I Learned Poker and Applied It to Dating—I Found Love

I spent over two decades learning hard lessons about love. Even after spending countless hours on a therapist's couch, I still felt self-doubt and regret over my abysmal choices in love, which led to two divorces before the age of 40.

Now that I know poker, I'm convinced the skills I learned could have saved me from heartbreak. In fact, I'm willing to bet on it.

Poker has been on my radar since I was a little girl, but I saw it exclusively as a game for men. My dad and brothers played, and I never knew how to ante up. The game felt elusive and out of reach. It wasn't until my early 40s that poker crept back into my life.

As a woman climbing the corporate ladder, I knew male counterparts who weren't afraid to take bold action at work, show aggression, or equivalently go "all in" with their decisions in the boardroom. And it was often rewarded. Many of these same men boasted about winning at the poker table. I felt a renewed interest in the game.

I wondered, how many women played poker? Then, a friend introduced me to Poker Power, an organization aimed at bringing more women to the game. Of the many poker players around the world, roughly 5 percent are women. I was motivated to continue.

I started reading about chance and skill in books like The Truth Detective by Alex O'Brien and Maria Konnikova's The Biggest Bluff. These women, like me, learned the game later in life. They then harnessed the transferable skills won on the felt to better understand truth, strategy, and ultimately, themselves.

As I continued playing regularly, I fell in love—the gentle hum of shuffling my chips, the rush of holding pocket aces, and the way I could change my fate by bluffing.

I felt myself becoming more comfortable taking calculated risks while building muscle memory in confidence, patience, and resilience. After so many failed relationships, the skills I wish I had in life and love were easy to come by at the poker table.

It suddenly clicked. In poker, it's not about the cards you're dealt but how you play them. After 20 years of dating and marrying the wrong men, I played my cards differently and finally ended up in a healthy relationship at age 44. Here's how poker helped me do it.

I Learned How To Read People

As a serious poker player, I find pop culture references to a "poker face" absurd. In the actual game, noticing a one-off facial tick, eyebrow lift, or movement is not the key to dominating an opponent. In fact, professional poker players study an opponent's repeated "tells" over time.

In poker, you must observe your opponents in what they do, say, don't say, how they respond, and their general mannerisms for hours—or days—to get a good read on them.

The same is true in dating. During decades of falling too fast and missing red flags in potential matches, I overlooked what was really important: patterns. Similarly to poker, in dating, it takes time to read patterns—something many people miss in a world of instant gratification.

I slowed down my dating style. I came to see that single, grand gestures were fleeting, but the men who showed up consistently over time were the ones I knew I could reliably read.

Scarcity Is a False Pretense

Perhaps, the easiest lesson, yet hardest to follow at the poker table or on a date, is knowing when to let a hand go. In Texas Hold Em, a straight or a flush are usually great hands, but you need all five cards to work in your favor.

I remember wanting so badly for my long-distance love interest to commit to visiting me regularly. I took his sporadic calls or whirlwind invites to Dubai as signs he wanted a relationship. I'd already put in months and didn't want to lose the potential for something long-term. I held on, even though I should have let him go much more quickly.

In poker, it's hard to fold what could turn into a winning hand, but it's a critical skill. Even if I've bet on the flush hitting, when it doesn't, and someone pushes me into an even bigger bet, it's time to fold. There's power in cutting my losses. In poker, I'll save my chips for the next hand, and in life, for the next date.

It's Best to Believe in Luck

I've read skill-building books from poker legends like Doyle Brunson and Daniel Negreanu. Professionals will tell you the same thing: poker is not a game of luck, it's a game of skill. But, luck still weighs heavily on the table. Pocket aces, considered the best starting hand, win the pot only 80 percent of the time. Great odds, but not a sure thing.

In dating, there are no guarantees on how many swipes or number of dates will lead to a long-term relationship. I found it best to go easy on myself when it seemed like every date was a waste of time and the men I attracted were wrong for me.

Skill in dating weighs just as heavily as it does in poker, but it's not everything. I learned to be as strategic as possible on dating apps by uploading fresh pictures of myself, blocking the creeps, and giving myself time to get to know someone. But, I still needed a healthy dose of luck to eventually meet the right person.

I Found The Courage to Ante Up Again

I know a few things to be true in poker. I shouldn't play every hand I'm dealt. I could lose a great hand to someone with a slightly better hand. I won't win every hand I play. That's true for anyone. But if I don't throw in any chips, I have a zero percent chance of winning.

I can't play every hand. Every date won't inspire the next great love story. The real trick in poker, and life, is to learn how to lose and then ante back up. I was in two horrible marriages, but I knew that if I didn't keep gambling, I was sure to lose.

In poker, and love, there are, of course, no guarantees. But, I found the same thrill in dating as I did in poker. I love the feeling of being dealt the best possible poker hand at the table, seeing people bet against me and knowing there's no way I can lose.

It's even better in dating. Sipping blueberry margaritas with the person I went all-in with even after two divorces—that's better than scooping a big pile of chips from the center of the table.

Andrea Javor is a Chicago-based marketing executive and writer working on her first novel.

All views expressed are the author's own.

Do you have a unique experience or personal story to share? See our Reader Submissions Guide and then email the My Turn team at myturn@newsweek.com.