It’s tricky, isn’t it? We’re told to be authentic, to be unapologetically ourselves and to demand others accept us or steer clear. At the same time, we hope for allure from our lovers (even a little mystery, perhaps?) and, in the realm of online dating, someone who bares all holds little appeal.

In the absence of a Discovery Timeline to offer guidance on what to reveal and when, it’s unsurprising that some of us reveal aspects of ourselves too early or too late.

Enter: the therapist.

A summer of therapy has taught me that a great love is a slow love. There’s no need to divulge every facet of yourself over the first few dates. Some conversations are better had after you’ve worked out whether you’re romantically interested in the other person. Other topics need only be discussed after you’ve shared certain experiences.

If you’re reading this thinking, “Well, yeah… obviously” then lucky you. Hopefully, you’re finding more success in dating than those of us who reveal all (too?) early on.

Before therapy, I thought showing your whole self in the first few dates was the way to find out if you were suited to each other. Turns out, this tactic is only effective if you’re both honest. I ended my previous relationship feeling empty and foolish; I had bared all, he had hidden so much.

Slowly uncovering who you are also protects you from getting hurt. I’m a romantic and hurl myself into dalliances with hopeful abandon. The problem with this approach is that it can leave you feeling vulnerable and bereft of optimism when your hope is quashed. Sharing parts of yourself step-by-step, in line with the offerings of the person you’re dating isn’t game-playing, it’s an act of self-preservation. We’re effectively saying: I’ll divulge this quirk after you’ve shown me you’re a bit weird, too.

Displaying vulnerabilities like this helps build relationships; increasing the ways others can connect with us. (“Errr, yep.” I hear you say again.) Pretending that I didn’t need anyone became a self-fulfilling prophecy…

So when I began dating my new man amid therapy, we played vulnerability tennis. One of us would serve up some information, and the other would pass it back, adding a little more oomph. We’d knock the ball back and forth, sharing parts of ourselves. Then it was time for the other to serve.

At the time, I remember talking with my therapist. We were both conscious that my new man might also be keeping some parts of himself hidden, using safe, edge-conversations to test the waters of a topic before uncovering a little more if I took the bait. This is what I was doing – was he peeling off his own layers just as slowly as I was? Yes he was, he recently told me. He didn’t want to uncover too much of himself until we became romantically involved with each other.

There’s no way of knowing if I’d be in this new relationship had I not seen my therapist. Maybe my new guy and I are more suited to each other than the other people I’ve dated or maybe we met at the right time. And while I can’t say if this will be a great love (we haven’t said “I love you” yet), it’s undoubtedly going to be magnificent.