I’ve recently started dating God..
If you’ve known me for a while — or if this is your first time finding me — there’s still a few things you might not know.
For example:
I’ve recently started dating God.
Look, I love the idea. I get the idea.
But I’ve been burned before. And I can’t fully throw myself into another man’s arms — even God’s — without making sure I actually know, like, and trust Him.
So I started having cute nightly conversations with Him.
I started quieting my mind enough to actually hear Him speak back.
The truth is, I’ve been struggling with the concept of a loving God.
My belief used to be: I have to be perfect in order to be rewarded.
If the reward didn’t come, it meant, “Good — but just not good enough.”
And yes, I’ve read the books. I’ve heard the talks.
But deep down, that was the story my mind had absorbed.
So I’d dive into yet another round of deep, shadowy healing.
Maybe this time God would be satisfied.
Maybe this time I’d prove myself.
But every single time I wasn’t “high vibe” enough —
When I skipped a meditation… when I spiraled a little…
My mind told me:
“Of course He’s not proud of you. You messed it up again.”
It felt like I was endlessly stuck in this loop:
Work hard → Be “good” → Hope for love → Miss a step → Try harder.
It wasn’t just about God — it was my whole upbringing.
I remember bringing home a 97% and hearing, “Well, why not 100%?”
Because I was smart enough, right?
So the other night, I sat with God.
We talked. About the love I give. The love I see all around me.
I asked why I could manifest anything — except love.
Why He’d send me a cute guy, only to whisper, “LOL, you thought?”
Why wasn’t He proud of all the work I’ve done?
And that’s when I thought about my kids.
When Ethan comes home with 104% on a test or 82% — I’m equally proud.
Yes, maybe he gamed too much.
But you know what? He studied. He lived. That’s balance. That’s growth.
And that’s something to be proud of.
If Adèle ever came home after a breakup, crying that she’s unlovable…
I would look at her like she had three heads and say,
“You are perfection. That boy is just blind.”
So why didn’t I feel that kind of love?
Why didn’t I believe that I deserved that level of pride?
And then it hit me:
I was projecting my parents’ love onto God.
I believed love had to be earned. Proved. Performed. Perfected.
I thought God’s love — as a Father — was like the fatherly love I’d known: conditional.
I didn’t even understand what unconditional love felt like.
Until that night.
Until that conversation.
Until I realized: God loves me the way I love my children.
I came out of my childhood looking for a different way.
And I built it.
I raised my kids differently.
I walk through life differently.
I love differently.
My kids are 19 and 13.
We don’t just love each other because we have to — we like each other.
We hang out. We talk. We choose each other, over and over.
There are no conditions.
They’re free to be who they are.
I’m proud whether they succeed or stumble — because both matter.
I want them to dream wildly — even if that dream takes them across oceans.
I always listen, even when it’s hard to hear.
And they’ve shaped themselves into the most amazing humans I know.
That’s what they mean by unconditional love.
God sees me as His child.
Not how my parents saw me… but how I see my kids.
That realization?
It changed everything.
I feel light.
Free.
Loved.
Supported.
Seen.
Acknowledged.
Important.
And now, I feel safe asking for what I truly want.
The dream. The man. The magic.
Because I know that God’s got me.
Just like I’ve got my people.
And that is some fucking strong support.
If you’ve ever felt like you had to earn love from God…
If you’ve ever carried the weight of ‘‘good, but not good enough’’..
This one’s for you.
Full post is up now.
[Link in bio] 💌
I’d love to hear if this resonates.
Coffee cheers,
Nadia
