This Is It, I’m Just Me

Six years, countless memories, and a connection that never quite fit a label. After nearly two years apart, one Grindr message on August 22, 2026 brought us back together. We’ve both changed, but somehow the chemistry is still there. Maybe we’ll connect again. Maybe we won’t. You never know what the future holds.

They look confident. They work out. They take charge. They might run the show all day long… but behind closed doors? Some of them are ready to get on their knees and hand over the reins.

In this spicy and hilarious chapter, I explore a pattern I’ve noticed throughout years of dating and hookups: the supposedly dominant men who eventually reveal their submissive side. From online dating overshares and accidental BDSM interviews to discovering the difference between a little bedroom spice and someone looking for a full-time Domme, I ask one very important question: Can a girl in her softer woman era just find a romantic relationship with a little spice in the fucking bedroom? Apparently, the submissive bottoms of Bottawa have other ideas. 😂🔥

Dating as a trans woman isn’t simply about finding someone who’s attracted to you. It’s navigating chasers, DL men, married men, couples, fetishization, secrecy, labels, sex, and a dating pool where words don’t always match actions. In this chapter, I talk about the realities of dating men in Ottawa, the statistics behind trans dating and relationship stigma, and why I’m still searching for something real after years of disappointment. I’m not looking for breadcrumbs. I’m looking for the whole loaf.

If you Google Lana Poulson, you’re going to find quite a bit — articles, photographs, videos, podcasts, advocacy, art and pieces of a life lived publicly.

But finding someone isn’t the same as knowing them.

In this deeply personal chapter, I explore privacy, social media, growing older, ending friendships, changing opinions, past mistakes and the strange reality of having pieces of your life permanently searchable.

I also reflect on my photography project with Ruth Dick, the unexpected ways that work touched a cancer survivor and a mother of a trans daughter, and the humbling experience of being told that my own visibility has inspired others to transition and live more authentically.

Maybe you don’t need to be famous to leave a mark.

Maybe sometimes one person’s story is enough to change another person’s life.

You can Google me. But you don’t know me from Google.

Cancer doesn’t just affect the person who receives the diagnosis—it can change an entire family.

In this deeply personal chapter, I explore what it’s like to have watched cancer affect multiple generations of my family: losing my cousin to breast cancer and my aunt and godmother to pancreatic cancer, seeing two uncles survive prostate cancer, my maternal uncle undergo surgery for colon cancer, and watching my father continue his battle with lymphoma.

I talk about the impact cancer can have on families, children and caregivers, the reality of treatment and “chemo brain,” and how watching the people you love face cancer has changed my own perspective on treatment, quality of life and mortality.

I also share my spiritual perspective on death and why I don’t believe death has to be something we fear.

Because cancer may enter one person’s body—but its impact can reach an entire family.

Grindr is one of the easiest dating apps to actually connect on—no endless swiping, no waiting for a match, just people nearby and the ability to start a conversation. But that accessibility comes with another side.

In this episode of This Is It, I’m Just Me, I take an honest look at Grindr from the good, the bad and the downright ugly: hookups, dating, friendship, love, catfishing, stolen photos, harassment, transphobia, obsession, rejection and unwanted contact.

As a trans woman, I also explore why Grindr can sometimes make it easier to find men attracted to trans women, while also creating its own complications. I look at Canadian research into queer adults and dating apps, and most importantly, the role boundaries play in online dating.

Because attraction doesn’t give anyone ownership of another person. “No” is an answer. “Don’t call me” is a boundary. And when someone repeatedly crosses that line, it’s time to pay attention.

Grindr isn’t automatically good or bad. Some people find hookups. Some find friendships. Some find love. But whatever you’re looking for, you deserve to feel safe, respected and heard.

Extra reading:
• Grindr Safety & Privacy Resources
• Pew Research Center: Online Dating & LGBTQ+ Experiences
• Canadian research on queer adults and dating apps
• Australian Institute of Criminology: Dating-App-Facilitated Sexual Violence
• Research on trans women’s experiences of Grindr

Content note: This episode discusses harassment, stalking, transphobia, sexual violence, threats and unwanted contact.

After decades of dating, I have learned that words can be beautiful—but they aren’t always evidence. From the disappearing “good morning gorgeous” to promises to call that never become phone calls, I explore what happens when the excitement of early dating fades and you’re left looking at someone’s actual behaviour.

Blending personal experience with current psychology and reflections on how dating has changed from the pre-texting 1990s to today’s apps, FaceTime and endless messaging, I talk about what trust, authenticity and genuine communication really look like. Because words can tell you what someone wants you to know—but eventually, believing means seeing it with your own two eyes.

We’ve been taught that being single means something is missing — but does it?

In this chapter of This Is It, I’m Just Me, I explore singlehood, relationships, loneliness, and the changing ways people around the world seek connection.

From changing attitudes toward marriage and living alone to Japan’s companion robots and the growing role of AI, we look at what happens when people want connection but can’t always find it through another human being.

Because your relationship status does not determine your worth.

Sometimes the greatest flex is knowing you can stand on your own — while still leaving room for someone who deserves a place beside you.

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Sources & Further Reading

This chapter draws on research about loneliness, living arrangements, relationships, mental-health access, social robots, and AI companionship.

• World Health Organization — Social Connection, Social Isolation and Loneliness

• Statistics Canada — One-person households and Canadian household trends

• Statistics Finland — People living alone and household statistics

• Pew Research Center — Loneliness and social connections in the United States

• OECD Family Database — Marriage, divorce, cohabitation and changing family structures

Additional research was also consulted on Japan’s aging population, social robots, AI companionship, and artificial forms of intimacy.

The research in these areas is continually evolving. Some AI-companionship research is still emerging and should be viewed as early evidence rather than settled conclusions.

For anyone interested in exploring the statistics further, the organizations above are a great place to start — and, of course, you can always Google the topics and explore the research for yourself.

Sometimes the people we grew up with become the people we no longer recognize. In this chapter, I explore sibling fallouts, resentment, aging parents, family expectations, caregiving, addiction and recovery, emotional exhaustion, and the difficult decision to step away from a sibling relationship. Because sharing blood doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice your peace—and sometimes loving someone means accepting that you can’t save them, change their choices, or continue being part of the cycle.

In this deeply personal episode, I talk about where I’ve been, why the podcast has been quieter, and the unexpected shift happening in my life. After years of being visible, performing, creating, and sharing so much of myself publicly, I’m learning what it means to live a slower, softer, more peaceful life.

This isn’t a goodbye. It’s a reflection. It’s about burnout, depression, grief, healing, letting go of expectations, the realities of pet ownership, and discovering that a meaningful life doesn’t always have to be a loud one.

Thank you for being here with me.