I’ve been writing letters to my husband, but I’m not married yet.
I call this faithful romanticizing. It’s the most intentional I’ve ever been with romance. And as someone who has always been an intentional dater, this time just feels different.
It feels different because, for once, my attachment isn’t tied to being chosen. I have the confidence that my husband will come in due time. Getting to this solitude has taken a lot of healing, honesty, self-awareness, forgiveness, and grace — mostly for myself, and toward the men I’ve dated.
I used to date for potential. Starting in high school, and then that carried into early adulthood. My eyes glistened about love. It glistened so much that when I received it from a guy I really liked, it melted my heart away and made me love harder. It made me love in ways that put me second–a lot. More times than I should, until I was broken and I had no choice but to pick up the pieces of my shattered heart.
After a while, this feeling of brokenness became a repeated cycle that I noticed at the end of each of my relationships. I’ve only been in three. However, the last two were mirrors of my strength and reflections that changed the trajectory of how I see romance.
The most defining of them all was the last one. He had everything on paper, but no matter how long the list was, it was never enough. Not in a selfish way, but it just wasn’t in alignment with who I was meant to become. Because by this time, I knew exactly what I wanted and what I needed from a man, just as a man knows exactly what he’s looking for. I made my own list: the must-haves, pros, cons, and compromises. I learned from my past relationships. I did the healing and didn’t carry anything over into dating this guy (at least, I thought). I truly accepted this experience with open arms. We talked. I was honest. We spent quality time. My love language. We enjoyed each other’s company. But after a while, that wasn’t enough. I felt a void that only I could address, and that meant cutting the blossoming relationship of sweet nothings out of my reach before it worsened.
Letting go hurt like hell. That’s always been a difficult practice for me. To me, it’s like, ‘How can I let go of someone or something that actually felt good?’ ‘Why do I have to be the one to let go?’ ‘Why didn’t this work?’ UGH. These were my thoughts. I took letting go so personally until I realized it was there to help me.
This was nothing like my first heartbreak, where I lost a dear friend of eight years at the same time. This was like a gut punch, where my body was releasing all of the pain, potential, and anxious attachment that was beginning to boil over if I didn’t call it quits. Though we dated for 4 months, it was a proud moment for me when I told him I couldn’t continue because we obviously wanted two different things out of love. It was liberating because I didn’t let the pain of seeing potential fester too long before we spent more time together. I also learned I tend to place men who show me love sporadically as “something I could work with.” No, no, no. When a man (or anyone) shows you who they are, believe them the very first time.
From that point, I healed by turning inward. I reflected on my patterns and behaviors that showed up– the great ones, the new ones, and the ones that need a little more attention. As someone who always knows how to return home, to self, I will say finding myself again was never the issue; in fact, I wasn’t lost. The entire time, I was actually becoming who I’m supposed to be right now, so that healing journey was more about shedding old habits.
As time always does, it healed me. Through self-love and spending lots of time with God, family, and community, I began to imagine love again. In the way God wants me to have it. That’s what’s different this time around. I’ve surrendered my timeline– although I still wonder how my husband and I will meet (that’s the fun part). I’ve let go of the pressures of finding, and I’ve embraced living a full life before my husband and with him.
So, until then, writing letters to my husband has been part of this sweet, loving, God-led journey I call faithful romanticizing. I’ll share more about what’s in those letters as time goes on. But for now, I like that it’s just him and me.
If you’re on a journey of singleness and desire partnership, or if you’re waiting for the next step in love, believe that God is working on your behalf. You will be tested. You will be pushed. You will learn. It’s all about you becoming your best, not about your partner. And the wait will then make sense and be so damn worth it.
With all my love,
xoxo CHR
“When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent and could say, I used everything you gave me.” -E.B.
Cianna Hope 