From Healing Alone to Being Loved Right

Let’s be real…

My single season was something I fought against my entire life.

I was scared to be alone. Who was going to protect me? Care for me? Provide for me?

I didn’t want to accept that no one was coming to save me…especially when I didn’t even understand what I needed saving from.

The truth? I never felt safe enough. Not fully. Not deeply.

And even though I was independent—self-sufficient, handling everything on my own—something in me still felt… unsettled.

Which is interesting, because I actually love being alone.

I’m an introvert. I enjoy solitude. I always have.

I love the quiet. The peace.

No yelling.
No chaos.
No one rushing me or telling me what to do.

So why was I so afraid of it?

Because being alone meant being face to face with the parts of me I had been avoiding.

The thoughts that told me I wasn’t enough. That I was alone. That I didn’t matter.

The kind of thoughts that go deeper than people realize…the kind you don’t always say out loud.

And then life forced me to stop running. COVID changed everything.

There was so much loss—the death of people I loved, the death of my dream of what life was supposed to look like, even the loss of a version of myself I thought I had to be.

So there I was… single. And for the first time, I couldn’t distract myself from it. Grief came knocking again.

And this time… I didn’t run. I let her in. And what I found surprised me.

Grief wasn’t harsh—she was gentle. She made space for me.

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t have to be strong.

I just had to be honest.

And God met me there.

In the crying.
In the journaling.
In the quiet moments where I didn’t even have the right words.

He showed me that grief wasn’t something to avoid…it was something He allows.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted…”

Even Jesus wept. Day by day, I started learning how to take care of myself.

Some days I cried.
Some days I laughed.
Some days I did both in the same hour.

But slowly… something began to shift.

Grief started pulling up things that had been buried for years—pain, shame, hurt.

And in that same space…God began planting something new.

I started showing up for myself differently.

I forgave.
I healed.
I learned how to be whole… on my own.

And I also learned this:

I didn’t have to settle.

Whoever came into my life would have to love my son as deeply as I do.

But even deeper than that…

God showed me something I wasn’t ready to admit.

Somewhere along the way, marriage had become an idol. I had given it too much weight.
Too much meaning.

I was expecting it to give me things only God was meant to be in my life.

So I had to surrender it.

Not because marriage is wrong—but because I had made it too important.

I had to remember who I was.

Not someone’s future wife…but God’s daughter.

And that changed everything.

Because marriage is a gift.

But it was never meant to define me.

So I let go of the weight I had placed on it.

And for the first time…my desire no longer had control over my identity.

God didn’t want a part of my heart.

He wanted all of it.

And maybe if you’re in a season where you’re longing for love…
God isn’t withholding it from you—
He’s just asking for your whole heart first.