01/16/2026
Over the last few months, I’ve shared little glimpses of my relationship.
A man who is emotionally present.
Consistent.
Grounded.
Protective without being controlling.
Devotional without losing himself.
A man who leads with integrity, communicates directly, prays with me, holds space when things are tender, and shows up not just when it’s easy, but when it actually matters.
People asked…
“How did you get him to show up this way?”
So I asked him.
“How did I get you to show up for me the way that you do?”
This was his response.
“You didn’t get me to do anything.
Long before I met you, you chose who you wanted to be. You did your inner work. You pursued depth, faith, kindness, emotional health, and femininity. And you were honest about that, without apology.
From the beginning, you saw the best parts of me and treated them as real, even when they were still growing. You didn’t try to fix me or manage me. You encouraged me. You celebrated the small things. You expressed genuine gratitude. You created a space where my best self felt welcomed and called forward.
You also hold boundaries. You’re honest. When something needs to be addressed, you do it with compassion, not criticism. We can have open, truthful conversations and still feel safe and connected afterward.
We pray together. We grow together. You take responsibility for your inner world and do your own introspective work. And that makes it easy and natural for me to do the same.
The truth is, when two people are committed to becoming whole, grounded in God, humility, and love, they tend to recognize each other. And when both are proactive about their inner life, the relationship becomes a place of encouragement, not control.”
What you see isn’t strategy. It’s alignment. And it’s a choice we both make daily, not just for the relationship, but for something greater than ourselves.
One of the things I believe most deeply attracted my partner to me had nothing to do with appearance, performance, or saying the right things.
It was my commitment to inner work.
To shadow work.
To meeting the parts of myself that were uncomfortable, reactive, scared, or still holding old wounds. (Continued 👇)
