Intimately Worded with Michelle

Tag: selfacceptance

  • #CrossingBridges:

    The Third Day Promises: Healing is Agency

    Nature Walk♥️

    Where Lent Found Me

    Lent met me in the present this year. Not in old wounds. Not in childhood memory. Not in something buried. But in something current.

    I was recovering from a breakup I was growing in; it had great potential. There was no explosion.

    No dramatic ending. Just the quiet understanding that something meaningful had run its course.

    And even when you accept that with maturity —there is still grief. The kind that lingers. The kind that shows up in ordinary evenings.

    While Falling Forward

    I felt the need for structure. So I went dry.

    I walked more. I paid closer attention to what entered my body. I thought I was already mindful.

    But intentional seasons reveal subtle attachments. It wasn’t about food. It was about comfort. It was about what I reached for when I didn’t want to feel the weight of missing someone.

    The Moments I Leaned In

    There were evenings when I felt the ache more than usual. I would stand in the kitchen —

    not hungry, just unsettled. And I sensed it quietly:

    Stay here.

    “Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10

    Stillness felt harder than indulgence.

    But stillness was where clarity lived.

    So instead of soothing myself outwardly,

    I turned inward. Instead of numbing, I walked.

    Instead of filling silence. I let it hold me. Solitude is a practice of extending self- grace.

    Easter Sunday: Third Day Promises

    The Third Day has always meant resurrection.

    But this year, it meant the in-between.

    The space between surrender and rising.

    The quiet before clarity.

    “And we know that all things work together for good…” — Romans 8:28

    Even this. Even endings that didn’t break me —

    but stretched me. I realized I wasn’t in collapse.

    I was in refinement.

    The Better of Things

    What surprised me most was not the discipline around my body. It was the clarity around my calling. There has been a gentle stirring in me —to expand professionally. To step more fully into my work as a therapist. To build with greater intention.

    There are rooms I feel called to walk into now — not from lack, but from readiness.

    Grief clarified my capacity. I am not shrinking.

    I am strengthening.

    What I Know

    Healing is Agency. It’s choosing differently, even when it’s hard. This season taught me, Healing this Lent wasn’t dramatic. It was disciplined. It was honest. It was present. Spiritual intimacy, for me, became alignment.

    Alignment between: what I feel

    what I release

    what I consume

    what I build

    The Third Day reminds me that resurrection is not always loud. Sometimes it looks like:

    acceptance,

    a long walk,

    a closed chapter,

    and quiet courage.

    I am still becoming.

    And that feels enough.

    Being brave,

    Michelle

    ©️Intimately Worded, Michelle

  • This Is What Healing Became

    This Is What Healing Became

    — Dating with Intention, Growing in Purpose, and Embracing What’s Next

    Soft landing

    I feel like I’m moving into something new.

    It isn’t loud. It isn’t forced. There’s no dramatic breaking or unraveling—just a quiet unfolding. A gentle crossing over into a space that feels… different. I feel loved here. Sure-footed. Grounded in a way that doesn’t require me to prove anything. And there’s a happiness present—steady, unyielding, yet breathable. The kind that doesn’t suffocate or demand, but simply is.

    Earlier this week, a client told me, “You’re strong.”

    I paused, and I gently told her, “I have strength.”

    Because there is a difference.

    Being “strong” can sometimes feel like a role we’re forced to play. A fixed identity. A weight. It can sound like survival dressed up as virtue—the kind that leaves no room for softness, for breaking, for being held. Strength, on the other hand, is alive. It moves. It breathes. It grows.

    My strength is not rigid—it replenishes.

    It extends grace when I need it most.

    It allows me to bend without losing myself.

    It lets me rest without guilt.

    Strength is what carried me through the seasons where I didn’t feel chosen, where I questioned my path, where I showed up anyway—uncertain, but willing. It is what taught me that endurance is not about hardening, but about remaining open… even when it would be easier to close.

    And now, I feel the fruit of that.

    Not in a performative way. Not in a way that needs validation. But in a quiet knowing: I am held. By God. By the work I’ve done. By the woman I’ve become.

    This newness doesn’t feel like pressure—it feels like permission.

    Permission to soften without losing my power.

    Permission to experience joy without waiting for something to go wrong.

    Permission to receive love without questioning if I’ve earned it.

    And as I sit with this newness, I’m beginning to understand what it is asking of me.

    It is calling me to be intentional in the spaces I once approached cautiously.

    When I return to dating, it will not be from a place of loneliness or curiosity—but from alignment. I am no longer entertaining potential without evidence. I am no longer drawn to what feels familiar but unsettled. I will date with intention—clear, grounded, and open—allowing connection to meet me where I already stand whole. There will be no rushing, no proving, no abandoning myself to be chosen. Only mutuality. Only peace.

    This newness is also stretching me professionally.

    There is more for me to learn, more for me to carry, more for me to offer. I can feel the pull toward another certification—another layer of knowledge, another refinement of my craft. Not for validation, not for appearance, but because I honor the responsibility of what I hold. The letters behind my name will grow, yes—but more importantly, so will my capacity to serve, to discern, to lead with both skill and spirit.

    And then there is this sacred space I am entering—empty nesting.

    It is tender. It is unfamiliar. It is quieter than what I’ve known for so long. And yet, I am not resisting it. I am leaning in. I am allowing myself to feel the fullness of what it means to release and to trust that what I have poured into will continue to live and breathe beyond me.

    At the same time, I find myself gently preparing—creating provision for what’s to come. Not from fear, but from wisdom. Not from lack, but from stewardship. I am honoring both the present moment and the future that is unfolding before me.

    This is what newness means for me:

    Not striving—but aligning.

    Not forcing—but allowing.

    Not bracing—but trusting.

    Do the necessary work.

    I am learning that growth doesn’t always feel like pressure. Sometimes it feels like peace. Sometimes it feels like clarity. Sometimes it feels like standing in the middle of your life and realizing… you are no longer trying to survive it.

    You are ready to live it.

    And maybe that’s where I am.

    Not at the end of anything.

    But at the beginning of something sacred.

    A life that feels both grounded and expansive.

    A heart that is no longer bracing—but open.

    A spirit that trusts what is unfolding, even without having all the answers.

    If this is what newness feels like…

    I am ready to receive it.

    Being brave,

    Michelle ✨🌿✨

    ©️Intimately Worded, Michelle

  • Grace, Pathways, and the Cost of Becoming

    New Beginnings

    The new year does not arrive quietly. It comes with memory, with residue, with the echo of prayers whispered in exhaustion and spoken aloud in faith. As I step into this year, I do so aware of divine forces that have been at work long before I had language for them. God’s love has not been performative or punitive—it has been steady, corrective, and deeply intimate.

    Some prayers were answered quickly. Others were answered slowly, through redirection, loss, or delay. And some were answered in ways that required me to grow into the answer rather than simply receive it. I now understand that unanswered prayers are often invitations to become wiser, more honest, and more discerning.

    The Pathways of 2025

    The pathways established in 2025 were not accidental. They were carved through difficult decisions, uncomfortable boundaries, and moments where choosing myself felt lonely but necessary. I learned that God’s guidance does not always feel gentle in the moment—but it is always precise.

    Every hard pivot created alignment. Every closed door reduced distraction. Every ending taught me discernment. What once felt like disruption revealed itself as divine order.

    The wisdom gained did not come from ease. It came from emotional pain—pain that now reads like a highlight reel of growth rather than a list of regrets. I can trace my maturity back to moments where I survived disappointment without losing my softness, where I chose integrity over convenience, and where I honored my values even when it cost me comfort.

    Emotional Pain as Wisdom

    The older I get, the more I understand emotional pain as a form of instruction. Pain exposes what matters. It clarifies what cannot be negotiated. It sharpens our ability to love ourselves with boundaries rather than abandonment.

    Grace, I’ve learned, is rarely delivered as “I told you so.” God does not shame us with hindsight. Grace is extended from love—quietly, patiently—without the language of “you should have” or “why didn’t you.” Instead, grace says: Now you know. And knowing changes everything.

    This understanding has softened my relationship with my past. I no longer interrogate myself for what I didn’t know then. I honor who I was with the tools I had. Growth does not require self-punishment—it requires acceptance.

    Acceptance Without Self-Erasure

    Acceptance does not mean betraying your desires. It does not require you to prove your love by shrinking your wants, lowering your standards, or redesigning your future to make others more comfortable. Acceptance is not compliance.

    I am learning to lean into acceptance without changing the landscape of my wants. Without negotiating my needs. Without confusing patience with settling.

    Because settling has consequences.

    And I have learned—sometimes painfully—that the cost of settling is always higher than the cost of waiting, choosing again, or walking away.

    Counting the Cost

    I will continue to ask myself one question in this season: What is the cost?

    What is the cost of staying where I am tolerated but not cherished?

    What is the cost of silencing my intuition for the sake of harmony?

    What is the cost of convenience over calling?

    This question has become a form of self-respect. It keeps me aligned with God’s wisdom rather than my fear. It reminds me that love—divine or human—should not require self-abandonment as proof.

    Moving Forward

    As this year unfolds, I trust the pathways already laid. I trust the wisdom earned. I trust that God’s love will continue to guide me—not through coercion, but through clarity.

    I enter this year grounded in faith, sharpened by experience, and unwilling to settle for anything that costs me my peace.

    Grace has met me here.

    And I am ready. 🌿

    A Closing Prayer

    God of wisdom and gentle correction,

    Thank You for loving me without humiliation and guiding me without force. Thank You for the prayers You answered, the ones You delayed, and the ones You answered by changing me. As I step forward, help me to trust the pathways You have already established, even when I cannot see the full picture.

    Grant me discernment to know the cost of settling and the courage to choose what aligns with Your truth for my life. Teach me to accept what has been without diminishing what I still desire. May my wants be refined, not erased. May my love be rooted, not desperate. May my decisions be guided by wisdom rather than fear.

    Cover me with grace as I continue becoming.

    Amen.

    “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.” — Proverbs 3:5–6

    Soul-ing Quote:

    Emotional pain did not break me—it instructed me. What once hurt now highlights the wisdom I earned and the grace that carried me forward.

    ✨🌿✨

    Be brave,

    Michelle

    ©️Intimately Worded, Michelle.

  • Safer Waters

    Safer Waters

    Solitude. Replenish. Grateful.

    Writer: Michelle Tillman
    Favorite Things: Summer Reads—Romance & Poetry Perfect Lip Gloss, Lavender Pens for Love Notes

    I’m moving towards safer waters not out of fear but out of love…for myself, for others.

    I love my space. I love my love for others. I’m unlearning all consuming love—unlearning the thought, that if I control IT there will not be any room for deep hurt. I am learning not to separate how I love to the way I love. I no longer hold back trying to figure out in which way I will be hurt next. Ahhh, Love.🌻 I still do not know what is the greatest way in sheltering yet I’m loving this space I have carved. My stitches of quiet time include falling in love with poetry once again. When able add, “The Sheltering” to your Readers’ List. I have included the link: https://books2read.com/KhayaRonkainen

    I have grown to value time, albeit with grace. Reading a romance novel every now and then reminds me of what love should be, without having my head in the clouds. I enjoyed reading this library find, it was just the right antidote, “The House on Blueberry Lane.” The author included just enough courage and hope to have me sipping wine, praying for rain with each turned page. Snuggling with Koda is an added #Godperk. 🐾

    As I age (with grace) —I do not believe I am lacking patience. I know that I do not like my time wasted, that’s with every aspect of life: driving, cooking, fellowship and friendship. In driving, I take the most scenic routes, away from the interstate. I am learning to cook healthier with buying strategically not just for convenience and eating well. I have upped my game with culinary knowledge. I am learning to date with care, my SelfCare. I want someone to be my greatest friend, supportive, dependable and trustworthy. I am expecting more—-without fearing what is next.

    What I know: consistency remains one of the simplest forms of love. Consistency creates stability and with stability comes structure and with structure— compassion. And so with hope imagined I’ll turn to words, books, note taking, perfect lip glosses, soul-nurturing, and prayers—-all the things that create this currency of living life possible: choosing Me.

    We have every right and reason to shine our lights, to do what is best for us and love our selves with care, truths and all the good things. No longer be afraid of what has happened—live in hope. I am more mindful of what is to come and this soul of mine—well I will always advocate for it’s navigational heart.

    Intimately Worded,

    Michelle

    Have courage, take heart

    “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3

  • Homework: Self Study💕

    In reflection this Sunday morning: My day off…I am still off my routine of things. It was struggle to enjoy my mani and massage pedi. I mindfully had to make myself sit and be taken care of— for they are doing great work.

    I’m noticing that I’m struggling within the easy parts of my life. My self maintenance is priority —yet even in that I’m resolved to what is the point. What is the point in all I’ve worked for and towards to be told that “there is something there.” I’m not professing hopelessness or helplessness. I’m still trying to figure out what I did wrong. I believe I’ve had to do something wrong that requires punishment. Right?Right.

    Thursday mornings are my spiritual companionship times w/ my Spiritual Advisor. We’ve been together over a year now and I would say she knows me better than most. She affirms me in who I am, how I am, how I love and how I want to be loving. She doesn’t push unless she recognizes that I am not present. She gets me, all of me. Although, this Thursday morning was a struggle too—to hear her, to want to be there. Through this tough time that I am struggling with…I am fussing and complaining about mistreatment towards me, towards others, how this world is cruel at it’s best and it’s worst; I fuss about friendships, about abuse; about it all. She quietly asks me to “overstand, to know that not everyone has your gift.”

    I chuckled silently and think, I’m struggling to inner-stand, understand where I am. I acknowledge that, no one is holding space for me. Deep sigh. I am committed to surviving with thriving–this in-betweenness is difficult. This week’s wins: I woke every morning with purpose. I reached out to patients outside of working hours due to their hurts along their journey. I took two vacation days without working and finishing notes. I am planning for workshops in 2022 with strategic hope. I daily connected with my children and spent time with my granddaughter. I talked to my sister and my biological Aunt Shirley. My Koda is without a doubt the most loving furbaby ever.

    What I am learning: we love easier when we allow our changes to come softly. When it feels the most is falling apart…maybe the transitions bring all we’ve wanted to fruition and all is coming together. It all looks different, fearful. We’ve never been in this position before. I never expected love throughout this type of season. Redefine Love for yourSelf. My father told me once: “Michelle you’re just running in the field of flowers.” Of course, there was an hour long lecture about relationships after that. I was a teen.☺️
    It’s 30 years later and I get it. I comprehend those wisdom highlights more so than ever. I miss him.

    I anticipated and wanted “Love” happy, without sadness, without work. There are consequences to our choices. Undoubtedly, there are benefits to our choices as well. Every rejection, disappointment, their “no” can possibly set us on an extraordinary different path. Stop attaching your future to leftovers, to what is left. You’re dodging bullets left and right, Woman! Rise up. Level up. Do you. Protect yourSelf with love—be loving– intuitively. This is…this betterment is actual; it is what is tangible, intangible. This journey, our blessings are necessary. Our lessons learned. Our experiences personal. Everything is happening for your good—-even the current pain of right now. Choose You again and again—intimately and faithfully.

    Words for thought: Scripture: Luke 22:31-32

    Intimately Worded,

    Michelle