My prayer for 2026 is to get off God’s strongest soldiers list, because baby… this week dragged me through bootcamp. It was jam-packed with lessons on lessons on lessons—ending with me ugly crying in my Benz with rain pouring down. Cue the dramatics, but also? It was necessary.

Let me be clear: when you’re an empath, you feel everything. I can read between the lines of what people say and don’t say, and I can feel their intentions almost instantly. Sometimes it hits me right away, but most times it hits later—when I’m alone, processing. And whew… this week tested my spirit.

My drives to and from work are when I get real with myself. That’s where I realized: I tried to teach someone a lesson they weren’t ready to learn. And of course, it backfired. Someone who is inconsiderate and only thinks of themselves cannot be taught until they decide they’re ready. The lesson went right over their head—and I still had to clean up the mess.

Who am I to think I can do God’s job? I’m a spiritual being having a human experience, just like everyone else. Not everyone is as accountable or self-aware as I am on this healing journey. That doesn’t give me authority to make anyone see their faults. I can only control me.

Mindset 101:

Never let your emotions be the cause of your actions.

And the real lesson? Mind your own fucking business.

The Dating Lesson: Mr. Twenty-Fine Exits the Chat

Wheww… this part was heavy.

My favorite on my little dating roster was not showing up the way I thought he would. Mr. Twenty-Fine has officially left the chat. And yes, I saw it coming. I just didn’t want to accept it.

When I tell you that man is fine? I mean FINE. Physically? My exact type. And he made me feel sexy in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. Three years into my celibacy journey and baby… the desire is still there even if the action is not.

He was the spark, but there was no flame.

We went from hot and heavy to dry and fragile real quick. And in that shift, I realized I want more. I am a lover girl through and through. No matter how many times I get hurt or ghosted, my soft girl always comes back.

I deserve depth. Connection. Intention. Consistency. Not surface-level crumbs.

When I switched from spicy to soulful, he couldn’t follow. That’s when I knew: this was chemistry, not connection.

After a few silent days, I reached out. I told him what I wanted moving forward—depth, consistency, real connection along with the spice. But here’s the part I ignored: he told me in the beginning what he wanted. Fun. Short-term. Light. Flirty.

And he stayed consistent with that, even inside a thoughtful response.

We agreed that if things changed, we’d talk again. And then? He disappeared. Four days of silence. And I kept repeating:

If he wanted to, he would.

If he wanted to talk, he would.

If he wanted to plan the date, he would.

If he wanted me, he would.

And he didn’t.

So I planned a solo date to pour back into myself.

Because the same energy I was pouring out trying to be chosen, seen, and desired… I was losing grip on my own reality. I needed to nurture me.

I am the prize.

I prayed this week for God to remove what’s not for me—and baby, He moved quick. I reached out with a simple “hey?!” and got hit with:

“I’m not feeling it anymore… I’m not ready… I can’t give you what you want.”

My reply? “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

But inside, reality hit like a ton of bricks.

The Real Purge: It Wasn’t About Him

It wasn’t really about him. He was the catalyst.

He represented the last remnants of a version of me I’m actively shedding:

the anxious attachment

the fantasy, not the reality

overgiving and overexplaining

romanticizing scraps

seeing potential instead of the person

making men emotionally bigger than they are

wanting so badly to finally be chosen

He cracked me open just enough for Spirit to come in and clean house.

Breakdown → Breakthrough

After my solo paint-and-sip date, the sangria hit harder than the lesson. I walked into pouring rain, checked my phone, and saw I’d been deleted off social.

I lost it.

Not because of him deleting me… but because it felt like I was being erased.

I sat in my car—my big body Benz I worked my ass off for—and cried. Not the cute cry. The ugly cry. The purging cry. The “I’m tired of this cycle” cry.

And honestly? It was divine.

Because healing doesn’t mean you don’t hurt.

Healing means you recover faster.

Spirit was loud this entire week. From the static electricity in everything I touched, to Summer Walker’s “1800-HEARTBREAKLINE” playing as I walked to my car, to the rain pouring down the same moment my tears needed to fall.

What my mind wanted to hold onto, my soul released.

Temptation always shows up when you’re breaking cycles. But choosing yourself shifts everything immediately. I processed the whole thing in under 24 hours.

That’s not heartbreak.

That’s reclaiming my power and creating my own closure.

Mantra: I am worthy. I am becoming. I am aligned with everything meant for me.

Healing is not meant to look perfect- it’s meant to make you powerful. Every tear, purge, every moment you feel like breaking is carving you into the divine being you prayed to become. Trust the process. Trust your growth. Trust the divine timing that holds you.

Asé

Just as Mr. Twenty-Fine walked in, I think he’s walking right back out.

Let me explain…

The Match That Sparked It All

I get a notification of a new match — it’s him. Mr. Twenty-Fine. He’s 25 (if you didn’t catch that), and I’m thirty, flirty, and thriving!

We start chatting, and things feel easy. The messages are consistent, the energy light. But one thing about me — I hate small talk. I want to know your deep dark secrets, what turns you on, your goals, your fears, how you’re healing your trauma. Because let’s be real — we all have it, and it takes real work to grow beyond it.

Early Signs I Overlooked

We talk about what brought us to the Hinge app. I tell him I’ve been on a long healing journey, mostly working and staying to myself, but I’m ready to open up again to dating. Then I ask if me being a mom and a little older is a dealbreaker.

His response? “If it’s okay with you?” and something vague about being busy. It didn’t really answer my question, but I brushed it off.

When I asked what he does to unwind, he said he loves fitness and cooking — points for that. And I’ll admit it: the man looks good. Muscular, confident, sexy. Then he hits me with, “We can do some cardio together,” quickly followed by “joking.” But that was his vibe check — to see how far I’d go.

And yes, I fell into it.

When Flirtation Took the Wheel

I flirted back: “Don’t tempt me with a good time. I’ve been celibate for three years — think you can be the one to break it?”

From there, it went from zero to spicy real fast. But later, I tried to shift the energy and asked what brought him to the app.

His answer?

“I don’t mind that you’re older. I’m open to seeing where things go, but I don’t mind some long-term fun either.”

Translation: he wanted something casual.

And honestly, he was transparent. He told me what it was — I just ignored it because I felt a spark.

We talked every day, all day, while he was at work and me too. He gave me just enough emotional connection to keep me hooked. Looking back, it was mirroring — he reflected my openness, not his own depth. When I shifted from flirty to real, his energy faded.

That’s when clarity hit.

The Lesson Beneath the Lust

Was I upset? Not at all. He showed me exactly where he stood — and in doing that, he showed me where I still had more healing to do.

Flirty talk wasn’t feeding my spirit anymore. I’m a spiritual baddie with a sensual side, and this was a test. In my younger days, I would’ve jumped in without hesitation. But now, as a woman who’s healing and evolving, I had to pause and ask:

Why was I so willing to end my celibacy for him?

Was it loneliness? Desire? Shame? Guilt?

That’s when I started unpacking what celibacy and abstinence really mean.

Celibacy vs. Abstinence

Celibacy

Celibacy is a conscious choice to refrain from sexual activity for an extended or indefinite period of time — often rooted in spiritual or emotional healing. It’s not just “not having sex”; it’s about reclaiming your energy, gaining self-mastery, and deepening clarity. Celibacy can be a vow, or a season of restoration and alignment.

Abstinence

Abstinence, on the other hand, is more temporary — a purposeful pause. It’s about stepping back to reflect on desire, boundaries, and what intimacy truly means.

In short: Celibacy is a spiritual commitment. Abstinence is an intentional pause.

My Truth Today

I realized I had been trying to fit into one label or the other — just like I used to question whether I could be spiritual and sexual at the same time.

But now I know: it’s my choice.

My body, my rules.

I began this journey to reclaim my energy, power, and emotional awareness — and I’ve done that. Wanting intimacy again doesn’t mean I’ve “fallen off.” That guilty voice in my head was lying. Being spiritual and sensual can coexist.

It’s not about being “pure” — it’s about being intentional. Pleasure can be sacred, creative, and healing. I no longer fear that part of myself.

Breaking my celibacy will happen on my terms — not from distraction or temptation, but from alignment and choice.

And for that, I thank Mr. Twenty-Fine. Not for the flirtation — but for being the mirror that helped me see myself clearly again.

Now I move with intention, power, and trust — not rushing or resisting, just aligning.

Affirmation

“I’m learning that healing isn’t about denying who I am — it’s about becoming whole.”

Asé

I just want to make this blatantly clear: I am a mother. A mommy. A mamacita! Insert Huda telling Nic from Love Island clip here.

Now that we got that out of the way, let me give a little insight on why I’ve been pondering this question so hard this past week.

I am online dating. Yes, I know — yikes. Run and hide from the humiliation and be prepared to deal with all the wild that’s out here on these dating app streets. Trust me, been there, done that. Now moving on from the cringe that is dating apps…

Imagine this: I match with this guy — let’s call him my pen pal. Conversation on and off, nothing serious, no deep connection, just surface-level stuff. There is no “right time” to tell a man that you’re a mom. So with him, I never did.

A few months go by — still the same on-and-off, basic chatting. Then he messages me, we exchange WhatsApp, and start talking about my night and cooking dinner. I told him I made some teriyaki wings, and he said, “Did you cook them yourself?” But when I read it, I thought he said, “Did you cook for yourself?” So I was like, boom — here’s my opportunity.

I said, “Yeah, I cooked it myself for me and my daughter. Is that a dealbreaker for you?”

This man says it made meeting up even harder (hence the pen pal nickname — he’s not only out of state but out of the country; that’s a story for another time about why we even matched in the first place). He said he thought I could just up and leave to come see him. One, that was never discussed, nor did I know I’d be the one doing the traveling.

Then he continues with, “You have so many things that are dealbreakers, but having kids wasn’t one of them.” He was more bummed about me living so far away. Then he hit me with the last devastating blow: “But it’s okay though, I see you more as a pen pal now, which is cool.”

I had to double back on that “you have so many things that are dealbreakers” part. He went on to explain that it wasn’t “so many,” just that there were things I could’ve said at the start — and that it would’ve been better that way. But it was fine, he’d accepted it now.

Honestly, I didn’t get defensive. I said that was fair — because it was. I definitely could’ve found a way to say it earlier, just like I told him I lived in the U.S. and not the U.K. There was the same opportunity to say I’m a mama!

But I think there was still some level of projection coming from him. Maybe he really did have feelings for me, but with the distance — and now the mom bomb — it just sent him over the edge. He continued to see me as unattainable, and maybe that stung. Or maybe I really did wait too long to tell him, and he had a right to feel how he felt.

Either way, I learned something from it.

So now I’m left with the thought: When is the right time to tell a man you’re a mom?

I made a post on TikTok (@Evolvewithnelle) asking the same question, giving the same details, and I got the same response back — “TELL THAT MAN IMMEDIATELY!”

So that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.

To be quite honest, I haven’t had a bad experience besides this one. I’ve told all the other guys I’ve matched with, and the conversations have continued with ease. But I think why this one sat with me so hard is because, as women, there are so many layers to this.

Now as mothers, we love our kids — they’re our pride and joy — but to some men, it can come across as baggage. As complications. My life isn’t as free-ranged as other single women who don’t have kids.

And on a deeper level, it’s that fear of rejection — that past version of myself that just craved to be liked and chosen by anyone and everyone. I sat with her and let her rear her little head. Once she was done, I talked it out with my built-in bestie and free therapist (ChatGPT, obviously).

That old version of me was the overly accommodating people-pleaser — the one searching for love, validation, and acceptance from men. She thought she had to tiptoe around the truth because being a mom might make her “too much.”

However, the woman I am today doesn’t give one flying fuck.

Me and my daughter are a packaged deal. Any man that wants to be part of my life has to accept the mother in me, too. My time is sacred, my peace is earned, and I refuse to waste my energy on anyone who can’t see the value in who I am and everything I nurture.

Because the truth is, being a mom taught me how to love differently. My heart doesn’t chase anymore; it chooses. My peace costs more now. My softness, my energy, my love — they all have purpose. I’m not auditioning for love anymore; I’m protecting the home I’ve already built inside me and for her.

Sometimes we get dealt a shit hand, but it’s what we do with it that really matters.

So, to answer my own burning question — when is the right time to tell a man I’m a mom?

When I feel comfortable to.

I still think it’s important to do it sooner rather than later, to avoid any more “pen pal” situations. But it’s not about fear anymore — it’s about being proud of who I am.

And with that… in walks Mr. Twenty-Fine.

Well, here we are! Let’s just get one thing straight right off the bat — I am no professional writer. There will be errors, misspellings, wrong grammar, and cussin’. But one thing I do know is that I’ll be showing up here as my true, authentic self.

However the words and flow come out is exactly how I’d say them. I do plan to grow as I go — this is my Carrie Bradshaw writer era, baby. What did Doechii say in Nissan Altima?

“I’m like Carrie Bradshaw with a back brace on,

I been carrying you bitches now for way too long.”

Yeah, something like that.

The funny thing about all this is that I actually had a vision of starting a blog back in 2024. I even made a Reddit page but never figured out how to set it up or post anything. I let that dream die out — or so I thought. Fast forward nine months later, I had a whole baby. And here she is: Diary of a Self-Lover.

Now that we got that out of the way, let me formally introduce myself. My name is Shenelle, and I’m 30 years old. (Yikes, I still can’t believe I’m in my 30s — but I digress.)

I am a survivor of a narcissistic, abusive marriage. From that experience came the absolute best gift: my beautiful, sassy, independent 3-year-old (going on 13) daughter. During my healing journey, I prayed for the life I wanted for her and me after such a traumatic chapter — one we’re still navigating, honestly. My priority is protecting her peace in every way I can.

I’ve chosen to share pieces of my life and experiences for others to read, see, and connect with — but that doesn’t mean my daughter has to be subjected to that exposure. What I share of her is exactly that — what I choose to share.

Moving onward… I’m a spiritual baddie navigating life as a woman connected to the Most High, God, my ancestors, spirit guides, the moon, and the stars — all of the damn above. All while mothering, healing, breaking generational cycles, and figuring out how to channel all these spiritual gifts oozing out of my mind, body, and spirit.

It’s all so new to me, and it gets overwhelming sometimes trying to balance it all. So, I journaled. I got a therapist. Then I got dumped by my therapist (yeah, that happened). And now, I’ve basically taken up ChatGPT in her place — and here I am.

I’m a lover girl who still believes in love — but now I have self-worth. Finding myself for the first time in my life has changed everything. I have boundaries. I no longer people-please to be chosen. I’ve put all the love I used to chase from family, friends, and men back into me.

Now, when I catch myself attaching to any form of external validation, I stop, reclaim that energy, and ask myself what triggered me in the first place.

I go through so much shit in my life — and trust me, we’ll talk about it all in real time.

As for my career, I’m in the healthcare field. I always knew I wanted to help people, but before my spiritual awakening, I thought that meant through medicine. And while I love what I do, it doesn’t feel completely fulfilling.

I’ve thought about becoming a personal trainer because of my fitness journey — but that didn’t quite fit either. I even considered becoming a narcissistic abuse life coach, but that still didn’t feel exactly right.

So right now, I’m just showing up as me — sharing all the different aspects of who I am and seeing where it all leads. Because every time I share my story, I get the same response: people connect. Whether they comment, DM, or silently follow along, they see themselves in me.

And that’s powerful. I’ve helped so many women start their healing journey and remember who the fuck they are — and that means everything to me.

I think that’s enough yapping for my intro! I just want to take a moment to thank myself for believing in me and finding a way to make this dream come true.

And to you — thank you for reading my first blog post. Here’s to many more to come.

Asé.