Raspberry Iced M

If I am honest, I can trace most of my bad decisions back to one thing.

Not recklessness, even though that is how it all ended.
Not even rebellion, even though it looked like it.

I was trying to satisfy a need I thought I had.

I wanted to be chosen.

Not just liked. Not just accepted. Not just allowed to tag along.

Chosen. Prioritized. Wanted. Picked clearly, intentionally, and without hesitation.

That need drove more of my behavior than I realized, especially while I was making those decisions.

And the problem wasn’t the desire itself. Wanting to be chosen is human nature.

The problem lied in how I tried to meet that need.

I looked for it in the wrong places. I accepted it in forms that were not healthy. I pursued it in ways that were dishonest and in ways that compromised who I believe I am at my core. And sometimes I made decisions that created temporary feelings of being chosen at the cost of long-term stability, trust, and integrity.

And I didn’t understand that while I was doing it. I knew I wasn’t being honest with myself (and others), but the conviction I felt did not outweigh the euphoria that came with *finally* being seen and valued.

When something fills a need that deep – even temporarily – it’s easy to ignore how expensive your choices will eventually become.

Looking back, I can see the pattern more clearly. Hindsight is always 20/20. If something made me feel chosen, I moved toward it. Even if it was complicated. Even if it wasn’t right. Even if it required me to overlook things I shouldn’t have or change certain aspects of my own personality.

That’s where the mistakes came from.
Not from not knowing better.
But from wanting something so badly that I justified the wrong way of getting it.

And over time, those decisions added up. The bill arrived, past due, and trust was broken. Relationships were damaged. And I was at that point a version of myself I no longer fully recognized. And eventually, the very thing I was chasing – being chosen – felt further away than ever.

Wanting to be chosen didn’t make me wrong.
My methods did.
And no amount of explanation changes the impact of those methods.

I am learning that being chosen – the right way – looks different than I thought. It doesn’t come from chasing or proving or compromising. It comes from alignment. From being someone who lives with integrity. From making decisions I can stand behind. And from building a life that doesn’t require self-abandonment to feel wanted.

So the discomfort I sit in now is the realization that I may never be “chosen” in full by other people. The incorrect methods I used to achieve that goal had the opposite effect, and I am lonelier than I’ve ever been.

Phone’s dry.
Lunch and coffee outings are non-existent.
It’s just me…well…and the dog I got…who doesn’t understand a word I say, but at least I’m not talking to “myself.”

But I still firmly believe that the Lord works all things out for good. I believe He takes our stupidity into consideration when designing His plan for our lives. The Bible says so.

So instead of disappearing into that discomfort, or wallowing in that loneliness, I’m enduring it under the hope and assumption that it is what He thinks is best right now.

Not having friends has almost completely eliminated my desire to be chosen by other people.

Now I choose honesty. Restraint. And a version of me that isn’t driven by the urgency to present myself as someone completely different from who I am called to be.

I am choosing myself. I am choosing God’s affirmations. Because He knows I’m not perfect. And He chooses me anyway. Intentionally. I am not an afterthought or a tag-along. He doesn’t tell me I need to change in order to be accepted. And He has never – and will never – leave, no matter how many times I’ve broken His heart.

He’s not just my Father.

He’s my Friend.