Liar

 

Remember my post about being pursued by an amazing man?

Long, twisted, elaborate web of lies and deceit story made short, he was engaged to a lovely woman in the Philippines. He met me on a dating app, pursued me for 3 months, and eventually took advantage of me sexually, telling me he loved me and wanted to marry me, all while engaged to someone else. He took my first kiss. He touched me inappropriately. His fiancée found out about me, and I found out the entire truth when she and I connected and were able to compare notes. Videos of him denying he was with me, while I was in the restaurant waiting for him to return. Messages of him denying me. Screenshots. Voicemails. Video chats. So many lies.

His fiancée and I are friends now. She is precious. We’ve gotten to talk on the phone. God is giving both of us comfort in one another as we try and make sense of the way Philip used us both for his own pleasure.

Let this be a cautionary tale. If the man you’re with hasn’t told his family about you. Never talks on the phone around you, insists on leaving the room to answer. If he tells you he wants to protect your purity, but then does not act that out. Run. He does not love you.

 

Singles Awareness Day

September 2016, I was in my kitchen, washing dishes, after having a really bad day at work. Just prior to this, I had called my best friend, whom I was courting at the time, and asked him to come over. Hoping to vent and also get some of his healing hugs. 

When he arrived, he immediately started with “Moriah, we need to talk…” and proceeded to tell me he had been thinking and praying about whether or not God was calling him out of his original calling to be celibate for life to marry me, or not. And he had arrived at his conclusion. We were not meant to marry. He was going to remain celibate, as he felt he was called to for most of his life. And, after 9 months of spending almost all our time together, he thought we should spend two months apart to heal and spend time with God without distractions. 

We had agreed in the past that should our relationship not end in marriage, we would remain friends. We would not allow the end of our romantic relationship to cause the end of our platonic one. I had agreed to this, fully expecting to marry this wonderful, amazing man as soon as he came to his senses and abandoned this notion of lifelong celibacy. After all, he openly admitted he was in love with me and that I was his dream wife. 

The next two months felt like the longest months of my life. We saw each other once in the middle, in October, when we along with one other friend went to a Dave Ramsey conference. His two roommates often came over and hung out with me. One of them, while I was doing busywork as he took advantage of my wifi and typed a resume for a job, asked me,

“Hey… I don’t mean to intrude but… Are you doing okay? After you and Peter… How are you feeling?” 

“I’m… I don’t know…”

Two months came and went, and we began hanging out again. He put up barriers, made some rules. To protect my heart. Something he was always very good at despite my arguments. And he remained my closest, most trusted friend. After all, we wanted to marry one another, and we made sure we agreed on everything and told each other everything. No one knows me like he does. And he still is. Two years and 4 months later. 

Along the way I met another guy who is also very close, but not quite as. He’s a cutie, but not in the romantic sense, for me anyway, and he and I are both happy with that arrangement. 

So why am I retelling my the story of my one and only romantic relationship?

Because. It’s nearly Valentine’s Day. I woke up today, ate breakfast, took a long walk, washed some dishes, and watched Doctor Who until now. 6:13pm. Sure, I left my house, but only to walk literally around the neighborhood I live in. How am I ever going to meet the man I’m actually meant to marry when I spend my days off tucked away in my house sipping tea?

Conversely, where am I supposed to go? I don’t have the money to just go somewhere, most places cost money. I don’t know. I do know that God is in control. It’s not my job to “find my man”. 

But still, I’m 25. Though I didn’t care about the first, oh, 16 Valentine’s Day’s, 17-now I’ve begrudgingly spent each Valentine’s Day alone. Kinda tired of that… 

A little birdie told me…

So occasionally I have little bullet point thoughts 💭. They’re short and to the point and not really worthy of a full blog. But I still wanna get them out there. So I made a twitter account for this purpose.

TQG Twitter

Please feel free to follow me if you’re a Twitterer too! 😉

Not all that glitters is gold

Honestly, if my future husband found a pretty pebble from some place we adventured in, had that made into an engagement ring and proposed with a little earthy colored rock on a plain band, I’d probably cry happy tears and cherish that thing for the rest of my life.

I can just hear the exclamations of, “Oh my gosh, you said yes to that ugly thing?!” to which I would proudly reply;

“No. I said yes to the amazing, humble, sentimental man who was on one knee in front of me, asking me to spend the rest of my life with him. And I’ve never looked back since.”

Who I’ve Become; A Rant on Self-Love, & a Trip Down Memory Lane

Our world is rather obsessed with self-love at the moment. Be who you are, be authentic, love your flaws, don’t change yourself for the approval of the world.

Those are all rather neutral ideas. But they can easily be abused, I think they need to be updated to fit a more biblical standpoint…

Be who God created you to be, and who He is making you to be.

Love the way God makes up for your flaws. Your flaws allow Him to shine through you.

Change yourself for the approval of God even if that means loosing the approval of the world. Or, rather, let God change you into something He approves of, and don’t worry what the world thinks.

Let God’s love shine authentically through you.

Over the last three-four years, I have gone through some major changes that have helped me realize those things…

November. 22, 2014, my mom passed away at age 47.

March 2015, I began a new career in Ophthalmology.

June 2015, I met Peter, and…

March 2016 …soon after began my first courtship with him, which lead me on many wild and exciting adventures of travel, self-discovery, and fear-facing. Car crashes, long talks about marriage, delved so deeply into who I am with the help of a truly amazing man by my side.

April 2016, my dad got remarried to a really lovely lady who is now, obviously, my stepmom. And I gained two step siblings.

September 2016, Peter broke off our courtship, which was extremely difficult, as the last 6 months of our relationship had gone amazingly and the only reason to end the courtship was that he felt he was meant to live a life of celibacy. A calling he has felt most of his life, but he sought God through our courtship to see if he was meant to marry me. He felt he was not. But we have remained very close friends and still love one another deeply as such.

December 2016, I obtained two certifications in Ophthalmology. OSC & COA.

January 2017, I moved from the house I grew up in into a house with a roommate.

July-ish 2017? I began developing a friendship with Jonathan, a lovely fellow I’ve known as long as I’ve known Peter, but had never really sought to spend one-on-one time with. He’s my adopted little brother now. He’s a gem. I love that guy dearly. ❤️

December 2017, Got my first tattoo. A memorial for my mom.

June 2018, Got my second tattoo, a reminder that Jesus has paid my debit in full and my battle is won by His blood.

And now, here we are, June 30th, 2018, and I am just a day short of one month away from being 25. In among those above dates are countless road trips, hours and hours of laughter, tears, literally thousands of dollars worth of fuel and fast food, moments of fear, moments of joy, dashed hopes and hopes turned into realities, and lots of good music. My heart aches to be able to go back in time and relive the moments of discovery I’ve had over this stretch of time. So many good memories, woven together with so much pain. Growing pains that have lead me to where I am now. Stronger, wiser, more confident, freer than I have ever been.

I still struggle hard sometimes with things. Temptations, fears, laziness, etc. But I love the person God has made me to be. I love the heart he has given me towards certain people and certain struggles, I love the adventures He’s taken me on, I love the risks I’ve taken and the way those risks paid off in my life…

I feel that now, for the first time ever in my life, I can say that I honestly do love myself. Not for what I’ve accomplished, but for what God has accomplished in and through me. I love the way He’s used me to love and provide for people. I love the way He’s dashed all my fears against the rocks and sent me out into the ocean of His love to drown. Dying to who I thought I was, and coming back as someone far, far better than I thought was possible.

As I sit here today in a very weird rocking chair (seriously… it’s strange..) typing this, with my tattoos and my Oklahoma shirt that I got in the airport years ago on my first solo traveling adventure, I cannot wait to see what God’s going to do next. I still have fears, and insecurities, and doubts, but the excitement far outweighs it all.

Anyway, all this to say… Love yourself. But not in the way the world tells you to. Keep going on adventures. Keep being spontaneous. Never stop exploring. And let God lead.

 

 

 

 

One Single Thing (Me)

March 4th, 2018. This is the year I turn 25. The year I wanted to be married by. Had my previous (and only) relationship worked out, I’d be just a few months away from celebrating our one year anniversary. But, alas, here I am. Single, living with an older lady from my church, spending my days working at an eye clinic and going to the gym, primarily.

I gotta be real with you all. I’m frustrated. I’m lonely. I am NOT desperate, ready to fall for any guy who looks my way, however. Quite the opposite. My best friend/man I almost married is still my closest friend and continues to be such a fabulous example of what I desire in a spouse. Just yesterday we were watching a movie and the characters were talking about failed relationships, he turned to me and asked, “Do you consider our courtship a failed relationship?”

No. I don’t. We did everything right, our relationship was and is still healthy, God honoring, and we would have made an amazing couple had we gotten married. The only reason we did not is because he feels called to be single. Our courtship did not end in marriage, but it was not a failure. We both sought God, learned about one another and ourselves, and when it ended, we continued to honor God by maintaining a love and respect for one another that I have not seen between “exes” before.

Because of that, my expectations, hopes, dreams, requirements, and standards for a man have gotten higher. Now that I know there is such a thing as a man who loves Jesus more than me, who loves me selflessly and choses to protect my heart over satisfying his own desires, I cannot and will not settle for less.

And I am frustrated. Because men like that are so rare. Or at least, it appears that way. My heart aches to share life with someone, to have someone to snuggle up in bed with after long day and just be with.

Someone who enjoys going grocery shopping on the weekends and considers that a fun day out together.

Who loves to cook with me, and doesn’t get frustrated with me when I can’t remember what ingredients I just read on the recipe and have to reread it a dozen times.

Someone who knows how important snuggling is to me, and knows that when I’m mad or frustrated with life, cuddles are always the answer.

Someone who randomly starts singing in the car even when he doesn’t remember the real lyrics, and the radio isn’t even on.

Someone who knows more scripture by heart than I do, and doesn’t act superior because of it.

Someone who doesn’t mind me sending him texts throughout the day about inconsequential things that I thought were interesting (That in hindsight aren’t actually that interesting).

Someone who sets boundaries and sticks to them no matter what, honors his commitments, and doesn’t make empty promises.

Someone who knows that showing emotions is a sign of strength, not weakness, and loves people openly without shame.

Someone who calls me beautiful, and loves me for who I am as a person. But also calls me a hot chick, thinks my body is a treasure, something to be respected and appreciated, and refuses to indulge it in until we are married.

Maybe my expectations are too high. But I know one man who meets them. And I’d rather be alone than settle for less.

 

Broken for a broken world

It stinks that if I’m out by myself and am approached by a man, my first instinct is to be defensive and protect myself. I’m not a feminist by any measure, and I have at least two male friends who have been sexually assaulted, this isn’t a male vs female issue. It’s a heart issue.

And boy, does it break mine. I wish I lived in a world that allowed us to openly trust one another without fear.

Welcome to February

Hello, and welcome to February. Or, as I prefer to call it, my least favorite month of the year.

Nooo, not just because of Single’s Awareness Day, though that does weigh in on my distaste for the month of February. Allow me to list my reasons.

1. Christmas is over. But it is still bitterly cold. Still. Why. Do I still have toes? I haven’t felt them in months.
2. Valentine’s Day. Pink. Everywhere. Ugly, pepto pink. And fluffy, useless teddy bears and things that I secretly would still be happy to receive from an admirer if such an admirer existed.
3. The new year has begun, but I still can’t correctly write the date. On anything. Help.
4. The gym is still packed with Resolutioner’s who have not yet given up. Give ’em one more month, then my favorite elliptical might actually be mine yet again.
5. February 16th is my mom’s birthday. She would have been 51 this year. For those of you who are new to me and my blog, she passed away on Nov. 22, 2014 at the age of 47 from a rare incurable disease called Polymyositis (Polly-my-O-site-us). An autoimmune disorder that attacks the lungs and muscles.

This month is just kind of a downer for me. As my dad, by God’s grace, is married to my awesome step mom Polly, no longer do I get my Valentine’s Day dates with my dad the way I did growing up and after my mom passed. I have never had a Valentine’s Day while in any kind of relationship. My 6 month courtship with my best friend Peter began in March and ended in September, and even then, Peter is not one to celebrate any holidays really. His culture (Chinese) only really acknowledge Chinese New Year, beyond that they don’t celebrate much. Which is fine. Being with him would have been enough, he’s pretty awesome. But, that relationship is purely platonic now. Valentine’s Day would be a great distraction from the other downsides of this month, if I had someone to celebrate it with.

Tuesday, my dad was hospitalized with a massive kidney stone and had to have surgery. This is his 13th kidney stone, and the largest one yet apparently.

My best friend Peter just moved to a new apartment which is farther away and much smaller than his previous place. Also, his car died, and he now has no vehicle and is using Uber and Lyft to get to work. $$Yikes$$

My other best friend Jonathan is technically homeless, couch surfing and trying desperately to find a decent paying job whilst also not having a vehicle because his motorcycle is having a very expensive repair done. Again, $$Yikes$$

My car insurance dropped me, because I am on the same plan with my step-siblings and they have had a ridiculous number of incidents over the last three years. So my insurance is about to drastically go up.

I am currently 24 years old, will be 25 in July. Marking my very last year of being on my dad’s health insurance plan. Just one year before I have to take a pay cut because the government forces us to have health insurance. Yayyy.

I’m tired. I’m stressed. I’m lonely. Did I mention 25 has been the age I always wanted to be married by? Yeah…. I’ve got 6 months. Not gunna happen.

*sigh* Anyway. Sorry to be a downer. But that’s my February for you… Hope everyone else is having a better one than I am.

Side note, I know others have it worse than me. A childhood friend of mine who is just a year or two older than me just lost her husband of two years to cancer. My heart absolutely breaks for her. I do not pretend to understand how she must be feeling. Her name is Joyce, please include her in your prayers. She needs it.

Unofendable

🚨 Rant Alert 🚨

Actual conversation I had today on Instagram with an undisclosed stranger:

Me: “Your body is exquisitely beautiful, too beautiful, in fact, to be given away for free. Which is why it saddens me to see gorgeous women post scantily clad or nude photos of themselves. You’re worth so much more.”

Them: “How dare you disrespect me! I graduated from ____ school of art! You’re making me feel uncomfortable! I am offended!”

So. I basically said you’re way too beautiful to be given away for free to the world, you’re worth so much more than that and this world doesn’t deserve you for free…. And that is offensive.

This is how our culture responds to truth. “OH, my feelings!!” Not all the time, but most times, “I’m offended” can be translated to “You made my conscience feel convicted and I’m not ready for a paradigm shift so I’m copping out of this discussion that endangers my lifestyle!”

Just a reminder to my fellow Jesus Freaks. When you walk in the truth, you cannot, should not, be offended by any slander thrown your way. Jesus promised that the world will hate us. We must be unoffendable. When you walk in the light, you no longer need to fear the dark.

Is Your Purity Lost?