I was born for romantic love, Sunday family barbecues, kisses, quality time, lying on the chest of the person I love, little gestures, feeling deeply, all of it.
It was 8 PM on a Friday, and my partner was dead asleep on the living room sofa, still in his work clothes.
I was on FaceTime with a friend who was getting ready for a massive night out. She asked what my weekend plans were, and I flipped the camera to show him resting.
She sighed, doing her makeup. “Girl, doesn't it bother you? You’re young, it's Friday, and you're just watching a man sleep. You deserve the princess treatment. If he really wanted to take you out and show you off, he would.”
I looked at him. I looked at the dark circles under his eyes and the laptop still open on the coffee table.
What my friend didn’t see was that earlier that week, he had quietly taken over two of my biggest bills so I could afford to take a lower-paying job that I actually loved. He had been pulling 14-hour days for months, absorbing all the financial pressure so I could finally breathe.
I didn’t argue with her. I just calmly said,
“He is giving me the soft life. The soft life is me waking up without panic because he goes to war every single day. I’m not going to punish him for returning from that war exhausted.”
The line got quiet. I told her to have fun, hung up, and draped a blanket over him.
The internet has completely warped our idea of what love looks like. It has convinced women that "princess treatment" means endless aesthetic dates, constant entertainment, and a partner who operates with infinite energy.
But a man cannot simultaneously be in the trenches securing your absolute safety, and have the carefree energy of a guy with zero responsibilities.
I realized that night: The ultimate luxury isn't a man who takes you out to be seen. It’s a man who makes your life so incredibly secure that fiercely protecting his rest becomes your biggest priority.
I own a small bakery. We aren’t famous, but we pay the bills. Last Tuesday, a woman came in. She was gripping her purse so tight her knuckles were white. She looked at the display case for a long time—too long. She pointed to the smallest plain vanilla cupcake we had. 'Just that one, please,' she whispered. 'Could you… could you put a tiny candle on it? It’s my daughter’s 6th birthday.' I looked at her shoes. They were wet. It was raining outside, and she had walked here. I looked at her eyes. Red-rimmed. I knew that look. It’s the look of a parent who has to choose between rent and a party. 'I’m sorry,' I said, putting on my best acting face. 'I actually have a huge problem. See this 8-inch chocolate cake with the unicorn frosting?' She looked at the expensive cake on the counter. 'My new decorator messed it up,' I lied. 'The icing is… uh… uneven. I can’t sell it. I was about to throw it in the trash. Would you do me a favor and take it off my hands? No charge. It saves me the guilt of wasting food.' She stared at me. She knew. The icing was perfect. She started to cry, right there in front of the croissant tray. 'Are you sure?' she asked. 'Please,' I insisted. 'You’re doing me a favor.' She walked out with a cake that would have cost $65, holding it like it was gold. Yesterday, I found a card slid under my door. It was a drawing from a 6-year-old girl. A unicorn with a big smile. And in wobbly crayon letters: 'Thank you for making my mommy happy.' Best profit I’ve made all year.
Credit:- @Reform_West
I am not marrying a man who does not believe in God, in Jesus, and in the importance of fellowship. I will not marry outside my faith. A man who cannot pray cannot be my husband. Never!
Nothing is sexier than a man who knows what he wants and chooses you loudly. Morning calls.Good night messages.Quick replies. No mind games. No leaving you guessing. He gives time, attention, effort, and money. He makes you feel safe, valued, and noticed. And when he's committed, he's all in, on you and you alone.
Y'all get irritated with people fast because y'all parents did the same with you. Y'all can't communicate because y'all parents couldn't. Y'all think yelling and being aggressive every time you disagree with something is okay because y'all parents yelled and got hostile when they didn't like something you did. Your environment growing up definitely made you the person you are today, you gonna continue the vicious cycle or become the difference?