I went to the gym and seen a free book nook and the nerd in me couldn’t resist. Someone had donated Single. On Purpose. by John Kim, along with the workbook. This was a book that I’d had on a very long list and never got around to purchasing. I decided to read a few pages while on the stairmaster and I could not get through the first five pages before making notes. The things that began to surface inside of me were deeper than just being single.

The first thought that occured to me was how we feel so defeated when we get put in a position to start over. Suddenly we cannot visualize past the situation we’re currently in and we begin to wonder if there is something wrong with us. However, what if the restart has nothing to do with something being wrong with who you are, but everything to do with you needing to sit in a season of reflection. Maybe you aren’t starting over at all. Maybe you’re in a new season that’s forcing you to be resilient and understand that different battles require different weapons. So it isn’t that you are defective, maybe the weapon you have been using in other seasons is just too dull for the next chapter.

Maybe you are so caught up in the feeling of defeat that you are about to miss a very valuable lesson. I recently was in a situation that was triggering and took me back to a place that I dread. I felt like it was finally my time and and that I’d overcame the dark days. However, to my surprise, I was about to experience a dark day yet again. I did my best to avoid what I had felt by becoming weak in my flesh, but eventually I faced a still moment and had no otion but to face it.

I thought about this version of me that tends to surface when my heart is broken and I can’t say I neccesarily love that version of myself. As I reflected, I realize when this version of me tends to surface the most. It’s usually when I attempt to supress a different part of me because of what others say. If I hadn’t had to start over yet again, I probably would’ve never found this out about myself.

For a moment I thought, maybe this is a version of myself I’ll struggle with to the grave. Then I thought, the issue isn’t that this is just who I am. The issue is my weapon of choice. I use supression as a weapon, I ignore that version of me in attempts to lock her out, but one day the lock breaks and everything that I attemtempted to supress out of fear comes forcing its way out all at once. However, I found that in suppressing that version of myself, I was forced to battle alone.

God never said that I had to be perfect, just that I seek him in my imperfect seasons. The more we surpress things, the stronger they are when they finally push back. The harder they are to fight off. But, in being honest about the things I struggle with, I make room for God. Then I begin to seek him because instead of fighting, I feel his presence and I’m reminded that the battle is not mine alone. I realized that in seeking him when in that dark space, someday that version of me would fall off. Then suddenly I have the strength to live, instead of just survive.

Now imagine where I’d be stuck if I never started over.

Often times I find myself identifying as a “lover girl”, I’m talking through and through. While I believe this to be true based on my experiences with love, my experiences have taught me that not all people are lovers and not all people know how to love like me. I used to describe love as a “gift” that I posses. However, wisdom has taught me that love is not a gift. Love is a fruit of the spirit. I have a heart that has been shaped by God.

My experiences with love have taught me what it means for God to work things for our good. I don’t believe that it was necessary for me to go through so many negative experiences in order to cultivate space for love to grow ( those experiences we’re a choice) , but I do believe that God chose not to let those experiences be wasted. In my seasons of disappointment, betrayal, and what felt like a broken heart — I’ve found that my pain has taught me discernment, not just desire.

Not the discernment that I’d hope for, which was to be able to pick the perfect person — It taught me about Provers 4:23 — the heart as the source from which life flows; and Jeremiah 17:9–10 — the hearts vulnerability and its potential to be deceitful because pain, desire, fear, and longing have the potential to distort our perception. God bless my heart.

I’ve come to realize that what so many people described as me “strict” was just my discernment. Even after those experiences, I never closed my heart to love. However, I refused to live in delusion when all the evidence was in front of me. Living in reality with someone, no matter how tough it is, allows you to see them for who they are and not for who you desire them to be. It makes for a love that is genuine and not contingent on hope. A heart that is guarded, does not equate to a heart that is hardened.

I know this because my heavily guarded heart, has recently allowed someone in. As I reflect on this new love, I realize just how impossible it is to please people on the outside looking in. The world says I’m delusional if my discernment tells me to walk away from people I know are out of alignment, but the world also says I’m delusional because my love isn’t situational.

I’ll be honest, recently I’ve found myself asking the question of whether this love is realistic and sensible. I found the answer to be yes. I’ve found a love that is rooted in wisdom, peace, truth and evidence of alignment. Not a love that is based on potential and desire.

I’d be a liar if I said my flesh doesn’t try to convince me otherwise. However, I’ve found that a love that is spiritual has the ability to surpass anything the flesh tries to come up against. A spiritual love is intentional, reflective, and prayerful. The world says that this love is incomplete because it doesn’t look the way that they believe, but I don’t live to please the world.

So Dear reader, a heavily guarded heart is not hardened. It is protected by God.

We often think of isolation as a season meant to separate us from people — a time of loneliness and loss. But what if it’s really meant to bring us closer to God? At some point, we all enter a season of isolation. Sometimes it comes with great loss, and at first, it hurts. But if we lean into God during this time, removing our focus from worldly distractions, we begin to see that what felt like loss was really preparation.

In my own season of isolation, I learned that isolation doesn’t mean the people we lose along the way were bad. It simply means they were on their own journey. Their lessons in that season looked different, so their route was different, and the GPS landed us in different places and that’s okay. During these seasons, I’ve had to learn to give grace because I needed it myself. I’ve learned not to chase people who are in a season of isolation — God may be pulling them away for a reason. Chasing them makes it easier to take things personally, but sometimes we’re the crutch, or the rug that needs to be pulled, so they can stand on their own two feet and grow stronger.

Neon Adejo sings, “Anything that hinders me from You, God take it away.” Even the good things sometimes have to go so that we — or the people around us — can learn resilience and dependence on God. Robert Greene, in The Four Agreements, reminds us: “Don’t take anything personally. Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality.” People stepping away isn’t always about anger or hurt; sometimes it’s about needing silence to hear from God, or space to process what they’re learning in isolation. If I haven’t learned anything, I’ve learned that it’s impossible to entertain the world and walk in the favor God has for you at the same time.

Some days, people in these seasons may be hot and cold, on and off, and it’s not intentional. They’re struggling with who they were and who they’re becoming. Eventually, we realize not everyone can come with us, and that’s okay. The people, places, and things that drift away have served their purpose. They may not have served us the way we wanted, but God worked it for our good. They served the purpose that God intended for us. As Scripture reminds us in Romans 8:28:

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

Look over your life. Have you ever been in a season of isolation? It probably wasn’t pretty. People may have said things, judged, or misunderstood — but God was working all along. And even in the mess, He was shaping you, teaching you to give grace, and preparing you for the next season.

So, dear reader, whether you’re in a season of isolation or watching someone you love go through it, consider GRACE. Trust God’s timing, let go of what no longer serves, and remember . . . every pause, every distance, is part of His preparation. Silence the world and LISTEN.

First, I want to thank God for walking with me through the valley as I struggled to understand the difference between who I thought I was and who He created me to be. When I first received the vision to start this blog, I was 23, working as a Teacher’s Assistant while pursuing my degree in Early Childhood Education. I was also new to building my own relationship with God. It was a season of sacrifice, confusion, and anxiousness. God gave me a vision, but I had plans of my own — plans rooted more in financial gain than passion.

Jeremiah 23:16 says, “They speak a vision of their own heart, and not out of the mouth of the Lord.” I’ve learned that sometimes visions come from our own imaginations, and sometimes they’re shaped by deceptive influences like comparison. I would scroll through social media and see content creators and women in the beauty industry sharing their lavish lives online, and I’d think, “I can do that too.” And I was right — I could. I can do anything I set my mind to. But I eventually learned that I don’t want to do content. I don’t want to make wigs for hundreds of people, install wigs, do nails, or do lashes. Those were things I enjoyed doing for myself. They were part of my self-care, and I didn’t care to share them with the world.

You know what I do love sharing, though? My life experiences and how they’ve shaped me into the woman I am today — the woman I always knew I was deep down but constantly pushed down out of fear. Fear of not being accepted because I acted like an “auntie” or a “mother.” I used to take those labels as an attack on my character, but now I see them as compliments. What people really mean is, “You’re so young and mature. I aspire to be like you when I grow up.”

My authenticity is my superpower. I don’t fit in because I wasn’t made to. I was created by a God who is OUTSTANDING, and His plans for me were always for me to stand out.

So, dear reader — if you’re in a season of elevation, come elevate with me. In this space, I’ll be sharing lessons, stories, and real reflections that have helped me grow. That will help us grow — together.