6 Points of Love in the Beginning

dinner-date

I’ve been doing some reading today and it sparked a few thoughts about love and relationships. I’ve had my fair share of ups and downs, but through it all, I’ve realized how precious life—and love—really is. Below are six lessons I’ve picked up along the way, both before and during my current relationship. Themes I’ve revisited in past blogs, but somehow they still feel just as fresh.

1. Love Comes When You Least Expect It

This one is so real. Every relationship I’ve had showed up when I wasn’t even looking. And when I did try to chase it down, it usually ended in me questioning my own worth. The love I’m in now? Completely unexpected—and completely right. It’s funny how sometimes you leave an imprint on someone’s heart and they circle back when they realize how special that was.

2. Be Patient

I’ve wrestled with abandonment issues for a long time. The anxiety of waiting on a reply or wondering where someone is used to eat me up. Like many women, I overanalyzed and panicked—even when the guy was just taking a nap. With time, I learned to sit with those feelings, understand them, and not let them take over. Insecurity is loud. But confidence in your own growth? That’s peace.

3. Stay Busy

I can’t say this enough—don’t lose yourself in someone else. Keep your life full. Nurture your friendships. Pick up a hobby (writing’s been mine). In the early days of a relationship, it's so easy to fall into "let’s spend every second together" mode. But if you keep doing you, it makes integrating your partner into your life that much smoother—and healthier.

4. Men Are Simple

Seriously. When they like you, they’ll show it. When they don’t, they act weird and confusing. Trust and honesty are non-negotiables. If you can’t trust him, what’s the point? And yes, a woman’s intuition is everything. Don’t confuse insecurity with instinct—there’s a difference. One is rooted in fear, the other in truth.

5. Don’t Try to Change Him

Let me repeat that: you cannot change him. If you find yourself making excuses or constantly explaining away bad behavior, that’s your sign. I’ve seen it play out too many times with friends (and in my own life). You want someone who helps you grow, not someone who keeps you stuck. You can’t fix broken—especially if it’s not your job to fix it in the first place.

6. Your Partner Should Be Your Best Friend

You should be able to be your weird, wonderful self around them. The Comedian makes me laugh even in the hardest moments, and he’s also there when I need to fall apart a little. We don’t share everything (I mean, he doesn’t need the play-by-play of my favorite reality show), but he’s my safe space—and that means everything.

At the end of the day, every relationship is different. But here’s what I know for sure: you’re the only one responsible for your happiness. If you’re not happy with yourself, no one else can fill that gap. So love yourself first—and let the rest follow.

Anxiously Waiting

This past weekend, I was presented with a new thought.

Growing up, I was taught to be on time. Actually—worse—I was taught to be five minutes early, because being “on time” was considered late. You can thank my military upbringing for that one. I’ve always made it a point to let people know when I’m on my way, if I’m running late, or if I can’t make it at all. Something in my conscience said it was the right thing to do.

But after a recent conversation, I started to dig a little deeper. Why did I feel the need to over-communicate every detail of my ETA? Why did I feel anxious if someone else didn’t do the same? I always thought it was simple courtesy, but maybe it was more than that.

Reading The 5 Love Languages by Dr. Gary Chapman gave me some insight. We often express love—or courtesy—the way we want to receive it. So for me, punctuality and communication were ways I showed respect and care, and I expected that same energy in return.

Over time, I’ve learned you can’t expect people to be just like you. Trust me, this lesson didn’t come easy. (I’m a recovering grammar stickler who used to love correcting people.) But I’ve come to realize that unsolicited help isn’t always welcome. People appreciate your support when they ask for it—not when it's pushed on them. And that applies to punctuality, too.

Recently, I found myself feeling tense when someone wasn’t on time. I got that familiar nervous flutter. But why? After sitting with the feeling, an old friend reappeared: abandonment. Yep. That deep-rooted fear of being left alone showed up again, just wearing a different outfit.

I've come a long way in healing from those issues, but every now and then, a trigger sneaks in—reminding me that healing isn’t always linear.

This reflection reminded me of something important: I am not my past. I am not my fear. I am here, in this moment. The present is what matters most. So I’ll keep learning, keep growing, and keep catching myself when the old demons try to whisper something untrue.

Because I am not who I was. I am who I choose to be—right now.

Daddy’s Little Girl… I Think

One of the biggest things I struggled with in my 20s was abandonment. I was talking to a friend recently about my relationship with my father and how things have shifted over the past few years.

Growing up, my dad and I were never especially close. He was in the Army most of my life, always working or traveling. When I was about 11, he went to Panama on business and, essentially, never moved back home. My parents divorced right before I turned 14. After that, he’d check in now and then or send money for school, but he wasn’t really there. And even though he had always been distant, I still felt this deep need to impress him. I worked hard in school, hoping for some kind of approval. But once he left, that drive started to fade. I did well in high school, but once I got to college, everything changed. I struggled in ways I hadn’t before—and not having my dad around definitely didn’t help.

When people think about “daddy issues,” they usually imagine two extremes: either someone who’s overly promiscuous and afraid of commitment, or someone who jumps from relationship to relationship trying to fill that void. I won’t say exactly where I fell on that spectrum, but I will say this: I was terrified of commitment for a long time. I self-sabotaged more than once with men who genuinely cared for me. It was like I was preparing myself for them to leave—because that’s what I knew.

At one point in my late 20s, I had completely resigned to the idea of being alone. It felt easier. No one could get close enough to hurt me, and I convinced myself that I was content.

Then I met someone who saw right through me. She made it her mission to figure me out, and in doing so, helped me recognize the patterns and fears I’d built around relationships. I’d had close friends in college who supported me through hard times, but this was different. She saw the deeper layers and called them out with compassion. Her friendship helped me get more comfortable with emotional closeness.

About three years ago, out of nowhere, my father came back into my life. He started emailing me almost daily, calling every week. It was surreal. After so much time apart, I had to learn how to let him back in. And as strange as it sounds, his presence started easing the weight I’d carried for so long. My abandonment issues didn’t just disappear, but they loosened their grip.

There were still moments where I’d fall into old feelings—but overall, having him back made a huge difference. Then, in February of this year, something shifted even deeper when I started going to church. I felt a conviction stirring in me. I knew I had to forgive my father—not just for his absence, but for the space he left in me that I didn’t know how to fill.

Since then, I’ve felt lighter. And I’m so grateful he’s in my life again. The more we talk, the more I see myself in him—his sarcasm, his outgoing nature. He tells me stories about how I was his little baby, and it melts me. It’s healing to know he loved me all along, even if he didn’t always show it in ways I needed.

At the end of the day, that’s what matters—not the past, not the uncertainty of the future, but this moment. Right now, my dad is present. He’s a part of my life in a way I never expected. And forgiving him—along with anyone else who’s hurt me—was the best gift I could give myself.

If you’re looking for change, sometimes all it takes is a prayer. God has a plan. And I know mine is unfolding in a beautiful way.