls. 🧋
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