In dating and intimacy, we’re often taught to look for surface-level markers of “worthiness” — titles, income, lifestyle, social status. But the deeper truth is this:
A person can look impressive and still live in quiet chaos.
And the more mature version of you doesn’t need to investigate someone’s outer life to understand their inner world.
You don’t have to figure out how much someone makes to know whether they are emotionally whole.
What matters more are quieter, more honest questions:
Is their life stable — emotionally, spiritually, relationally?
Does their story match their choices?
Do you feel safe, calm, and clear in their presence — or confused, tense, and unsettled?
These questions don’t come from judgment.
They come from wisdom.
You’re not “too sensitive.”
You’re perceptive.
When something feels off, it isn’t an accusation.
It’s information.
Your body notices before your mind catches up.
Your spirit recognizes misalignment long before you can explain it.
And trusting yourself doesn’t make you cynical — it makes you grounded.
Quiet clarity is powerful.
You don’t have to argue with your instincts.
You don’t have to convince yourself to stay curious about red flags.
You don’t have to silence your nervous system to be “open-minded.”
You are allowed to listen to the discomfort.
You are allowed to honor the pause.
You are allowed to choose peace over potential.
Emotional intelligence in love looks like this:
Peace without performance.
Consistency without chasing.
Safety without forcing.
And spiritual maturity shows up as discernment — not paranoia.
You are not rejecting people.
You are protecting your peace.
And that is holy.
I pray this Sunday you focused on what you need and that you know that your wants (no matter how big) are divinely aligned. May peace be your stand and hope your anchor. You are worth your healing work. 💕
#SuperSundays: I used a gift card I won through a health app and treated myself to Starbucks this morning. I walked in, minding my business, and they handed me a free Red Cup for being a regular coffee consumer. A small, unexpected kindness. A wink from God. #WinWin 🤓
The Tribe… they were all here this weekend.
• Autumn fussed about my eating—and my not eating—habits. 🥰 A full Tillman. When she “moms” me, I hear Pearlie Mae, Val, and Keyna speaking through her. Healing comes full circle when our children carry the tone of the women who shaped us.
• Brutus texted a whole list of demands… while at work. 🧐🤷🏽♀️
• Darius seeking Umi duties. 🥰 His way of staying close.
• Damien, the big brother who shows up—not loudly, but faithfully. 💛 His presence always lifts me.
Damien and I spent Saturday together—shopping, movies, dinner. I drove him around for a bit. We got home and he immediately started dressing to go out again. I fussed because truly… he only comes to see his barber and his brother.
Him: “I’ve been with you all day.”
🤷🏽♀️🧐🙄
#FirstBornJiltsTheHeart
There’s a sacred sweetness in this stage of life—grown children finding their own paths but still circling back home in their unique ways. Their presence reminds me that love doesn’t leave; it shifts, expands, and deepens. Even the fussing is a kind of prayer.
Pair all of that with one spoiled pup and I feel surrounded by a living testimony of God’s goodness. 🌿🧡🌿 I’m leaning into these new chapters, not just gracefully—but spiritually aware.
🍂 Fall is here again. My favorite.
NC weather gave us every season this week:
🌦️☔️🌬️❄️☀️
But today is calm, bright, and warm in that gentle, soul-softening way.
This morning was #CoffeeAndQuiet and #PrayersAndSage.
A settling. A centering.
A reminder of Psalm 46:10 —
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
Stillness is not the absence of movement; it is the presence of awareness. It is choosing to pause long enough to hear what your spirit has been whispering all week.
Today, I’m reminded:
Healing isn’t optional; it’s required.
And it often begins in these small, ordinary, holy moments—
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?
There’s a quiet kind of fatigue that can come from wanting to be loved well. It isn’t physical — it’s emotional and spiritual. It’s the weariness that shows up after you’ve overextended your heart just to be understood, after you’ve carried more of the emotional load than the relationship ever asked you to.
But I’ve come to realize something sacred:
Love does not require my exhaustion, only my honesty.
That truth has become a balm for me. Honesty isn’t just about what I say — it’s how I choose to show up. It’s admitting when I’m tired, when I feel unseen, when I’m hoping for more depth. It’s saying, “I want a meaningful relationship,” without trying to earn one through over-effort or performance.
There’s a kind of peace that only comes when you stop negotiating your needs. When you release the urge to chase clarity or beg for consistency. When you start trusting that the love meant for you will never confuse you, diminish you, or ask you to betray your spirit in the process.
As we begin to heal with our own stuff, something shifts. We stop seeing love as a rescue and start seeing it as a reflection. We start realizing that the relationships around us mirror where we are internally — what we believe we deserve, how safe we feel within ourselves, and how deeply we’ve allowed grace to meet us in our healing.
My journey now is about emotional healing and spiritual safety — finding a rhythm in love that doesn’t disrupt my inner calm. I want connection that feels like prayer: steady, honest, rooted in presence. The kind that honors the quiet work I’ve done to heal, forgive, and grow.
When someone fades away, or blocks, or simply doesn’t have the depth to meet me — I breathe. I remember that peace isn’t the absence of longing; it’s the presence of alignment. I remind myself that my worth doesn’t rise or fall with someone’s ability to recognize it.
So I’m learning to love differently — without rushing, without rescuing, without rehearsing who I think I need to be. I’m letting honesty, not exhaustion, lead the way.
Because love that is divine, grounded, and true doesn’t demand my striving.
It welcomes my stillness. It meets me where I am,
and says: You are safe here.
Be Brave,
Michelle🌿
“I have found the one whom my soul loves.” — Song of Solomon 3:4
Intimately Worded | Sunday Reflections
What would it look like for you to love without exhaustion — to let honesty, not effort, guide your connections?
In the landscape of intimate relationships—especially ones that have ended or grown complicated—the question often arises: Do I block them, or do I set a boundary and keep the line open? Both choices carry meaning, weight, and consequences. The decision is deeply personal, but understanding the difference can help you move toward clarity and healing.
What Is Blocking?
Blocking is a hard boundary. It’s a clear, uncompromising decision: “You no longer have access to me in this space.”When you block someone, you remove their ability to call, text, or interact with you on social platforms. This is often used when continued access feels harmful, triggering, or disrespectful to your healing process.
✨ For example, one client described how every morning text from her ex felt like reopening a wound. When she finally blocked him, she said she could breathe deeper—the silence felt like freedom, not loss. She likened it to closing a door so her spirit could finally rest.
Impact of Blocking:
Immediate relief from unwanted contact.
Reduces temptation to re-engage in unhealthy dynamics.
Signals to yourself that your peace matters more than their access.
Can, however, stir feelings of finality or grief—sometimes blocking means truly accepting closure. The “what-if” ping pong game.
What Is Boundary Setting?
Boundary setting is a soft or flexible limit. It might look like muting notifications, telling the person when and how you are willing to communicate, or choosing to disengage without fully cutting off access. Boundaries require ongoing communication and reinforcement, and they often shift depending on your healing and growth.
✨ Another client chose boundaries over blocking with a co-parent. She muted notifications outside of agreed parenting hours, so she wasn’t startled by messages at night. This gave her control and calm, without shutting the door on necessary communication. She said it felt like drawing a gentle circle of protection around herself and her child.
Impact of Boundary Setting:
Preserves a sense of control without complete severance.
Allows room for civility, co-parenting, or shared responsibilities.
Requires emotional strength to hold the line when boundaries are tested.
Can prolong attachment if the other person continues to cross boundaries or send mixed messages.
Which Is Right for You?
The choice between blocking and boundary setting comes down to one central question: Does their access to me nurture my healing, or does it harm it?
If their presence disrupts your peace, drains your energy, or constantly reopens wounds—blocking may be the healthiest option.
If there is space for respect, distance, and maturity in ongoing contact—boundary setting may work.
Neither choice is about punishment; both are about protecting your well-being.
The Deeper Impact
Blocking often brings a sharper sense of relief and clarity, but also demands acceptance of closure.
Boundaries offer flexibility, but can leave cracks where old dynamics slip back in.
Both paths teach you something powerful: your care, energy, and attention are sacred resources. Choosing how to guard them is an act of self-respect.
A Gentle Spiritual Reminder
When facing the choice to block or set boundaries, it can help to soften the moment with spiritual grounding. Offer yourself a simple prayer or affirmation:
“I release what disturbs my peace. I trust that God, Spirit, and Love guide me into relationships that honor my soul. My heart is safe, my life is unfolding, and I am whole.”
Remember: healing isn’t just about saying no to someone else—it’s about saying yes to yourself, your faith, and your future.
Call to Action
If you find yourself wrestling with this decision, take time to journal, pray, or meditate on these questions:
When I allow access, do I feel peace or pain?
When I remove access, do I feel loss or freedom?
What does my spirit long for in this season of my life?
If the answers feel heavy, consider reaching out to a trusted therapist, faith leader, or supportive community. Sometimes the most spiritual act of love is to protect the vessel that is you.
Intimately Worded,
Michelle
@TransitionalPathwaysPLLC
Where healing is sacred and intimacy begins with you.
By Michelle Tillman, PsychoTherapist/Founder of Transitional Pathways, PLLC
Graced for more💕
August has always felt like a threshold month. The eighth out of twelve, it marks a quiet turning point—a slow descent from summer’s height into something more inward, reflective. The number eight, symbolizing new beginnings and infinite cycles, reminds me that change isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s a whisper, a knowing, a sacred nudge inward.
This August, I’m paying closer attention.
I’m noticing how much I’ve grown through the stillness and the storms. Life, love, and relationships—each carry layers of complexity I continue to unpeel, not just as a therapist, but as a Black woman who holds space for others while learning to hold space for myself. Each interaction becomes an opportunity for reflection and growth, revealing deeper truths about my journey and the interconnectedness of our experiences.
Parenting Through Transitions
Parenting adult children is its own sacred terrain. There’s a constant balancing act between support and surrender, concern and trust. The role shifts from being a protector to a mirror—from telling them what to do, to showing them who I am becoming. And in that, I’m relearning who I am, too. It’s an intricate dance that requires both courage and vulnerability. As I navigate this evolving relationship, I find myself reflecting on the lessons of patience and grace that I wish to impart. There are days I want to gather them like I used to when they were small, encasing them in the warmth of my love and protection. And there are days when I sit quietly, choosing not to fill the silence, letting them figure it out—letting me figure it out. It’s hard. It’s holy. It’s human, a reminder that growth often comes in layers, revealing more of us in the process.
The Inner Work of Love
In love—romantic or otherwise—I’ve stopped striving for clarity at the expense of peace. I’ve learned that deeper connection doesn’t come from figuring someone out but from allowing myself to be fully known, even in uncertainty. Intimacy, for me now, feels less like pursuit and more like permission. The permission to be present, to not shrink, to not pretend I don’t need gentleness. Embracing this vulnerability has deepened my relationships in unexpected ways, fostering a sense of safety and trust that allows us to explore the beautiful complexity of our connections.
I no longer equate urgency with care. Instead, I ask, Can this connection honor my healing pace? That question alone has brought more clarity than some relationships ever could. It’s taught me the power of setting boundaries and recognizing when a relationship fuels my spirit versus when it drains my energy.
Spirit-Led Slow Living
This season, I’ve been deepening my relationship with prayer, meditation, and the quiet art of slowing down. I used to think rest was the reward. Now I know it’s the way. Meditation isn’t always serene. Sometimes it’s tears. Sometimes it’s silence that says, “you’re safe now.” I’ve learned that God often speaks in the pauses between breaths, not just in the outcomes I used to chase. There is a different kind of wisdom that rises when you stop rushing. It invites you to savor life’s moments, to appreciate the beauty in the mundane, and to embrace stillness as a teacher.
In this letting go of haste, I’ve begun to uncover the richness of my inner landscape—thoughts, feelings, dreams—and allowed them to unfold naturally.
Holding Space for Myself
As a therapist, I’ve witnessed transformation in others. But this year, I’ve been asked to be the witness for myself. To name my desires. To grieve what never happened. To celebrate how far I’ve come—even if no one else sees the full stretch. Healing is a personal journey, and each step brings me closer to my authentic self, reminding me that I am not defined by my past, but rather by my resilience.
August reminds me that healing doesn’t have to be complete to be worthy. I can be tender and powerful. Grieving and grateful. Longing and whole. This dance of contradictions is where I find my strength, my joy, and my truth.
To You, Reader:
If you are navigating change—be it in your body, your boundaries, your beliefs—I hope you honor the pauses. I hope you let softness find you. I hope you remember that your pace is not a problem. It’s part of your becoming. Each step along this path is significant, and each moment of reflection is a gift to be cherished.
Let August be an altar. Not to who you used to be, but to the soul you’re still discovering. Embrace this time of introspection, allowing it to guide you into deeper understanding and appreciation of both yourself and the intricate tapestry of life that connects us all.
Always, with grace and truth.
Intimately Worded,
Michelle
@TransitionalPathwaysPLLC
Where healing is sacred and intimacy begins with you.
I am deeply thankful for God’s grace and His provision.
And in that quietness, I find myself weeping in gratitude. Smiling in reverence. Standing still in awe. God’s grace shows up again and again, sometimes wrapped in joy, sometimes in the hard beauty of becoming. His provision meets me—not always in the ways I expected, but always in the ways I needed.
I’m learning not just to remember, but to remain—in peace, in presence, in gratitude.
Spiritual Safety in Grief
Grief, is a whole something else, entirely– with the loss of my father, can indeed leave us feeling untethered, almost floating, unanchored. This sense of being “lost and free, numb and unable” speaks to the spiritual disequilibrium that can accompany deep loss. When our foundational relationships, like the one with a parent, are altered, it can feel as if a protective covering has been lifted, leaving us exposed in ways we hadn’t anticipated.
It is incredible how life’s most treasured moments can pass by in the blink of an eye. Recently, I’ve been making a conscious effort to slow things down, to truly embrace and cherish each moment. My memories unfold in slow motion, allowing me to savor them fully. I find myself smiling, shedding tears, and feeling profound gratitude for God’s grace and His continuous provision.
In these moments of profound vulnerability, cultivating spiritual safety becomes paramount. It’s about recognizing that while earthly anchors may shift, there’s a divine tether that remains. This doesn’t mean bypassing the pain or pretending it doesn’t exist. Instead, it’s about acknowledging the hurt while actively seeking the comfort and stability that spiritual connection can offer.
My youngest son is 18, a high school graduate, gym rat, and a mental health advocate who is truly walking in his path with empathy and compassion. His friends have their own Bible Study and have given their friendship circle the title of “Council.”
I am entering what I believe to be one of the greatest relationships of my life…at 54. It’s hitting differently and often feels unfamiliar and fearful. I am in my 50s and dating. Menopause. Diabetes. Dating. My Light, this soft era. None of this is bad; the dating experience is questionable and rather humorous—courageously so. What I know is that it is something worth growing into; it is what my whole soul has craved. Furthermore, it is truly what my father advised me it would be. I was 23 when he told me what qualities to look for in a man, the man for me. I argued that I wouldn’t ever get married; my father passed away the next day.
This Father’s Day was different than most. It was quiet, filled with grief, and I experienced the loss of him with deeper sadness and more love. #Grateful His impact on my life carries me. I transitioned from being protected and covered to a different type of sheltering. He was my anchor, my fallback. It’s hard to navigate this life without a father. Our selves become untethered, almost floating and unanchored. Lost and free. Numb and unable.
Where would I be, truly, if God didn’t redirect his heart? I’m an adopted child, a loved daughter and at times I truly believe a cherished sibling. Family is our first love…be it what it is or what it was. ❤️🩹
There are not too many people I share my heart with; I believe that to be a good thing. I am sharing how off kilter I have been lately with my sister-friend. Her presence in my life is actionable, tangible. My friend, my Wizard Sister said to me, “We lived for so long in isolation in so many ways…individual traumas, collective traumas and now we’re all in the early stages of reconnection getting triggered left and right (zero pun intended and…) We hurt in relationships and we heal in relationships. I am praying for your healing, sister.” @borninprovidence 🌿
I breathe. She’s right. Foolishly yet with wisdom—thinking I thought I was healed enough; just enough. I have been doing the work, my soul work for the longest. It would seem that falling into something safe and prayed for would be simple, easier, refreshing… my heart yearns for soft, softer a forever landing.
I encourage you to not only look up in wonderment yet learn to count the stars. Scripture Psalms 147:4 states, “He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name.”
God’s infinite wisdom and limitless love continues to pull all of this together and not as haphazardly as we believe. Trust that purpose and pain is not the great divide we experience, yet somehow it bridges what has to happen. Love better. Love anyway. Do it because you can; you are ready.
Working as a therapist, we are privy to hearing life stories, an individual’s experiences. We listen to their pain and their victories, the simple, small, and big things. Self-love, self-care, and wellness are synonymous with great health, mentally, spiritually, and physically. Lately, I am noticing a trend: we no longer know how to be in a healthy relationship nor do we know what one looks like. Across all societal norms and other corporate platforms, we are demanded to forgive (without processing) and negatively “coached”, argued with, and hurtfully told we are wrong for wanting more. Social media, reality shows, and life challenges normalize dysfunction; we learn to accept pain as a reward, we measure love by difficulty and hardship.
We tend to move into relationships out of loss and/or a specific want, losing sight of what we need. A client once shared with me: “I do not want to date out of circumstance. Does that make me selfish?” I responded that it was one of the most powerful statements I have heard in a while: “I do not want to date out of circumstance.” What a refreshing thought process, one that requires strength, recovery, self-discipline, and confidence.
Relationships have become unhinged at the cost of “influence” and social popularity. Toxicity and narcissism have become synonymous with band-aid quotes and placating sentiments: “Go to therapy.” Yet, there is not any evidence of real change. We recycle patterns and repeat our past with someone new. Rarely does anyone commit to the hard work. We unknowingly agree to be in relationships without ever understanding the difficulty in creating new patterns and different thought processes nor the impact of trauma.
I encourage you to recognize and learn red flags. Understand that red flags signify that this does not feel good, that this person is not for you and that “fixing” others is never a winning concept. We cannot “fix” people. Below are a few tips when seeking healthy relationships:
Stay present and connected to your personal values.
Do not date out of circumstance. Self-validation and self-prioritization are key.
Know that any relationship is destructive when it decreases your quality of life.
When a partner disrupts relationship with your immediate family life, demanding you cut off direct communication: RED FLAG!
There are several Thinking Traps that can get in the way of creating a healthy relationship: concealing, impediments, emotional responsibility, mind-reading trap, the truth trap and the victim trap.
“It is okay to feel sad after making the right decision.”
Remember you are wanting a healthy relationship that is good for you, that nurtures you, your growth, your life. Truly, settling for a “trending” companionship should never be an optimal option. I believe there are so many other consequences when we settle. I encourage you to trust your journey, honor your pathway and love with purposeful intention for every aspect of your life.
Intimately, my prayer for you is to be healthy, loving and free—your way without harm and without selfishness. Continue to do your work, your soul work.
Intimately Worded,
Michelle
Disclaimer: The post provides valuable insights on healthy relationships and the impact of societal influences. The language and tone are engaging, making the content relatable. It effectively encourages self-reflection and awareness, offering practical tips for fostering healthy relationships. Overall, the post offers meaningful advice for maintaining healthy relationships amidst societal pressures.
#NewThings: Embracing the newness of things. Learning to let our light shine after dark times and during the difficult moments. Learning how to want the better while unlearning the hurt of our wounds. Healing is not a measurement of how good things are going in your present.
Trust yourSelf more with each decision you’ve made to be where you are. Love comes and how it flows for you is the healing process. We’re always evolving…our healing is a journey. Level up with grace. God is intimately intentional.
I’m still moving within my goal word for this year: trusting mySelf. Try your best not to minimize any parts of your life. You are worthy of your work—even when it is difficult.
Growth and healing will continue to be a hard process. Grief, loss is seemingly consistent; often it brings and leaves us in places unfamiliar. Do not lose your way in fearing what’s next. Learn to be, with love.
I am reminded of the gentleness and generosity of #God. Grief does not miss anyone. We lose our love Ones. We want something entirely different than this type of loss. Although as painful as it is, grief and healing is not about forgetfulness or any particular destination. I encourage you to see yourSelf, to allow healing into those hidden places and within your prayers. Do not minimize where you are…you’re worthy of healing and of love. I pray your day leads you to nurturing and replenishing your soul. You’re worth of your journey.
This work week has been a tremendous time of grief and loss —staying present with others as I proactively listen and assist them in their grieving process is challenging; in reflection, it does my heart well.
“As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.”Karl Jung, psychiatrist
Take care to take care of you. Do those things that comfort your soul. I see you. I love you.
Intimately Worded with Michelle 
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