The struggle of being a romantic single person

I am a romantic person. It’s been an integral part of my personality since I was about three years old. Maybe it’s because I was obsessed with Disney, maybe it’s because my siblings were all high school age at the time I should have been believing boys had cooties. Either way, my thought process every time I step outside my door in the morning generally includes something along the lines of, “I could meet my future husband today.”

When I entered high school, I was determined that I was going to find the perfect man – on the first day. Let’s just say I was not successful.

Now, when I have a crush on a person, it’s not just a, “Oh, yeah. They’re cute. I’d probably say yes if they asked me out” thing. Oh, no. If I actually admit to myself that I like someone, I already have our children named and house picked out. Call me creepy if you want. It’s just the way I operate.

So I went from crush to crush, each time telling myself beforehand, “I won’t get caught up in this. I will guard my emotions, guard my heart, and I won’t be too disappointed if things don’t go my way.” I would tell myself that as much as I wanted, but it would never work.

Finally, sitting in my room, my face resembling my window pane from the November rainstorm outside, I poured my heart out to God, telling Him I was tired of getting my hopes up again and again only to have my heart dragged through the dirt. Deciding to be bluntly honest, I admitted to Him that I was angry, that I didn’t understand why He hadn’t seen fit to lead me to a boy who would like me in return, and instead make me have feelings for ones that had absolutely no interest. Was I undesirable? Was I ugly? Why would He make me this way if it would be repulsive to the opposite gender?

Through some counsel on my mother’s part and searching the Word for the first time in nearly a year, God revealed to me what He was trying to tell me through all of my heartbreak. He wanted me to trust His plan for my life, rather than try to enact my own. He wanted my full trust. And He wanted me to find my completion in him.

My first step was to read the Gospel of John. This has always been my favorite Gospel just because of it’s emphasis on love. And let me tell you, that book, particularly the fourteenth chapter, has some gems for the troubled heart. In verse 27, Jesus says, “I am leaving you with a gift – peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid.”

I was floored. Here I was, chasing after security in this world, when the only security I needed was in the Lord. I thought that if I could just prove to myself that I was at least likeable, if not lovable, then I could find some sort of inner peace that I would, eventually, get what I had always wanted in a human. It had never occurred to me that God wanted me to find that in Him.

Finally, at the age of sixteen, I discovered what it was to be made new. When I found my fulfillment in Christ, I couldn’t have imagined my life any other way. I was generally a more pleasant person because I was focusing on what I could do for the Lord, rather than what the Lord could do for me.

I’ve been at college for all of two months, but it remains difficult to keep that in perspective. I keep hearing about “getting my M.R.S., keep seeing cute guys getting snatched up like flies, and I ask God,

“What about me? Do I get one?” I mean, seriously. My sister is an alumni of Corban, and being one of the girls who came away without any relationship whatsoever, she warned me before I came here of how easy it was to get caught up in “Corban fever.” And I told her, “Hey, I’m going to college for an education. If I get married, that’ll just be a perk.”

How easily we forget. It was even easier than she’d made it out to be to misplace my ambition to focus on my studies and focus on the amount of guys here – or, for that matter, lack thereof. My mother reminded me when I was ranting to her about this topic one day, “You’re a freshman. Honey, you’re eighteen. You have time.” To which I replied, “There’s a four to one ratio, Mother! I have no time!”

In my next heart to heart with God about this, I laid it all out on the table. And, like the great God He is, He gently reminds me to trust Him, that there is nothing good apart from Him, and that the only man I want is the one He gives me. Is it always a breeze to remember? Heavens no. Will I continue to wait on the Lord? Of course. Because the only love story I desire after is one written by His own hand.