Written in July 2022.
This current season is filled with a lot of mistakes, which I have taken too personally. My limits have “stretched” me to new lows, but admittedly to highs too. But being constantly stressed or feeling like an imposter just feels very normal now. Hardly the romanticised life I envisioned for myself.
But I know I’ll be okay. I believe in a God who is sovereign over all things, and who promises that all is used for His good and glory. I thank the Lord that nothing is wasted, and that because of Him, my mistakes and shortcomings aren’t my identity anymore. All of my mistakes woven in my story…God use it for your glory.
“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.” — Psalm 91:1–2
While my reflection for this season hasn’t yet formed, one of the things that helps me go through this season is God’s redemptive work in the last season I found myself in.
A hopeless romantic
I get asked a lot if I’m seeing anyone at the moment. The answer is no. My mind can’t even begin to comprehend thinking about dating and marriage, and the thought of “putting myself out there” (whatever that means…) stresses me out.
There are many hills I’ll die on. One of them is against the notion that singleness is sad. The idea makes me so mad!
But while I’ve been a strong advocate for singleness, it’s driven by the deep shame around my own checkered dating history. I’m actually a hopeless romantic, and that has led me to make some questionable decisions. This includes constantly misreading signs, giving too much too soon, being gaslit or being reminded about my shortcomings by past partners, and dealing with very blurry situations of ‘consent’.
Through it all, I stayed longer than I needed to. I was almost always left broken-hearted and angry.
Emotions are my god (?)
It was recently suggested to me that I glorify emotions too much, and I’m guided by how I feel. I don’t know how I feel about that statement, because in particular contexts, it is very hard to not do this unless you’re heartless.
I’ve stayed in situations because of my love and care for the other person, at the price of everything else. It sounds stupid now, but at the time you feel responsible to stay as the only person who understands, or feel hopeful things will change. I think it’s unhelpful to pull someone up for that, when they felt like they were making the best decision. I don’t regret any of my decisions I’ve made — but it also means I need to cop the consequences, including the emotional and mental toll it had on me.
For some reason, migrant and Christian culture both seem allergic to any discussions about emotions. Put being a female in the corporate world, and you can understand my lifelong hesitation to be labelled “emotional”. Sleeping it off or running laps around the oval trying to be less emotional can only do so much.
But I am an emotional person — that itself has taken years to admit. I’m also a relational person, and so being in any relationship with another broken person is always going to lead to disappointment and hurt. We’re never going to make each other happy, nor should we look to other people to give us this.
But like Jesus, I’m committed to casting all my anxieties to the One above (1 Peter 5:7). I’ve made good progess in healing from my past, and to process emotions better and not project them for my future.
Moving on
Last year was so rough. I hate the fact that a romantic relationship breaking down traumatised me so severely. I hate the fact that it took over my life the way it did, including my mind and body countless times. I hate the fact that I was so angry and sad for so long.
There are a lot of reasons why that was the case, which I won’t comment on. But thinking through what it means to forgive, to show grace, and to honour others was very challenging as I grieved — and an example of not letting my emotions deter my better judgement. Following Jesus demands reconciliation, which I talk more about here. Sometimes this heartbreakingly looks like loving them from afar.
I wish I could let go or not let things get to me as much. But I know deep down that there is no such thing as a wasted season in the eyes of a good and great God — including grief. God has used my grief for good, breaking me down to build me back up with more clear priorities and values.
This year, I’ve faced new situations with a newly-gifted emotional backbone, despite being raised to always sweep things under the rug.
I’ve also accepted that sometimes things doesn’t always heal in this life, but in time it just hurts less. Life also doesn’t necessarily get better, it just looks different.
But it is that difference, knowing that I wouldn’t be on this path today without the hurt that led me to it, that reminds me to keep going.
