To Find Her.

I went there to find her.

Her…

The girl he left me for.

Self-sabotage, maybe not at it’s best, but 

definitely a hell of a shot.

But what would I do once I saw her?

Pretend to shop while glancing at her beautiful blonde hair?

Notice how young and radiant she was?

Study her curves?

Touch my thighs while staring at her toned muscles?

Admire her clear complexion and then break the bank trying to buy her entire skin routine?

And all the while, my face turns red and tears form as she comes to ask me if I’m okay and if I need help finding something, because of course, she’s a sweetheart.

And that would be it… the moment I would convince myself that he was right.

That he made the better choice after I picked every inch of myself apart… after I questioned God’s design of me.

I went there to find her.

Her…

The girl he left me for.

Self-sabotage, maybe not at it’s best, but 

definitely a hell of a shot.

And as I turned the corner a sign on the door read, “Closed.”

“What, Closed?!”

I pushed on it, trying to open the door anyway, but it was locked.

And maybe, just maybe, the absence of her was delivered on behalf of something more.

Self love, perhaps.

Yes…

Oh, how she met me with mercy, grace and forgiveness in spite of my cruelty.

How cruel I’ve been!

I hid her behind the monster of comparison.

I hid her underneath the lie of being unlovable.

With a deep inhale and an even slower exhale. I let go of the knob and realized that just because God ends a chapter, it doesn’t mean He’s done with our story.

And just because God closes a door, it doesn’t mean we’re unworthy or that it’s entirely our loss.

So, let it close.

Let it be locked.

Double check the lock if you must, but then…

Let yourself walk away.

Let them walk away.

Let yourself shed tears of proof that it hurts like hell on the steps guiding you away from that locked, closed door.

Do what you must, but allow yourself to feel deeply and get to the truth of it.

Cry.

Pray.

Practice Christlike love for yourself and others and let’s grow in just that, more love.

More love for our afflictions, more love for our faith, more love for God’s plan, more love for His creation and more love for ourselves, so we can love who God created us to be.

To the girl he left me for, and also to myself, I am sorry…

…I am so sorry for believing that your beauty took away from my own.

You are beautiful and lovable, and there is enough room for me to be too.

I went there to find her.

Her…

The girl I lost in the midst of comparison.

And there she was… with tears falling down her cheeks, staring at her reflection in the window by the closed, locked door.

I found her.

Her…

The girl Jesus died for.

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❤️

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