Celibacy Testimony and Emotional Honest with God

To watch the full video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMgkXrL7yJo

There are some prayers we say because they sound spiritual, and then there are prayers we pray because we are finally tired of pretending.

In this episode of Hey! Let’s Heal, I’m opening up about one of the most personal parts of my journey: my celibacy testimony, my healing process, and the moment I learned that God did not just want my polished prayers. He wanted my emotional honesty.

Back in 2010, I made a commitment to God that the next man I would be intimate with would be my husband. At the time, I was tired. I was tired of giving pieces of myself away, tired of temporary affection, and tired of living one way on Saturday night and showing up another way on Sunday morning. What I did not fully understand then was that my decision to be celibate was not just about sex. It was about surrender. It was about healing. It was about learning that my body, my heart, and my story were worth honoring.

For years, I could attract men, but I struggled to believe that I was enough. I had to face the truth that some of my choices were not rooted in love, but in emotional voids. I wanted to feel seen. I wanted to feel known. I wanted to feel loved. And for a season, I allowed temporary intimacy to answer questions that only God could truly heal.

That is why celibacy became more than a rule for me. It became a mirror.

It showed me where I was broken. It revealed where shame had been speaking louder than truth. It helped me see the places where trauma had shaped my expectations, my relationships, and my view of myself.

But here is the part I want every woman to understand: celibacy is not a transaction with God.

God does not reward women with healthy husbands simply because they chose to wait. A beautiful marriage is not a prize you earn by being “pure enough.” That is one of the painful messages many women have carried from purity culture, and I want to speak directly to that. Waiting on God is not about performing for approval. It is about trust. It is about honoring what He gave you. It is about learning how to love yourself enough to stop settling for what keeps reopening the wound.

One of the greatest decisions I made was to honor my body and stop giving access to people who were never called to cover me.

But even after years of waiting, I still had to get honest.

Around year eight of my celibacy journey, I found myself journaling and praying prayers that were not cute, religious, or filtered. I told God the truth. I told Him I was ready for marriage. I told Him I desired intimacy with my husband. I told Him what I needed, what I wanted, and what I was afraid to say out loud.

And that is when something shifted.

I stopped praying vague prayers and started getting specific. I did not just ask for “a man of God,” because I had learned that not everyone who carries that title has the character, maturity, or calling to walk with me. I began to tell God how I wanted to meet my husband. I told Him I wanted a story. I wanted to meet him in a way that allowed friendship, safety, and trust to form before emotions and attraction took over.

And God honored that.

He allowed me to meet my husband in the exact kind of environment I had written down and prayed for: among friends, without pressure, without immediate romantic attachment, and without me trying to force a story before its time.

That still amazes me.

But I also need to say this: marriage did not erase the work. Relationships take work. Marriage takes work. And when I started preparing for the kind of love I had prayed for, I had to face the broken behaviors I was bringing with me. I had to realize that I could not punish a man for wounds he did not create. I had to heal what trauma had taught me before I could fully receive what God was trying to build.

That is why emotional honesty with God matters so much.

Some of us do not pray specific prayers because we are ashamed of what we desire. We think our needs are too much, too human, too messy, or not “Christian enough.” But God is not shocked by your honesty. He is not intimidated by your desires. He is not ashamed of the places where you are still healing.

Jesus came close enough to empathize with what we go through. That means you can bring Him the real prayer, not just the edited one.

You can tell Him, “I want to be loved.”

You can tell Him, “I want a healthy marriage.”

You can tell Him, “I am tired of being alone.”

You can tell Him, “I am struggling with shame.”

You can tell Him, “I do not know how to stop choosing what hurts me.”

You can tell Him the truth.

For me, shame had deep roots. There were parts of my story connected to trauma, abuse, rejection, and feeling unworthy. I had to confront the belief that my worth was tied to my appearance, my desirability, or what I could offer someone physically. Healing required me to stop letting shame narrate my identity and start letting God restore the parts of me I had been hiding.

That is why this conversation is not only about celibacy. It is about wholeness.

It is about learning to trust God with your body, your emotions, your trauma, your calling, your relationships, and your future. It is about letting Him into the places you have been afraid to name. It is about realizing that emotional honesty is not disrespectful to God; it is often the doorway to deeper intimacy with Him.

So if you are in a season where you are waiting, healing, praying, rebuilding, or trying to believe that God still writes beautiful stories, I want you to know this: He can handle your truth.

You do not have to perform your way into healing. You do not have to pretend you are not hurting. You do not have to settle for temporary comfort when God is trying to restore your identity, your confidence, and your ability to receive healthy love.

Be honest with Him.

Write it down. Pray it out. Tell Him what you need. Tell Him what scares you. Tell Him what you desire. Tell Him where shame has been loud. Then allow Him to heal you, lead you, and teach you how to trust again.

God met me in my honesty, and I believe He can meet you in yours too.