I visited the dating doctor for my chronic singledom

Let’s get one thing out of the way. I’m a hopeless romantic. But dating in 2025—which is less like being courted by Mr. Darcy or Rabbi Noah Roklov, and more a full-blown horror story—has slowly turned me into a skeptic. From matchmakers and dating apps, to singles mixers and even meeting potential suitors based outside Mumbai, not much has changed my long-standing single status. And as I inch towards my 36th birthday in a month, that sneaky ‘woe is me’ mindset has crept in.

So when my friend suggested a ‘dating doctor’, the disappointed millennial in me was doubtful, but the writer in me was intrigued. Short of an ayahuasca ceremony in Peru, I have dabbled in everything from inner child healing and astrology, to tarot card readings, in my quest to reverse my relationship status. How different could this be?

Turns out, they weren’t suggesting a Hitch-style makeover, but a seven-week program called ‘Becoming the One’ with certified relationship and trauma recovery therapist Prachi Saxena. Rooted in science and psychology, and designed to unearth and shift the deep-seated patterns sabotaging your love life, it involves one-on-one sessions with Saxena who has spent 20 years perfecting this niche.

“I noticed a pattern in my clients—heartbreak often stemmed from fundamental errors in choosing a partner. So I decided some reverse engineering was needed,” she explains. “I created this program to proactively train people to build healthier relationships and make empowered choices, without all the trial and error.”

So, no surprise. I said yes.

Opening old wounds

It was with some trepidation that I logged onto my first call, though. Even with all her qualifications, I wondered, would Saxena really help me—or just open a Pandora’s box of baggage and leave me to deal with the fallout? In hindsight, that was just the pesky overthinker in me. Because from the very first session, I found myself having ‘aha’ moments.

By design, our opening call unpacked my first-ever relationship to build a ‘blueprint’ of the choices I’ve made since. I thought I had processed it in years of therapy, but Saxena revealed new layers. My first love—sunshine and rainbows at the start, toxic by the end—had quietly coloured how I showed up in relationships. Hello, anxious attachment style. Goodbye, any acknowledgment of my own virtues as a partner.

Before the next call, Saxena asked me to fill out three tests—MCMI-III (a personality assessment test), an attachment-style questionnaire, and the Young Schema Questionnaire (that finds unmet emotional needs as a child). Findings from which all come together to assess red flags—no, not the kind spouted by every self-proclaimed expert on Instagram—but warning signs personal to you and your dating history, the wounds you operate from, and the behaviours that trigger it.

Our deep dives revealed my dating patterns stemmed from childhood experiences steeped in seeking approval and validation, coupled with a fear of abandonment from my first relationship. And ever since, I’ve been stuck in a loop of seeking, receiving, and then fearing the loss of validation. The tests also identified a high level of emotional intelligence that makes me hyper-aware of this cycle, but simultaneously causes deep frustration at my inability to break free from it.

Why do we keep making the same mistakes, even when we know better? I asked Saxena, exasperated. “Because familiar unhealthy feels safer than unfamiliar healthy,” she explained. “We compulsively put ourselves in the same situation because we want to solve it. Until we rewire the brain with awareness and new habits, the cycle continues.” In my case, this meant attracting the same type of man: Alpha-leaning, persistent at first, but quick to vanish once I dropped my guard. And yet, I kept giving each one another chance, telling myself: “It’ll be different this time. Just once more.” Spoiler: it wasn’t.

Designing the cure

In the sessions that have followed since, we have been working on a few things: building a values map, drafting questions to ask potential partners, and creating a fine-tuned list of attributes I’m seeking—from basics to bonuses—while identifying the blocks that lead to self-sabotage. Saxena even shares a written analysis that her clients can revisit anytime. It has felt less like opening Pandora’s box, more like finally unpacking a suitcase I’d left zipped up too long after a holiday. Relief, not chaos.

“Dating should feel like fun, rather than a project,” Saxena says. “This can only happen when we proceed from the internal clarity of knowing who we are, what we want versus what we need, what is conditioning and what is a core need.”

I’ve never considered myself a damsel in distress—or a wallflower. But even so, dating has often left me feeling less than. Desperate to be chosen, even. Through our conversations, I had a shift—small on the surface, but monumental for me: I get to be the one doing the choosing too. Something women, especially in Indian societies, are not taught. We learn that the blame for not finding a partner is squarely ours: we didn’t try hard enough, we’re too rigid, we expect too much, and—my favourite—we’re “running out of time”. Never that we must be choosy about whom we commit ourselves to.

It made sense when Saxena told me 80% of participants in this program over the last four years have been high-achieving, educated, successful women still struggling with modern dating. (She also explores these themes in her book When You Give Everything All At Once.)

Her approach is pragmatic yet gentle. No, you’re not too much. No, you don’t need to dim your shine. No, you’re not asking for the moon. All the unsolicited advice that chips away at a woman’s self-worth? She shuts it down. Instead, the program gave me a recalibrated, empowered lens through which to approach dating.

There’s a scene in the final season of And Just Like That where Miranda’s girlfriend jokes about emotional baggage, and Miranda replies, “I have a room.” Don’t we all? Pop culture has conditioned us to glorify love as the act of redeeming someone else’s flaws. But why not start with ourselves? Maybe the missing piece isn’t finding someone to “fix” you—it’s learning to be your own knight in shining armour first. I, for one, am all set to put my new learnings to the test on my next date. Time to swipe right.