Being Firm with God

Well, it’s my birthday week, guys, so this series is about to get wrapped up very soon.

It has been nice touching base with you all on a human level. This series has felt like opening up my personal diary and letting you read the pages while I am still living them. Not after I have healed. Not once I have figured everything out. Right in the middle of the confusion, conviction, growth and occasional foolishness.

So today, we are talking about being firm.

I actually removed this guy’s access…..

Yes, I slipped. It happened. But I have reached a point where I want to be intentional with everything I do. I always describe myself as intentionally selective, but I have had to ask myself a harder question.

What does being intentional actually look like in every area of my life?

It is easy to call yourself intentional when it comes to work, your friendships or your future. It becomes harder when you are lonely. When you miss affection. When someone feels familiar. When the opportunity is right there and you know it could give you a quick fix.

But I cannot keep feeding short-term, instant gratification just because I feel lonely.

And sometimes I have to question whether it is even loneliness or if it is just familiarity.

Sometimes we do not miss the person. We miss knowing how the story goes. We miss the routine. We miss having someone available. Familiarity can feel like comfort, even when the situation is not good for us.

That brought me straight back to trusting God.

I cannot keep saying, “Lord, I trust You,” while still keeping one hand on the thing I know He is asking me to release.

At some point, my actions have to match my prayers.

I need to show God, “Okay, Lord. I trust You in this area so much that I am not even going to play games or flirt with the idea of someone I already know is not for me.”

Not because I hate him.

Not because I need to prove a point.

Not because I suddenly believe I am better than anyone.

But because I know what I want now, and I also know what repeatedly entertaining the wrong thing does to me.

So yes, I sent my mini paragraph.

“I don’t think we talk like that. I don’t think there’s any point in continuing this because we’re looking for different things. I’m at a place where I want a real connection, and I’m open to dating with intention. Even if it’s fun, I still want consistency. I don’t feel like you’re able to give me that at all, and I’d rather be honest than keep repeating a cycle.”

Ego on the floor, y’all.

Because what I really wanted to do was eat my cake and play the game too.

I wanted the fun without the consequences. The access without the attachment. The familiarity without the disappointment. But I know myself. I know I cannot keep pretending certain situations are casual when they leave me confused, disappointed or craving MOREEEEE.

And you know when the saxophone starts getting louder in your spirit?

That was conviction.

Every single thing was a red flag.

Rekindling it, red flag.

Lifestyle, red flag.

Communication, red flag.

Lack of consistency but still wanting access, massive red flag.

At some point, I had to stop calling it chemistry and admit it was a cycle.

And Mimi, you say you want your husband, right?

You say you want someone consistent, emotionally available, intentional and serious about building something real.

So you also have to date like you believe that person exists.

You cannot say you want marriage while constantly entertaining situations that clearly have no direction. You cannot pray for healthy love and keep reopening unhealthy doors because you are bored, lonely or attracted to the person standing behind them.

I had been on the road to intentional dating.

But chile, then summer arrived.

The sun came out. The skin started glowing. The music started sounding better. Suddenly, people who should have remained in the archives started looking interesting again.

Summer can really have you keeping people around for no reason.

But back to reality.

Being firm means accepting that just because something feels good does not mean it is good for you.

It means deciding that your future matters more than your current craving.

It means understanding that boundaries are not punishment. They are protection.

It means refusing to keep negotiating with decisions you already know you need to make.

Being firm is not always loud. Sometimes it is simply removing access. Sometimes it is sending the honest message. Sometimes it is resisting the urge to check whether they replied. Sometimes it is sitting with your loneliness instead of filling it with someone who cannot offer you what you truly need.

And honestly, that is the uncomfortable part.

Once you remove the distraction, you are left with yourself.

Your feelings.

Your desire to be chosen.

Your fear that the right person may take too long to arrive.

Your temptation to settle for temporary company because waiting feels too quiet.

But maybe being firm is another form of faith.

Maybe it is saying, “God, I would rather be alone than repeatedly attached to something that pulls me away from what I have prayed for.”

Maybe it is trusting that releasing the wrong person does not mean love is passing you by.

Maybe it means you finally believe you do not have to hold onto crumbs because God is capable of giving you something whole.

So yes, I removed the access.

I chose the uncomfortable truth over temporary comfort.

I chose intention over impulse.

I chose to stop repeating a cycle that I already knew the ending to.

Was my ego hurt?

Absolutely.

Did part of me still want to play the game?

Of course.

But I am learning that growth is not always about no longer wanting the wrong thing. Sometimes growth is wanting it and choosing differently anyway.

That is being firm.

And I guess this is me, back to reality.