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Dear Reader,
You’re not alone in feeling this way. Many of us have been through it—the discouragement, the longing, and the emotional weight that comes with waiting on something deeply desired, especially as your birthday approaches. You’ve prayed, done all the right things, and yet love still feels out of reach. The men who show up aren’t right for you, and while you refuse to settle out of desperation, your heart still aches with longing. It feels like if only God would answer this one prayer, everything would be okay.
But behind that desire lies a quiet pain. It’s why you feel withdrawn, why your moods shift. Sometimes, it’s like carrying a dark cloud around. You want to shake it off, but it clings to you. The loneliness, when it hits, is overwhelming. It feels like you’re endlessly falling through a dark, silent space. Weekends are the hardest—they remind you how empty your apartment can feel without someone to share it with. Even sleep doesn’t bring peace when those thoughts follow you into your dreams.
You go through the motions—cook, eat, live—alone. And while the company of a friend brings some relief, it can still feel like you’re both just trying to stay afloat, masking the sadness with smiles and strength. At times, it feels like God has gone silent, and your mind begins to wander to places you never thought it would.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, you lie awake and cry. You show up at work with a smile, but inside you’re exhausted—emotionally drained. Then another engagement is announced, another wedding planned, and it stings. You start to wonder if your standards were too high. You reflect on past years, especially the one you were sure you’d be married. That year came and went.
You’ve imagined the day. The dress. The vows. The joy. All that’s missing is the man. And it seems like every good one you meet is already taken—married or unavailable. You’ve even outgrown being the bridesmaid. Now at weddings, you feel more like the helpful aunt. You wish marriage followed the order of age. You know you’re attractive, you know you’d make a good partner—but somehow, the men don’t see it.
You’re careful not to appear too eager in social spaces, worried you might seem desperate. But that caution also attracts the wrong people—opportunists who see your stability as something to lean on. Some even flatter you by saying you don’t look your age, but deep down, it doesn’t feel like a compliment when you realize they’re too immature for what you want in life.
This loneliness can sometimes lead to decisions you later regret. You know they’re not right, yet you still go through with them—hoping for comfort, maybe clarity. But it doesn’t help. It just leaves you feeling emptier. And in your quiet moments, you ask God for forgiveness, unsure if you can promise not to go back down that road.
In those moments, all we want is one small encouragement. A sign. A call. Something to say we’re still seen and heard. We want to share our pain, but we’re not sure who to trust. And that makes us feel even more isolated.
But here’s the truth: real encouragement has to come from within. It starts by reminding yourself of the strength you’ve shown in the past. You’ve overcome so much—don’t forget that. If you take time to reflect on what you’ve already conquered, hope can grow from that place. Because really, what else can you do? Love will come when it comes.
In the meantime, don’t let your life come to a halt. Expand your circle. Don’t isolate yourself. Call someone. Go out. Socialize. Laugh. Dance. Live. Whether or not you have a partner, connection with others is healing. Don’t let your current season define your entire story.
You’re stronger than you feel right now. Tomorrow still holds so many promises. Keep going, and hold on to hope. And I truly hope this letter helps you in some way.
With love,
Dion Jennifer
