There’s a moment I keep coming back to.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t life-changing on the surface.

But it shifted something deep in my heart—and maybe even whispered to my future.

A few years ago, I was at a ski resort in California with my boys.

We were checking out at a grocery store—nothing wild, just normal, happy, slightly rambunctious kids being themselves.

And standing in the line next to us was a man.

Tall. Caucasian. Handsome, in that happy energy kind of way.

The kind of face that smiles even when it’s resting—because you can tell the heart behind it is kind.

My boys were giggling and bumping into each other as we unloaded groceries.

And he looked at them—not with annoyance or judgment,

but with warmth.

With playfulness.

He smiled at them and even shifted his body in a mock “ready to play” stance—

the way a man does when he naturally likes children,

when it’s effortless for him,

when their energy feels good, not like an inconvenience.

And I remember thinking:

“That’s the kind of man I want.

That’s the kind of heart I want beside me.”

At the time, I was still entangled in a relationship with Mark that didn’t look or feel anything like that.

I was with a man who froze around children.

A man who didn’t know how to bend down and meet a child’s gaze.

A man who saw family life as something to tolerate, not something to cherish.

A man who could sit awkwardly in a living room full of life and say… nothing.

But even then, even stuck in old patterns, my soul recognized the difference.

My soul said:

“This is what love should feel like.

Not distance. Not tension.

Not tolerance—but joy.”

And now?

Now I’m living in a way that aligns with that knowing.

Now I’m building a life where love doesn’t have to be strained out of silence,

where connection isn’t forced,

where the next chapter—when it arrives—will meet me in joy, not in wounds.

The man I end up with?

He will be like that man in the grocery store.

• Naturally good with children.
• A face that smiles easily and often.
• A heart that radiates warmth without effort.
• A life already rooted in love, not waiting to be saved by it.

Healing doesn’t just change who you are.

It changes what you recognize.

I’m no longer mistaking emotional detachment for strength.

I’m no longer staying frozen beside men who can’t meet the very best parts of life.

Now, I’m waiting for the man whose heart smiles first—

whose love is playful, steady, and true.

And this time?

When I see him, I won’t just wonder.

I’ll know.

And I’ll choose him—

because now I finally know how to choose myself.