On Healing, Desire, and Being Brave Enough to Be Seen

“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit." -Romans 8:1

There's something beautiful and terrifying about standing at the edge of vulnerability. I found myself there recently, wrestling with a question that felt both simple and impossibly complex: What does it look like to desire love without desperation? To be ready without seeking? To be seen without performing?

Maybe you've been there too—in that tender space where your heart knows what it wants, but your mind scrambles to protect you from the possibility of being misunderstood, judged, or reduced to someone else's narrow expectations.

Do not fear, for you will not be ashamed; neither be disgraced, for you will not be put to shame; for you will forget the shame of your youth, and will not remember the reproach of your widowhood anymore. 
Isaiah 54:4

That Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height—to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
Ephesians 3:17-19

And He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
2 Corinthians 12:9

The Fear of Being Seen (Really Seen)

I'll be honest: I've been hiding. Not from God—He sees me anyway. But from people. From spaces where I might be evaluated, categorized, or dismissed because my story doesn't fit neatly into conventional boxes.

You see, I'm a mother. I've walked through seasons that have marked me, changed me, grown me. My journey with faith hasn't been a straight line, and my path to this place of readiness for love has been anything but traditional. And sometimes, the fear of having all of that seen feels overwhelming.

Maybe your story feels complicated too. Maybe you've been shaped by circumstances that don't make for easy small talk. Maybe you've learned to shrink yourself to avoid the discomfort of explanation.

But here's what I'm learning: Our complexity isn't our liability—it's our gift.

When Desire Meets Design

There's a difference between desperation and desire. Desperation says, "I need this to be complete." Desire says, "I was created for connection, and that's beautiful."

God designed us for relationship. It's woven into our very being, from the first "It is not good for man to be alone" to the profound mystery of marriage reflecting Christ and the church. When we feel that pull toward companionship, toward partnership, toward love—we're not broken. We're responding to something sacred within us.

The enemy loves to twist this, doesn't he? He whispers that our longing makes us weak, that wanting love makes us desperate, that being ready means we're incomplete without it. But that's not the voice of Truth.

The Truth is this: You can be whole and still desire partnership. You can be complete in Christ and still long for earthly companionship. You can be content and still hope.

Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart; wait, I say, on the Lord!
Psalm 27:14

Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
Philippians 4:11-13

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.
Ecclesiastes 3:1

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.
Proverbs 3:5-6

The Practice of Showing Up

I've been considering stepping into spaces that feel vulnerable—places where I might be seen, evaluated, maybe even misunderstood. The thought makes my chest tight with anxiety. But I'm beginning to realize that sometimes we're not called to step forward because we're ready to be chosen. Sometimes we're called to step forward so we stop hiding.

There's something powerful about showing up authentically—not to perform, not to prove, not to perfect ourselves for someone else's approval, but simply to practice being unashamed of our full lives. Even the quiet aches. Even the tender longings. Even the complicated parts of our stories.

This isn't about putting ourselves "on the market." This is about refusing to shrink back into the shadows because the world hasn't always handled us gently.

Addressing the Voices That Try to Shame Us

Let me speak to some of the lies that might be whispering in your ear right now:

"Your circumstances make you less desirable."

No. Your circumstances make you real. Your story—with all its twists and turns—has shaped you into someone with depth, resilience, and authenticity. The right person won't see your history as a liability; they'll see it as the beautiful foundation of who you've become.

"You're too different to fit in."

Thank goodness. The world has enough people trying to fit into boxes that were never meant to contain them. Your unique walk, your particular testimony, your distinct perspective—these aren't obstacles to overcome. They're gifts to celebrate.

"Wanting love means you're not content in God."

This breaks my heart because it's such a distortion of truth. God Himself said it's not good for us to be alone. He created us with hearts that long for connection. Wanting love doesn't make you less spiritual—it makes you human. And being human is exactly what God designed you to be.

Finding Rest in the Greatest Love

Here's the anchor truth that holds everything else: We are already completely loved.

Not partially. Not conditionally. Not pending improvement or circumstance changes. Completely. By the God who knows every hidden part of our hearts, every complicated chapter of our stories, every tender desire we carry.

This doesn't diminish our longing for human love—it sanctifies it. When we're secure in God's love, we can desire partnership without desperation. We can be ready without being restless. We can hope without being consumed by the hoping.

In His love, we find:

• Freedom from the need to perform because we're already accepted

• Courage to be authentic because we're already known

• Peace in the waiting because we're already cherished

• Strength to be vulnerable because we're already safe

An Invitation to Brave Visibility

So what does this mean for us practically? How do we live in this tension between healing and hoping, between contentment and desire?

We practice showing up. Not hustling, not hiding, but simply showing up as ourselves—complex, beautiful, imperfect, and beloved.

Maybe for you that means:

• Having an honest conversation with a friend about where you are

• Joining a community where you can be known beyond your circumstances

• Creating space to process your own story with compassion

• Asking God to show you how He sees your desires
  
  

Whatever it looks like, remember this: You don't need to be seeking to be seen. You don't need to be dating to be open. You don't need to be like everyone else to be valid.

Your walk is different—yes. And that's precisely why you might belong in spaces where authenticity is valued over performance, where depth is prized over simplicity, where the fullness of human experience is welcomed rather than sanitized.

A Final Thought

That nervousness you feel when you think about being truly seen? That tender vulnerability that makes your chest tight? That's not weakness. That's the cost of being deeply self-aware in a world that often isn't. It means you care. It means you haven't numbed yourself to the beauty and risk of connection.

Your tenderness isn't a flaw—it's part of your spiritual authority. Having a voice doesn't mean being loud; it means being anchored. Even if you're trembling.

So to you, dear reader, wherever you find yourself today: You are not too much. You're not easily categorized, and that's exactly as it should be. Whether you're single and longing, married and remembering, or somewhere in between—your heart's capacity for love is a reflection of the God who is love.

Don't shrink back because the world hasn't always handled you gently. Don't hide because your story is complex. Don't apologize for the way God designed your heart to beat.

You are seen.

You are known.

You are loved beyond measure.

And that, sweet soul, is more than enough.

What resonates with you in this season? I'd love to hear how you're navigating the beautiful tension between contentment and desire, between healing and hoping. Share your thoughts in the comments below.