Pleasure with a Price: Breaking Soul Ties & Reclaiming My Peace
- xwithlovet25
- May 3
- 5 min read
Let me be real with you.
I've had moments where I thought I was "grown" enough to handle a little sin on the side––little slip-ups here, a situationship there. And if we're being brutally honest? Sometimes I wasn't even slipping––I walked in eyes wide open like, "God, just look away real quick."
But here's what I've learned––and some times keep learning the hard way:
Sin will always sell you pleasure up front, but collet the payment in peace later.
"Soul Ties" Told Me the Truth I Pretended I Didn't Know
Have you listened to Kiddi Marv? He wasn't trying to preach, but God will use anybody. That man said the quiet part out loud: sex ties you to people––emotionally, spiritually, sometimes even mentally––long after the body parts have left the chat.
"Be careful who you connect with."
Soul ties are real. Not just poetic. Real. You can block the number and delete the photos, but why do you still feel them in your spirit when you pray? Why do they visit your dreams like uninvited houseguest?
Because you didn't just sleep with their body––you touched their soul. And they touched yours.
1 Corinthians 6:16 says it straight:
"And don't you realize that if a man joins himself to a prostitute, he becomes one body with her? For the Scriptures say, 'Two are united into one.'"
One. Not "a quick fling." Not "just physical." United into One.
Months ago, I had a moment of weakness myself. I was practicing abstinence for about 10 months before I relapsed–– clear with my intentions, boundaries intact. But there was someone I deeply believed might be my God-ordained husband. The connection was real; the spiritual pull felt undeniable. In one unguarded moment, I gave into that connection, and it convicted my spirit afterward. I wasn't trying to deceive anyone or lead someone astray. I genuinely believed that this man could be my forever. But here's what I realized: genuine feelings don't override the boundaries God sets for our protection. Sin doesn't become safer just because it feels like love. Thankfully, God's grace met me right where I stumbled, helping me reset my boundaries, renew my commitment, and deepen my understanding of why purity matters––not as punishment, but as protection.
So if you're wondering why your spirit feels off, why you're emotionally drained, or why you're still craving someone who's long gone––check the spiritual tie. You might've tried to forget them, but your soul remembers.
"Novacane" Was a Vibe...Until It Became a Warning"
Then came Frank Ocean.
Smooth. Tragic. Addictively numb.
"Love me now, when I'm gone, love me none."
Romans 1:25 puts it like this:
"They exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator."
We don't just sin. We self-soothe.
We use:
Sex to feel desired
Weed or alcohol to feel peace
Work or performance to feel worthy
Validation to feel seen
Pride, ego and nonchalant to feel powerful
Control to avoid vulnerability
And we call it "pleasure" while God is gently calling it idolatry.
Be careful what you numb yourself with.
Because sometimes, the body is indulged, but the spirit is starving. You're full of people, highs, and distractions––but you're empty of purpose. Of peace. Of divine clarity. Of joy that lasts past the morning.
Why I Chose Abstinence (Again)
Let me be clear––I don't have a long list of bodies. My count is low, and it's going to stay that way. But even with a small number, I've felt the spiritual weight of crossing lines too soon or giving a part of myself away without real covering or commitment.
It doesn't take many people to feel the pain of misplaced intimacy. It only takes one wrong connection to distract your soul.
So yes, I've fallen short. But this time...It's different.
I'm choosing abstinence––not because I'm afraid of sex––but because I finally understand its power. Because I've learned that pleasure without purpose leaves you with a kind of emptiness that even a good night's sleep can't fix.
This isn't about being holier-than-thou. It's about being honest with God and honest with myself. I'm protecting my peace. My purpose. My alignment. Because when I say "yes" again, I want it to be holy, not just hot. I want a God-ordained covenant.
This Ain't a judgement Post, It's a Mirror
I've been there. I know what it's like to:
Think sex might make you feel loved
Use connection to avoid rejection
Try to pray while still feeling spiritually sticky from the night before
Convince yourself "we're just vibing," but your soul is in full-blown warfare
It's easy to fake wholeness when you only post highlights. But healing? That takes sitting with your brokenness long enough for God to make sense of it.
This is your gentle warning.
This is your spiritual "check engine" light.
Not because God wants to shame you––but because He misses you.
Sex Is Sacred, So Is Your Soul
God isn't anti-sex. He created it. But like fire, it was meant to burn in a safe place––marriage. Outside of that, it's wildfire. unpredictable. Destructive. Beautiful until it devours everything.
The world says, "Do what feels good." But Proverbs 14:12 reminds us:
"There is a path before each person that seems right, but it ends in death."
Your flesh might say "yes." But make sure your spirit isn't silently screaming "no."
A Prayer for the Ones Who Want to Feel Again:
God, I've misused what was sacred. I've traded closeness with You for closeness with flesh. But You've always been near––even when I tried to ignore the nudge. Heal the parts of me that settled for half-love and empty highs. Restore the purity of my spirit, the clarity of my mind, and the holiness of my body. Help me desire what You designed. Teach me to wait well. And when love finds me again, let it be whole, healed, and Heaven-sent. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Final Thoughts:
You weren't made to be numb.
You weren't made to be out here soul–tied to somebody who can't even spell "accountability."
You weren't made to keep giving sacred things to people who can't pray over you, let alone stay faithful to you.
God didn't call you to be a late-night craving.
He called you to be a covenant. A covering. A chosen one.
Listen, I know it's hard. I'm walking the narrow road.
Abstinence ain't always cute. Sometimes you're minding your business, fasting, praying, and BOOM–– your old entanglement texts you "Hey stranger."
Don't fall for it. That's not your husband––that's a counterfeit trying to ruin your progress.
You're not crazy for craving connection.
You're not weak for wanting love.
But you are wise when you decide to wait well.
So stay encouraged.
Delete the number (again).
Drink your water.
Hit the gym.
Read God's Word.
and the next time your flesh starts flirting with dysfunction, just whisper:
"Not today, Satan. I rebuke the sneaky link ministry."
You were made for more––real love, real intimacy, real peace.
And when it finds you, it won't leave you feeling empty.
It'll lead you closer to God, not farther from Him.
Hold the line, sis.
God sees you.
And when He sends it––it'll be worth every lonely night, every unanswered text, and every "what are we?" conversations you didn't entertain.
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