Falling Season, Get What You Give

November Reflections: Reciprocity, Renewal, and Protecting the Heart

Work is creeping in, in a deep way—feeling like November and the end of Fall. I know there’s still more Autumn left, even if the weather and early darkness suggest otherwise. There’s a chill that whispers both endings and beginnings.

For now, I’ll protect my physical body with crochet scarves and my red beanie, layers of warmth and softness that feel like care. Spiritually, I’ll protect myself with scripture, hot tea, and quietness. This combination grounds me—it’s a gentle ritual of self-preservation and presence.

I will also continue to follow through with clinical encouragement and therapeutic support for my clients. I love what I practice for a living, though it often carries a great amount of heaviness. Bearing witness to others’ pain and growth is sacred work—it deepens empathy but also stretches the heart thin at times. My heart feels frayed a bit lately, yet my hope is deeper and wider.

It’s Sunday again—a new month, a renewing of time. The clocks “fell back” in the early morning hours, giving us the illusion of more rest, more time. Yet I know how long it takes for the body and spirit to catch up with the shift. This symbolic turning reminds me: don’t allow the world to cloud your intuition. Trust what you know.

Reciprocity vs. Transactional Relationships

In therapy and in life, we often examine the balance of giving and receiving—what it means to love freely while maintaining healthy boundaries. It’s important to distinguish reciprocity from a purely transactional way of relating.

A reciprocal relationship is rooted in goodwill, connection, and genuine care. It’s where giving becomes an act of love—not an investment expecting a return. It flows both ways, naturally and without keeping score.

By contrast, a transactional relationship measures worth in exchanges:

“I bought you coffee, so you owe me a coffee.”

In reciprocity, the heart says:

“I bought you coffee because I wanted to do something kind. I trust that you’ll hold me in love and care when I need it most.”

The difference may seem subtle, but emotionally and spiritually, it’s profound. Reciprocity nourishes connection. Transactionality breeds comparison, resentment, and emotional distance.

In therapy, I often remind clients that reciprocity thrives in spaces where trust and emotional safety exist. It’s a rhythm of mutual investment—where both people are free to give from overflow, not obligation.

Love, God, and the Waiting Season

Lately, I’ve returned to the dating app—not out of desperation, but curiosity and openness. It’s a strange world to navigate with a tender heart and a discerning spirit. I find myself reflecting often on why I desire partnership and how I wish to love.

Some conversations spark hope; others remind me how surface-level connection can be when rooted in transaction rather than reciprocity. There’s a quiet ache in realizing how rare it is to meet someone who’s ready to love intentionally—to listen, to give without keeping score, to see beyond what’s easy.

And yet, even as I scroll, match, and unmatch, I still believe in divine timing. I still believe that God writes love stories differently—slowly, intentionally, with purpose and alignment. So I’m learning to wait well. To stay open, but not hurried. To protect my peace while remaining hopeful that the right heart will recognize mine.

Spiritual Reflection, in Galatians 6:9, we’re reminded: “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.”

This scripture grounds me as both therapist and woman—someone holding space for others while still longing for her own sacred companionship.

Even when my heart feels stretched thin, I remember that reciprocity—with myself, with God, and with others—is an act of trust. A form of love that doesn’t rush or demand, but rests and receives.

As time falls back and the days grow shorter, I choose to rest, to trust what I know, and to give from love—never from depletion.

May this November invite you, too, into warmth, rest, and a deeper understanding of how you give and receive love. And if you, like me, are waiting on God to write your love story—know that He’s still writing.

Reflection Prompt: Where in your life do you need to trust divine timing—in love, in purpose, or in the quiet in-between?

Be brave,

Michelle

_{©️Intimately Worded, Michelle}