I never anticipated that my search for love in my 40s would lead me straight to the world of reality television. Yet, there I was, staring at an Instagram direct message from a close friend that simply stated: "This show sounds perfect for you." She had tagged me in a casting call for "Kings Court," a brand-new series scheduled to premiere on Bravo TV and Peacock. My initial reaction was to laugh out loud. As a dedicated doctor, I am accustomed to saving lives, not competing for romantic declarations on prime-time television. However, after enduring years of grueling hospital shifts, well-intentioned advice from friends, and dating apps that felt more like an obstacle course than a pathway to romance, I confronted a quieter truth: professional success had not simplified my dating life. Instead, it had rendered it profoundly lonelier. So, I did not delete the message. I sat with it, pondered its implications, and eventually, I clicked on the link.
The Reality of Dating as a Successful Black Woman in Her 40s
Dating in my 40s as an accomplished Black woman is not what many might imagine. From an external perspective, it appears to be filled with endless options. Internally, however, it often feels like a profound silence. Between 12-hour workdays, raising my son, and building a life I am deeply proud of, my time and energy were stretched incredibly thin. What truly surprised me was not merely the scarcity of time, but how my achievements seemed to narrow the dating pool significantly.
Growing Up with the Pressure to Perform
As a young girl, I grew up under immense pressure to perform exceptionally well. This experience is not unique to me—it is a reality shared by many Black and brown girls. I understood from an early age that my actions and identity did not just reflect on me personally; they reflected on my household, my community, and the generations that preceded me. Excellence was not optional; it was an expectation. Beneath that expectation, an unspoken question took root: If I must be twice as good to be seen, what will it take to be chosen?
I observed so many of my aunties, elders, and mother figures navigating life independently—strong, brilliant, resilient, yet unchosen. If no one was choosing these extraordinary women, what did that signify for my own prospects? Although I was raised to believe that God loved me and I was already chosen, regardless of adversity, I internalized another message: I had to earn love and acceptance through my efforts.
Seeking Authentic Connection
I was not searching for someone to complete me. I desired a partner who could genuinely meet me where I was—someone capable of standing beside me without requiring me to diminish myself. I longed for someone who understood that being loved should not necessitate shrinking to fit another person's comfort zone.
Stepping onto the Reality TV Set
When I first walked onto the set of "Kings Court," I felt a nervousness that caught me off guard. Everything was novel: being on camera, sharing intimate aspects of myself with the potential of millions watching. My faith in God and the confidence I hold in my unique story grounded me throughout the experience. I naturally gravitated toward kindness—the production team was incredibly supportive, and several women in the cast were true "girls' girls." We shared immense fun both behind and in front of the camera, cheering each other on and avoiding unnecessary drama.
As the cameras rolled, I found myself simply being me. I did not feel I had anything to hide, but I did have something precious to protect: my heart and my sense of self-worth. I allowed my emotions to unfold in real time. Getting to know my love interest involved moments of frustration and confusion, which viewers witnessed on-screen. There were also tender, heartfelt moments, deep conversations about our lives, and open dreaming about a potential future together.
The Intensity of the Experience
All the ups and downs I had experienced over years of dating were compressed into an intense three-week journey. Living with someone 24/7 accelerated the process of learning crucial aspects of their character. I was astonished by how much I enjoyed being on camera—not for the attention, but for the creative rush it provided. The storytelling, reflection, and awareness of viewing my own life from a fresh perspective ignited something within me. I left the show with a genuine interest in the film world that continues to excite me to this day.
I entered "Kings Court" in the final round of introductions as my love interest's "perfect match," according to a professional matchmaker. The stakes felt incredibly high. However, once I sensed a genuine connection forming, everyone else faded into the background. I was not preoccupied with competition; I believed that if something was meant to be, we would leave the show together.
Surprises and Challenges
There were also surprises in the process that were not particularly romantic or exhilarating. Living in a house with 15 other women and three bachelors was challenging. We were all established adults, accustomed to our own space and routines. Sharing bathrooms, squeezing in sleep, and getting dressed for dates with dozens of eyes and ears nearby was overwhelming. Yet, I leaned into the absurdity, recognizing that such an opportunity might never arise again.
A Shift Toward Honesty and Vulnerability
As filming progressed, something significant shifted within me: I realized I had nothing to lose by being completely honest. If I was truthful and vulnerable, my potential match would see the real me, and if he chose me, it would be with eyes wide open. Conversely, if he did not, that would tell its own story. I let him see my world—my life as a single mother, the intensity of my medical career, and the pain and healing following intimate partner violence. I was not afraid to have fun or let my guard down either. I showed up more fully than I ever had in my dating life, making the experience profoundly worthwhile.
A Defining Moment
One moment stands out vividly: when he remarked that I seemed "too polished," as if he was not seeing the authentic me. I responded gently but firmly, "This is me." Reality TV or not, I knew I did not need to perform to be chosen. I am not everyone's cup of tea, but the right person will appreciate my aroma, temperature, and flavor without attempting to alter me.
From Skepticism to Hopeful Participation
Before the show, I mostly rolled my eyes at reality dating series. Yet, I am also a hopeless romantic, drawn to stories that leave you feeling warm inside, like Lauren and Cameron from "Love Is Blind" Season 1. Their vulnerability and willingness to defy conventional dating rules resonated deeply with me. I yearned for a love narrative that liberated me from societal expectations as well.
Prior to this process, I was both skeptical and curious. However, I am in a season of life where I am willing to try new things, stretch myself, and take risks. My career caring for children with serious illnesses has taught me that life is short. I do not want to miss anything meant for me, even if it arrives in an unconventional package.
Navigating Imperfections and Growth
The reality dating show experience was not perfect. There were catty dynamics with some women that did not align with my approach to friendships. I did not allow those interactions to define my experience; instead, I viewed them as opportunities for growth. I let negative energy roll off me like water off a duck's back. Overall, being on the show exceeded every expectation. I had fun, took pride in how I carried myself and was portrayed, and gained clarity about what I need and deserve in a partnership. I grew in self-esteem, in my ability to prioritize my heart's desires amid a demanding life, and in my sense of worthiness in romantic love.
Support and Public Commentary
My friends and family were incredibly excited for me. Having witnessed the highs and lows of my dating journey, they genuinely wanted me to succeed. Those familiar with reality TV warned me about public commentary, but nothing could have fully prepared me for it. What I have learned on the other side is simple: not everyone will like you, and people will always create their own narratives. Let them talk. None of that determines who you are or what you will achieve. I am grateful for the thicker skin I have developed and the steadier sense of self that has emerged.
And yes, I formed a powerful love connection that was meaningful at the time. I let myself be seen, and someone saw me. Sometimes, that alone is enough to transform you.
Embracing Self-Choice and Wholeness
I did not walk away with a fairytale ending; I left with something more honest—a reminder that love at this stage of life is not about fixing what is missing. It is about being fully seen, even when the world believes it already knows who you are.
For much of my life, I waited to be chosen. I carried that quiet ache—passed down through generations of women who bore everything except the certainty of romantic partnership. But somewhere along this journey, I realized something radical: I can choose myself.
I have spent years caring for others, building a career, and showing up strong. Saying yes to dating on a reality show was my way of choosing softness as well. Whether love finds me on national television or over a quiet cup of coffee, I now know it will find me exactly as I am—whole, grounded, and chosen by me first.
