Let’s start with this: Single women, You’re not crazy. You’re not asking too much.
You’ve been told to “never settle,” to “know your worth,” to be both soft and strong, sexy but modest, independent but emotionally available. You’ve been given checklists, Pinterest boards, relationship podcasts, and TikToks filled with red flags and “divine masculinity.” And through it all, somewhere deep in your soul, a single question burns:
Where is he?
The man who is strong, safe, godly, and real—the one who makes you feel chosen, not just tolerated. Who doesn’t just want your body, but your burdens. Who doesn’t just chase your beauty, but cherishes your soul.
And here’s the truth:
You’re not wrong to want him.
You’re not wrong to want a man who leads, not controls… who pursues, not plays games… who loves the Lord more than he loves your body. You are not shallow for wanting to feel feminine, protected, radiant, and adored. That’s not weakness. That’s design.
But here’s the harder truth:
Sometimes, what you want and what you’re ready for are two very different things.
Hollywood Is Not Harmless—It’s Poisoning Your Soul
Let’s name names.
Barbie (2023) tells you men are decorative morons who need to be managed or ignored. It turns a woman’s journey into a glittery rejection of biology, family, and femininity—then wraps it in faux empowerment.
Here’s the real message: You’re better off alone. Be your own man. Build your own world. Just don’t trust one.
Sex and the City taught an entire generation that endless sexual partners, gossip brunches, and career worship could fill the gaping void of intimacy.
Carrie Bradshaw was never free. She was always afraid.
And Samantha? She didn’t own her sexuality—she rented it out to avoid being truly known.
Bridgerton—let’s be honest—is soft-core porn dressed up in corsets. It tells you that passion must be wild, forbidden, emotionally unstable.
It eroticizes trauma and calls it love. It teaches you that submission to a man is hot in bed—but toxic in life.
Fifty Shades of Grey?
The reason it captivated millions of women around the world wasn’t because they wanted whips and contracts. It was because Christian Grey was decisive, dominant, self-possessed—and drawn to her alone. He protected, pursued, and provided. His power wasn’t just physical—it was directional. He knew what he wanted. And in a world of emotionally limp men and passive indecision, that kind of masculine clarity was intoxicating.
But here’s the tragedy:
The film got the longing right—but the expression deeply wrong.
It gave you a man who was strong, yes—but also emotionally broken, sexually twisted, and spiritually void.
It gave you control instead of covenant. Pleasure instead of peace. Obsession instead of safety.
And this is the devil’s favorite trick—to dress a God-given desire in counterfeit clothing.
To take your healthy hunger for a strong, safe, godly man—and feed you domination without devotion, lust without love, trauma with a tuxedo.
The subliminal message?
You can’t have strength and goodness in the same man.
You must choose: the safe guy who bores you, or the dangerous man who excites but breaks you.
But that’s a lie.
There are men who are both lions and lambs.
Men who can lead in love and stop to weep.
Men who are unshakable in crisis and tender in intimacy.
Men whose strength is not used to control you—but to cover you.
You don’t need Christian Grey.
You need a man whose strength makes you stronger, not smaller.
Whose pursuit is pure. Whose boundaries are holy. Whose power is not about chains—but about covenant.
And deep down, you know that’s what your soul is craving.
Yes, It’s Hard to Trust. Especially When You’ve Been Hurt.
Many of you have been ghosted, gaslit, manipulated, used, and discarded by men who were never taught to value your worth. Others were told to ignore their longing for love and just focus on career, self-care, or spiritual development. And still others feel this quiet ache—that if you’re too soft, you’ll be walked on, but if you’re too strong, you’ll be left behind.
That’s not paranoia. That’s trauma. And the Church hasn’t always helped.
You were taught to submit, but not how to discern. To be modest, but not how to love your body. To wait, but not what to do with your loneliness.
But hear this clearly:
Your femininity is not a liability. It’s a gift. And it needs a safe place to rest—not a pedestal to stand on, and not a battlefield to fight on.
You Want a Lion—But Can You Let Him Roar?
You say you want a masculine man. A man who leads. A man with vision, discipline, and purpose.
But are you prepared to respect him when he makes decisions you don’t agree with?
To let him lead when you’re used to doing it all yourself?
To admire him not just when he’s romantic—but when he’s resolute?
Respect is scary. It makes you vulnerable. And if you’ve been hurt, it feels impossible.
But here’s the paradox: you’ll never feel safe with a man you don’t admire. And he will never thrive beside a woman who secretly wants to be him.
You weren’t created to compete with a godly man. You were created to complete what God is doing through him—with strength, grace, and beauty.
You were told to be strong. Fierce. Focused.
To get the degree. Build the brand. Climb the ladder. Freeze your eggs if you must—but never need a man. Needing was weakness. Needing was danger.
And so you became what men were for 6,000 years: the protector, the provider, the planner, the pursuer.
You bought the house. Learned the jargon. Navigated the courtrooms, the boardrooms, the therapist’s office.
You became powerful.
And now, you’re exhausted.
And worse—you’re alone.
But no one warned you that becoming what men were… might make it harder to find the kind of man you actually want.
No one told you that while this social experiment of female empowerment rescued some women from abusive, oppressive homes—it also robbed other women of something holy: the chance to learn how to be a wife, a nurturer, a builder of homes and hearts.
Your grandmother knew how to care for her husband, raise children with grace, prepare a nourishing meal, and soften a room by walking into it.
You? You know how to manage crises, meet deadlines, crush presentations, and silence emotions.
But you weren’t trained to love.
You weren’t taught how to receive—only how to prove, perform, and protect.
So now what?
Reclaiming Femininity Is Not Regression—It’s Resurrection
You’ve been told that femininity is a trap. That serving a man is weakness. That nurturing is outdated. That wanting to be chosen, protected, and cherished somehow makes you less.
But here’s the truth:
Serving the right man is not demeaning. It’s divine.
When a man leads with love, provides with consistency, and protects with strength—you’re not submitting to oppression.
You’re responding to honor.
Femininity is not erasure. It’s not silence. It’s not fragility.
It’s power under control.
It’s the ability to create peace in chaos, softness in a hard world, and beauty in a place of scarcity.
If you want a man who will build, battle, and bless—then become a woman who brings something more to the table than opinions and expectations.
Become a woman who brings presence. Who brings calm. Who brings warmth.
You want a lion? Then don’t try to tame him—inspire him.
Start Where It Matters: Your Spirit, Your Space, Your Soil
You don’t need to abandon your education or your job.
But you do need to stop acting like femininity is a liability.
Start small. Start human. Start homeward.
- Take a cooking class – not because you’re being chained to a stove, but because feeding someone is an act of love. It’s beautiful. It’s human. It slows the world down.
- Practice hospitality – not for Instagram, but for intimacy. Invite people into your space. Light candles. Set a table. Open your heart. Let younger women come to you. Be their safe place, their wise sister, their example.
- Volunteer working with small children: learn how to be a mother from these little angels. Maybe take your little nieces and nephews out. Their mother needs a break!
- Learn emotional softness – Not everything needs a sharp edge or a clever retort. Listen more. Criticize less. Learn to say, “I believe in you,” and mean it.
- Recover beauty and modesty – Not because men can’t control themselves, but because your dignity is sacred. Men who are building legacies don’t want loud, lusty women. They want loyal, luminous ones.
Real men—kingdom men, builder men—are not drawn to masculine energy in heels.
They’re drawn to peace, joy, gentleness, mystery, and trust.
And listen:
A good man is not afraid of your strength. But he will walk away from your war if you’re always trying to out-lead, out-dominate, or out-masculine him.
You don’t need to roar louder than him.
You need to be the woman he can lay his armor down beside.
You’ve mastered the art of doing it all. Now master the grace of receiving well.
Because when you become a woman who radiates both humility and confidence, who creates space for a man to lead, protect, and bless—
You won’t have to beg for pursuit.
You’ll inspire it.
You Can Be Soft Again—And Still Be Strong
You’ve mastered strength. But can you rediscover trust?
You’ve survived the jungle. But can you create a garden?
Because when you do—when you walk with confidence and kindness, with excellence and emotional depth—you won’t have to chase a good man.
He will find you.
Because he’s been looking for a woman who reminds him of heaven—not another battlefield.
What If the Man You’re Waiting For Isn’t What You Expected?
Maybe he’s not taller than you. Maybe he doesn’t look like your ex. Maybe he’s quiet. Maybe he’s building his life one slow, faithful step at a time—not flashy, not famous, but rooted.
And what if… just what if… the reason he hasn’t come yet is because you’re still healing from a version of yourself that would reject the man who could actually love you?
That’s not shame. That’s grace calling you forward.
Maybe He’s Already in Your Life—But Not in the Package You Expected
Maybe he doesn’t look like your type.
Maybe he’s quiet. Not flashy. Not the one who turns heads at a party, but the one who holds doors and speaks gently and shows up.
You’re looking for butterflies—but what if the better question is:
The question isn’t, “Does he give me butterflies?”
The question is, “Does he bring me peace?”
Because butterflies are fun—but peace builds homes.
Because sparks are fun—but peace builds homes.
Maybe you’re still healing from a version of yourself that would reject the man who could actually love you.
And maybe that’s okay.
But let your healing lead you toward softness, not walls.
Toward discernment, not cynicism.
Toward openness—to something deeper than you’ve imagined.
You Don’t Have to Be Religious to Be Loved Like This
You don’t have to have all the answers. You don’t have to believe everything Christians believe. But consider this:
What if the ache you feel isn’t just for a man?
What if it’s a whisper—toward something eternal?
Toward a kind of love that sees everything and doesn’t flinch.
That doesn’t keep score.
That doesn’t demand perfection, but walks with you through your shame, your silence, your most sacred places.
That kind of love exists.
It’s been offered—not as control, not as religion, but as invitation.
Jesus didn’t shame women. He defended them.
He didn’t demand submission. He gave his life first.
He didn’t avoid the messy, complicated ones. He sat with them.
You don’t have to believe all of it today. But if you’re tired of the hollow promises of hookup culture and self-help slogans that still leave you lonely…
Maybe pick up the Bible. Read the amazing Gospels. They transformed millions of lives. Not as a rulebook. But as a love letter. A love no man can give you, God can.
One that tells you the truth: You are not too much. You are becoming.
Final Word: Let Your Longing Refine You, Not Define You
Sister—you’re not broken.
You’re not wrong for wanting to be pursued, protected, held, and adored.
You’re not weak for longing for rest. For softness. For a man who sees you as a woman to be honored, not managed.
But hear this with all the clarity and compassion you deserve:
You’ve been lied to.
You were told that femininity is fragility. That needing a man is failure. That independence is your highest form of freedom—even if it costs you your heart.
You were told that power is found in performance, that peace is found in detachment, and that being alone is always better than being led.
But somewhere beneath the noise, beneath the curated feeds and empowerment slogans and trauma therapy buzzwords… your soul still whispers:
I want to be held. I want to build something real. I want to be led—not because I’m less—but because I’m tired of carrying it all.
That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom.
Yes, you’ve been strong. Fierce. Impressive. You’ve survived things some people wouldn’t recover from.
But now—maybe—it’s time to learn how to receive.
To receive peace.
To receive covering.
To receive love—not the kind that burns fast and leaves ashes, but the kind that builds homes and heals legacies.
Because you don’t just want a man.
You want a good man. One who sees you—not as a challenge to conquer, but as a crown to protect.
And maybe—just maybe—that ache for a strong man is also a deeper ache…
For God. For the One who made you. For the love that never leaves. The eyes that never close. The hands that never drop what they promised to hold.
So yes, keep hoping.
Keep healing.
But let your heart stay open.
Not to the world’s empty scripts, but to the ancient truth:
You were made for covenant, not confusion.
For strength, not performance.
For intimacy, not illusion.
For Eden, not endless auditions.
And when you begin to believe that again, you won’t just attract a good man.
You’ll become the kind of woman heaven trusts with one.
So cry if you must.
But cry toward something true.
Because you, beloved woman—
Are not too much.
Not too late.
Not forgotten.
You are being reclaimed.
By beauty.
By truth.
By God Himself.
And your story isn’t over.
It’s just beginning.
