"The Kind of Love I'm Learning To Hold"

"I'm learning to hold love that's rooted in truth, patient in process, and sacred enough not to settle."

I once dated someone I'll call Mr. Wise–– older, quiet, established. The kind of man who seemed like he had it all together. He pursued me, gave me attention, said all the right things...

But even in the sweetness of it all, something deep in my spirit whispered, "Be careful."

He wasn't a bad man––he just wasn't the right man for me.

Over time, his intentions slowly began to reveal themselves. The relationship he offered wasn't rooted in purpose––it was rooted in access. He didn't want my heart. He wanted my flesh. And still, I tired to ignore the red flags. I tired to hold onto hope that maybe I could be the exception.

One day, he asked me, "Do you see a future with me?"

I said yes.

Then I asked him the same question. He looked at me and said, "No."

Before that moment, he had told me I'd make a great wife to someone one day. And somehow, even then, I still stayed longer than I should have. But as I sat there––quiet, disappointed, and exposed–– I felt God say, "Get up and leave."

So I did.

My last words to him were, "Have a good day." We never spoke again.

Still, God has a way of showing up in the mess. He was there, even in the silence. In the disappointment. Even now, He continues to make space for reflection–– not just for me, but for those who mishandled me. And sometimes, He even lets them come back...not always to restore, but to reveal. To test me. To show me that He has the power to do whatever He pleases–– including healing me, growing me, and protecting me when I didn't protect myself.

That experience became a mirror... One that taught me about intentional love, standards, surrender, and the courage to be genuine–– even when it costs something.

I used to think love was supposed to just happen––some magical unfolding that didn't require too much of me.

But I'm learning that the deepest love is not accidental...

It's intentional.

It's one thing to love on purpose––to wake up every day and choose someone. But it's another thing to love with purpose––to love with vision, with meaning, with direction. I don't want love that just exist. I want love that builds.

And that means I have to know the difference between a standard vs expectation.

My standards are rooted in self-worth. They're not negotiable. They're not controlling. They're a reflection of the love I believe I deserve––the kind I also strive to give. But expectations... they're tricky. They can be hopeful or harmful depending on how they're held. Assumptions destroy intimacy. But communication? That's where alignment begins.

Love has also been teaching me the quiet difference between surrender and sacrifice. Surrender is letting go of control––not identity. Sacrifice is giving, not losing, for something greater.

Real love requires both.

Surrender makes space.

Sacrifice fills it.

And still, I wrestle with being guarded.

Because past pain taught me to protect. But I'm realizing that protection without presence is isolation. I don't want to be so guarded that I forget how to be genuine.

Genuine love requires courage––not just to be seen, but to be misunderstood and still stay rooted in truth.

Sometimes I wonder if the way I love people exposes how I view God. Because when I struggle to trust someone's intentions, it often mirrors the way I wrestle with trusting God's timing. When I withhold vulnerability, maybe it's because I've struggled to be real with God. When I'm always trying to earn someone's love, I have to ask myself–– do I really believe God's love is already mine?

My truth is:

I have questions. I don't have all the answers. But maybe that's the most honest kind of faith–– The kind that doesn't fake confidence but leans into the unknown. The kind that doesn't always feel strong but keeps showing up. I don't need to be perfect to be loved.

I just need to be present.

Open.

Genuine.

Surrendered.

And I'm still learning that love––real love–– begins right there.