Welcome to Part 4 of my post series where I am sharing about my experiences with belief and faith starting when I was young and ending with where I am today.
If you missed Part 1, you can read it here, click here for Part 2, and here for Part 3.
Thank you for coming along for the journey.
CW: If you have church, faith, or any kind of relationship trauma or abuse, please approach with caution, take breaks, or don’t read my posts at all.
Sometimes reading other people’s stories can help us heal and feel not-so-alone in our experiences, and other times we need to take a break from all the things that open us back up and bring the feeling back to the surface. Check in with yourself as you read. <3
Around the mid to late 00’s blogging became super popular. Everyone had a blog. Even I, a life-long writing procrastinator, had a blog.
When I first started blogging I was a newborn, baby Christian. And like many n00bs to Evangelicalism, I had a lot to say about something I knew very little about.
There is no one more confident and self-assured in their accurate and total comprehension of a thing than someone who has just newly discovered something that experts in that particular field of study have spent decades or centuries trying to decode and make sense of and still don’t fully understand it.
Despite my new-money theological arrogance and new-car-smell knowledge of the Bible, I trudged assertively through post after post, sharing my thoughts and musings to the 30 or so people - and always my mom! Hi MOM!- who regularly read my blog.
But one day, there was a new commenter on my blog. He wasn’t a stranger per se. I had seen T’s comments on other blogs I followed and thought he was witty and sharp. I had started to follow his popular, thoughtful, informative Christian blog not long before he started to follow my mine. A blog where I would make lists of things I thought were “weird” that week.
To make this even nerdier, a fellow blogger who followed both our blogs saw T and I commenting back and forth and took it upon herself to make sure we realized we were flirting with each other in the comments section of various blogs throughout the internets and asked us to please “get a room”.
But I didn’t have time to get a room with anyone. I was too busy quitting my well-paying Resident Administrator job with no other job prospects lined up, greatly concerning all the doctors I worked for when they asked me why I was quitting and I said “Because God has called me to”, packing up my studio apartment in Georgetown, and moving back to WV at the age of 30 to live with my parents.
Sorry, would-be suitors!
This little lady was too busy blowing up her life for the LORD to date anyone. Especially someone who lived in FL. Which I had found out. Because I had, immediately - and I mean IMMEDIATELY- stalked T’s Facebook page as soon as was humanly possible.
I was moving to WV. T lived in FL. There wasn’t going to be anything between us.
End of story.
The day. The very, exact day I arrived in WV, I opened my phone to discover an email from T. My blog buddy. Wishing me a safe journey from DC to WV. As a friendly friend would do.
I don’t remember how he got my email, but if wishing, and hoping, and thinking, and praying could deliver it to him via osmosis or Divine intervention, then I prefer to believe that is how it happened and not that he had asked me for it and I gave it to him. Too boring.
I wrote back to my platonic writer friend to thank him, from one writing professional to another, for his thoughtful email.
And what transpired over the next few days can only be described as - too much emailing.
Way too much.
We had to take this email show to the phones or my fingies were going to blister. One can only type LOL OMG HA HAHAHAHHHAHA so many times in a day before one’s fingertips start to detach.
Our first phone conversation was FOUR hours long. And that’s not because we had run out of things to say at the four hour mark. We could have kept talking for the rest of our lives (FORESHADOWING!).
The next phone conversation was five hours long. And the next was three (we got started late because we were both doing CHURCH THINGS OMG SO AMAZING BLESSSSS).
At the end of the three hour call, T says this to me, “Look, Katie, I want to be upfront with you. I want you to know that I’m not looking to just be your friend. I have plenty of friends. I like you a lot. I’m interested in you and finding out more about you. I intend to pursue you. If this isn’t something you are interested in, then that is totally fine. But I didn’t want to waste any time not being totally clear with you.”
After four years of are-we-on-a-date-or-just-hanging-out-as-friends dating hell where not one man had been even remotely clear about their feeling for or intentions towards me, his decisiveness and confidence was, quite frankly, shocking.
I don’t remember exactly how I responded, but I am willing to bet money it was awkward and probably vacillated between an “OMG, WHAT!? AHHHH thank youuuuu!!” and a “wait!! are you going to murder me?” reaction.
Next up, we planned a video call so we could see each other and confirm we weren’t being catfished and/or weren’t likely to murder each other. (YOU CAN TELL IN THE EYES)
We also wanted to see if our connection over the phone translated onscreen.
And it did. It really, very much did.
The first time we saw each other on the screen, me huddled in my parent’s “computer room” with their ancient computer in WV and T representing from his bedroom in Sunny FL, it was Valentine’s Day 2011.
When I first saw him, I stared. Just- jaw drop. Pictures didn’t do him justice. But to put a live face with his amazing, sexy voice. Yep. Two thumbs up. Approved.
In summation: We were twitterpated.
Look, ya’ll. At this time, T and I were in our thirties. T had been married before. I had been in some serious relationships.
We knew what we wanted and we didn’t want to waste any dang time.
Within a few weeks T was flying up to DC so we could spend the weekend together in person in neutral territory. Not in WV. Not in FL. W let me stay in her studio for the weekend while T stayed in a hotel across the street.
VERY CHASTE.
I would love to tell you we spent an amazing three days exploring the city; talking, laughing, and having the best time together, but that would only be half the story. All those things happened, but all the while I was literally riddled with anxiety and on the verge of panic.
The pressure of it all. Not pressure he put on me, but pressure I put on myself to not mess our weekend up.
I hadn’t been on a date, a real date, in years by that point. (Or at least, I didn’t think I had. Sorrynotsorry to any guys who thought they were taking me on a date but weren’t clear about it and I thought we were just hanging out as friendsssss.)
I knew I was different, but I didn’t know I was autistic. I just knew that dating was always hard for me and I really liked T and I didn’t want to do something or say something that would push him away or alert him to the fact that I was not a real human woman, but was, in fact, just multiple mental illnesses stacked on top of each other wearing a trench coat.
One morning, we met for breakfast before heading to tour the National Cathedral, but I couldn’t eat. At all. T noticed and asked me why I wasn’t eating and if I was okay. I wanted to make up a clever lie and say something that wouldn’t give away my anxiety like, “I can’t eat because the Russian government* has placed listening devices in the bagels”, but I decided to be honest and tell him how I was feeling.
(*We were staying beside the Russian Embassy and the bagel shop we were eating in was near there, so. IT’S NOT SO CRAZY)
T listened and said he didn’t want me to feel anxious and to just try to relax and be myself.
Relaxing and “being myself” are two different things, BRO. But I was glad he was so supportive and understanding.
Too bad my anxiety didn’t care.
By mid-day I was feeling sick with anxiety and there was no way to hide it. I was exhausted.
We were standing by the WWII memorial near the National Mall and T took my hand and said, “Katie, I really like you. I know you are anxious, but I am truly having a wonderful time just spending time with you and getting to know you. I want to be clear about something. I have no expectations from you. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to prove anything to me. It doesn’t matter that I flew here. You don’t owe me anything. I wanted to come and meet you. And if you were to tell me you would prefer to just be friends, then I would just be thankful for the time we got to spend together this weekend and we could just be friends. I could happily walk around DC by myself and be just fine.
There is no pressure here. If you are feeling anxious because you are worried about what I feel about you, then you don’t need to be anxious. You are amazing and beautiful and I am having the best time with you. I like you. I want to be with you. I just don’t want you to feel pressure to want to be with me, or try to be someone you think I will like, or any of that. What can we do that would help you feel more comfortable?”
T and I dated long distance for 5 months before getting engaged and then married 3 months after that. We would fly back and forth between WV and FL meeting each other’s families and friends and spend whatever time that wasn’t in person chatting over video calls, phone calls, and texts.
When T asked me to move to FL to marry him (not the official proposal yet), I struggled at first. Not because I didn’t want to marry him, but because I had felt sure God had “called” me to WV for a purpose in my home state.
I had started volunteering with Young Life at the local private college down the street from my parents house and they had asked me if I would consider becoming the regional director for that area. I felt like I had the opportunity to do my own ministry work apart from my brother who had paved the way for me before.
I had friends and family in WV. I loved WV.
But I also loved T.
I didn’t want to miss out on love, but I also didn’t want to miss a calling from God.
After a lot of praying, I finally decided that building a ministry with T instead of trying to go it on my own was the better choice. We had spent months sharing our dreams of the kind of ministries we wanted to create and our desires and gifts aligned.
I turned down the opportunity to work with Young Life and moved to FL on July 3rd 2011. T proposed to me the very next day: the 4th of July. I had gotten a job working for a plastic surgeon I knew from DC who had recently joined a private practice and wanted to bring me on board.
Everything was lining up. God MUST be in this. This MUST be God’s will for our lives.
The first time T brought me to his church was when we were dating. He had already sent me loads of sermons from his pastor to watch so I would know the kind of church they were. Once I moved down to FL to be with T, his church welcomed me with open arms.
We were married in MD on October 8th, 2011 at the church where my Christian journey had begun.
Afterwards, we spent an amazing honeymoon in Key West.
Everything we had been dreaming of and waiting for was all coming together. God had brought us together for just such a time as this and we were chomping at the bit to start our life and ministry together.
This was going to be different.
The hurts we had both experienced in prior churches, ministries, and relationships were in the past. We were clearly a part of something new God was doing. God was making big moves in the Earth and we had found the epicenter: our church. We were aligned with each other and with God.
Nothing could stop us now…
Stay tuned for Part 5! There are way more thrills, chills, and spills ahead. You don’t want to miss it.
I’m still here. I’m waiting for the happy ending 💕