There was a time when life felt lighter. I laughed more. I trusted easier. I didn’t question people’s motives or second-guess their intentions; I just believed in the good in them. I was full of joy, full of life, full of faith in people. But life has a way of changing you. Certain experiences and people can take that light-hearted version of you. They can make her more guarded, more careful, and more aware. The amusing part is that once life unfolded, my identity and the way others experienced me changed significantly. To someone new, it might seem like I’m hard to love. It might look like I have walls up, like I’m too much or maybe even unreachable. But the truth is, I love deeply; I just love differently now. Once I know that you’re genuine and honest, I open up. When I realize you’re guided by God and not by ego, I reveal parts of myself. You’ll see the side of me that no one else gets to see. That’s when you’ll meet the version of me that still believes in forever. She is a woman who loves without limits, but only when she knows she’s safe.

The thing about trauma is that it doesn’t just leave scars you can see. It leaves fingerprints on your soul; quiet wounds that no one notices but you. It changes the way you move through the world. It affects how you love and how you trust. It impacts how you breathe when someone says, “You can trust me.” Once upon a time, I could meet someone kind and instantly feel grateful. Now, kindness alone doesn’t move me, because I’ve learned that most people show up as their representative first. You meet their performance, not their truth. These days, I hear often, “You’re sweet, but you’re closed off,” or “You’re nurturing, but it’s like you’re guarded.” They’re right. I am guarded. Because once upon a time, I would have been the “mainstream girl”… pure-hearted, all-in, always choosing love first. But pain changed that. The aftermath of that pain led to the healing that helped me grow. Now, I’m cautious; not fearful, but selective. A man would have to be sent by God Himself to stand close to my heart. He couldn’t just say it. He’d have to show it. No red flags. No uneasy gut feelings that whisper, “Something’s off.” I’ve compromised before. I’ve made myself smaller to keep relationships alive that were already dead. I’ve settled for potential instead of peace.

But now? Never again.

In this healing place, my standards are firm; not as walls, but as gates of discernment. To be with me, a man must be communicative and not surface-level talk, but heart-level understanding. We should talk to hear, not to win. We should talk to connect, not to compete. And beyond words, there must be consistency. Because consistency is love made visible. It’s the rhythm that builds trust. I don’t want a man who disappears when life gets busy or only reaches out when it’s convenient. I want a man whose presence doesn’t fade when things get real.

And let’s be clear…honesty isn’t optional. We’re grown. Why lie?

Another non-negotiable: I can’t date a man who constantly bashes the mother of his children. That’s not strength; it’s a warning sign. If she was “crazy” or “difficult,” why did you stay long enough to have children with her? And if she’s so awful, why hasn’t the court granted you custody? People tell their version of the story, and often, it’s rewritten to make them the victim. I can guarantee there’s a woman out there right now hearing stories about me. They are stories my ex-husband tells to justify his absence. Maybe he’s telling her, “She keeps the kids from me,” or “She’s hard to deal with.” What he won’t say is that he’s inconsistent, skips school events, and chooses convenience over commitment. He won’t mention how he’s missed calls, visits, or moments that matter. This is why I no longer entertain conversations rooted in deflection. I’ve learned that a man’s relationship with his children and their mother tells you everything about his character. And as I move forward, I no longer rush to blend lives or families. Healing taught me the power of slow. I don’t need my ex to meet who I’m dating. That chapter is closed. My focus is peace; not performance.

If I ever let someone new into my world, know this: he’s consistent and kind. He is God-led and emotionally mature enough to love both me and my children with gentleness. Otherwise, I’ll stay single. Because solitude is peace; and peace is better than being re-traumatized by another broken soul. While on my healing journey I have learned that being alone is not a punishment. It’s protection. Healing has made me realize that trauma doesn’t just make you cautious, it makes you conscious. It teaches you to listen to your gut. It encourages you to guard your peace. It reminds you to walk away from anyone who makes your spirit uneasy. That’s why it is so important to heal before you date again. Because if you don’t, every silence will sound like abandonment. Every delayed text will feel like betrayal. Every disagreement will awaken old wounds that whisper, “See? They’re just like the last one.” Unhealed trauma turns triggers into truths that aren’t real. I’ve been there; seeing someone new and realizing I’m still flinching at ghosts from my past. I’ve mistaken peace for boredom, kindness for manipulation, and silence for punishment. Healing taught me to pause before reacting. It taught me to sit with my triggers. I have learned the difference between intuition and fear.

I realized this recently while sitting in my office writing. It had been a while since I’d heard from someone special. Out of nowhere, that old familiar feeling of abandonment crept in. It took me right back to the days with my ex. He’d lie about being busy. He’d say he was working. He would make some excuse, all while being tied up with someone else. That pit in my stomach came rushing back, and my mind started spinning with every negative thought possible. But then after hours of thinking and praying; I caught myself. I reminded myself, he’s not my ex. He hasn’t given me a reason not to trust him. The truth is, I’m still healing. Sometimes the trauma of my past tries to speak louder than the peace I’m building now. And that’s where I am now; still healing, still learning, still growing. I’m not ready to give myself away just yet, but I am open… just a little. Maybe a peek. Because life is a revolving door of lessons and rebirths. Every ending opens a new beginning. Every heartbreak becomes a teacher. And right now, I’m just letting the wind carry me where I need to go; slow, intentional, rooted in peace.

In my upcoming book, Unveil the Secrets That Saved Me (coming in 2026), I’ll be sharing the truth about the traumas in my life. These experiences shaped me. I will also show how they all molded me into the woman I am today. I’ll share the moments that tested my faith and stretched my boundaries. I’ll also discuss the painful seasons that forced me to truly heal. It’s raw, it’s honest, and it’s the story of how brokenness can bloom into strength when you finally choose yourself.

If you haven’t read The Healing Journey or Trusting God in the Storm, I encourage you to start there. Those stories are the fertile ground that birthed my next book. Unveiled: The Secrets That Saved Me will ultimately bring closure to the most traumatic chapters of my life. It will offer you a glimpse into my fresh start and the next phase of my journey.

But, until next time, protect your peace. Heal loudly. Love slowly. And never apologize for choosing yourself first.

With love,

Shell