****This is a long one, feel free to skip to the next section for the more salacious parts****
I was in the middle of my PhD in plant genetics in a small Northeastern town when I matched with someone named Elsa on a dating app.
As for context, my PhD experience had been isolating and alienating– cold, harsh winters seemingly spent as endless days pipetting buffer and fixing an endlessly dripping HPLC and nights of writing and debugging R code.
I hadn’t had much luck in dating or sex; I seemed to be always working, drinking too much when I wasn’t, plus the cliché social awkwardness that people often associate with scientists.
I was intrigued immediately by Elsa’s profile– my first impression of her was her large intelligent and melancholy hazel eyes, full lips, and pale skin.
She had included sparse text that suggested a witty and sharp personality.
In the very best sense, she struck me as an intimidating kind of woman.
We had a lot of shit in common and found quick rapport chatting about our cynical views of dating, politics, and society at large.