I’ve purposely shied away from writing in this blog space as frequently as I’ve done in the past because I know the level of vulnerability that it requires from me.
Even after 15 years of writing to you in this blog space, I still get nervous when I know I’m sharing something real and deep.
But after the last few months I’ve had and the kindness of God that I’ve experienced, I had to share.
So many of you have rocked with me since the beginning of this blog. And some of you may be reading my work for the first time. Welcome.
Raised in a loving home with a New Yorker and plenty of women around who knew how to speak their mind and keep it real, that’s the only way I know how to live and to be.
But being raw and real is slightly different than being vulnerable.
Bravely showing my weakness and the places I don’t want anyone to know where I’ve failed has taken practice through my entire adult life.
This year, in my somatic coaching training, I was required as a coach to be coached myself and to bring real issues to my coaching time. Little did I know that it was a divine set-up by God.
I thought I was just in my coaching certification program to “learn stuff” and “do stuff” for others. But the “Stuff” was being done to me and I spent the first 7 months of this year unpacking my greatest fears when it comes to being known, seen, and in a relationship with a man.
Let’s get it all out there once again.
I’m a virgin.
You read that right. I wrote this blog post years ago, detailing my journey as a “Unicorn”.
Honestly, I don’t know how I’ve made it this far being one. It was kind of planned when I was a teen, then not at-all planned, then planned again.
As I was being coached by one of my coaching peers early this year, she listened to my heart and my body language as I shared some personal struggles. She then asked permission to share something with me.
I gave her permission to do so.
And then she simply said:
“You can be safe and vulnerable.”
That phrase hit me like thunder underwater.
“You can be safe and vulnerable.”
I started to weep.
It’s what my heart and body needed to hear and knew its truth when it was said out loud over me.
There have been incredible revelations that I’ve been experiencing through my work as a somatic coach and somatic-informed film educator.
Stories.
Metaphors.
These things are vibrant and current in both my work as a coach and film professor. Stories & Metaphors.
The story I was telling myself for years is that I could not trust my own choices, especially when it came to men.
I had made some pretty bad choices in regards to previous crushes, friendships and 1 of 2 boyfriends that I’ve had in my entire life. And I remained guarded.
My one-on-one session with a Christian dating coach this Summer and Fall is unfolding in a frustrating way.
Not that I thought that I would be married after 1 week of working with her, but I thought that I would be married after 2 weeks of working with her.
I kept subtly whispering to God:
“I’ve done my work, my inner healing, my heart work. Why do I still have to wait? What is my future husband really doing? Is he holding this whole thing up? Am I just waiting until he gets out of a bad relationship?...”
Little did I know that it wasn’t so much the speck in another’s eye but the log in mine.
After feeling as though I hit a major wall with my dating coach, I asked God in one of my quiet times a couple weeks ago, “What’s really going on with me?”
And after I read my chapter in Ezekiel (In my opinion, one of the least coziest books in the Bible), it was as clear as day as God whispered to my heart.
Sidenote, a few days prior I had read in Ezekiel 11:19 about God giving a heart of flesh to replace the heart of stone that had developed in His people.
This is what was as clear as day, the Kind whispers of these words:
“Patrice, you have a dangerous mixture of pride and self-pity.”
It was a thought that I had never had before, and it was delivered with such kindness.
I knew it’s truth when it arose in my mind.
We talk about pride a lot in our faith circles and its dangers, but I don’t think we talk about the snares and dangers of self-pity.
A lowly position of oneself. Thinking that you are doing everything alone, when God has explicitly said that He is the God with us, always (“Emmanuel”) “Excessive, self-absorbed unhappiness and self-centered sorrow.” (Credit: Oxford Dictionary & Google)
Self-pity can really trip us up.
The lie I kept telling myself and believing, is that a “Man like that, would never want a woman like me.”
And God so kindly interrupted that lie.
He called for compassion.
For me to have compassion on myself and to speak and believe the truth. Firmly.
This wasn’t a suggestion.
I had a beautiful moment of repentance.
And with naming my self-pity OUT LOUD, my pride wall began to crumble in new ways.
I could see possibilities again, because those possibilities weren’t merely dependent on my effort or my own finite beauty, but on God’s miraculous timing and miracle working power. I had seen too much in my life to back down now.
So as self-pity was exposed, I was surprised to find a connected root system to my lie…
Shame.
I’ve worked through shame before in different areas of my life, but the theme that kept coming up in my sessions with my dating coach was my age.
I kept saying that I loved my age, but underneath that statement was a layer of shame.
Most of the guys that I connect with are younger than me. By at least a decade.
As you may have seen, most of the guys I dance with are younger than me as well.
Each year, in either a social media post or a blog post here, I remind myself and the world of my true age.
But my coach said something to me last week. And I know it shouldn’t have shocked me, but it did, which shed light on the area of my heart stuck in disbelief and unbelief.
“And for you, your husband's gonna love that you're 43. He's gonna love that you are where you are in life. And he's probably not looking for someone younger. He's just looking for someone to fall in love with. And he's gonna fall in love with your passion and your energy and your vibe and your beauty.”
Yes. I cried.
And yes, y’all, this is why the work of a coach is so vital in my life. I’m not out here solo-dolo. I need encouragement daily, just like you do.
Oh, and yes, let’s not skip over my age. I’m 43. And next year I’ll be 44.
For some of you, you’ll want to know my skincare routine (DM me, I’ll let you know – Ha!)
For others, you may still be in shock especially in light of my opening paragraphs.
And for the guys who are romantically curious about me and doing their due diligence of social media and internet stalkery, you may be doing this face right about now:
To those lovely gentlemen: If you feel uncomfortable or intimidated regarding my age, don’t worry, you are most likely not my man. And that’s okay.
In real life, at country dancehalls, I have a hard time discerning how old guys are. I’m a multi-generational gal. And I’m around guys from ages 21-71.
BUT I can usually tell which guys are under 34 years old, as they are quick to ask about my age within either the first or second conversation. My reasoning is that they want to make sure I’m within the baby-making age range, which if I’m honest, is still a tender area for me. I’d love to have kids through my own body, but as I get older, I’m not sure what God has in store in this area for me. And I’m praying that my future husband is open and sensitive to my heart on the matter and also believes in the miracle-working nature of our God.
Many of the guys I meet who are around my age, are either married, tired, or on a different life path than I am. But my heart wants to stay open. However, the consensus is that my future man will most likely be younger than me. And how do I feel about that?
I’m starting to feel better about it.
But honestly, I was worried how you would feel about it.
This year, I’ve dated a spectrum of age ranges. From 26 to 50.
My mom was not a fan of the 50 year old (“Does he even have any sperm left?”- Ma Dukes)
But through it all, my heart remained open.
God you can do anything.
But as the Lord revealed a new place of healing, watering and nurturing that needed to take place in the garden of my heart these past couple of weeks, I was invited to stop discounting myself, stop being ashamed of my age, and stop being embarrassed that I tend to attract guys who are 10+ years younger than I am.
I am still fearfully and wonderfully made.
I am beautiful and worthy of love.
And the man that God has for me, the man who I’ve been praying for since I was 17 years old will recognize something when he sees me and when he’s around me. Perhaps he’ll sense a curiosity to know more, a feeling of home and deep attraction to me, an alignment of purpose and legacy, and maybe he has a heart to build something with a partner, something that’s not just an earthly legacy, but something full of God’s love and eternal legacy.
Until then, I’m letting go of shame.
I’m embracing my vulnerability.
I’m no longer discounting myself out.
I’m letting God turn my mourning into dancing (literally).
And learning how to breathe joyfully as a single woman who is vivacious, passionate, prayerful, tender, funny, smart, wild, sassy, gentle and yesss, 43.
I’m positioned for all the love that God wants to give me. And I say yes.
This invitation is for you as well.
Where might you let go of shame, self-pity or pride?
I strongly believe there’s something glorious waiting for you on the other side.
With that in mind, I often think that God is not simply trying to bring us back to the future…but into the Garden…
Wisdom’s Knocking:
“The two of them, the Man and his Wife, were naked, but they felt no shame..”
-Genesis 2:19 (MSG)
To learn more about my work as a personal coach and how I might be able to support you, gently tap here.