My boyfriend and I were the picture of romance, and we were standing on my porch after a school dance. My high heels dangled from my manicured fingertips, and the tie he’d borrowed from his dad was draped jauntily around his neck. We giggled and joked as we recalled the evening, hiding from the world beneath a canopy of stars. I remember the nervous excitement as he hugged me goodbye and then, pulling away, gave me the look. I’d seen it painted across the face of beautiful actresses and studied it in countless romance movies. And then he kissed me. In his defense, it was a lovely kiss—sweet and innocent. But I couldn’t stop the nagging question that quickly bulldozed my Barbie® Dream House moment. I asked myself, Is that it?

Thinking Back . . .
Like many girls, my interest in boys began during my early teens. From the beginning of middle school, I started noticing boys—cute boys, athletic boys, funny boys. Any sort of boy would do, really, as long as they were looking for me too.

However, the ones who actually did like me were few and far between. I didn’t have my first real boyfriend until I was 16—and according to a lot of my friends that was a really long wait. I spent years preceding that relationship feeling inadequate, insecure and invaluable. I couldn’t help but think that if I was really as wonderful as my family insisted, guys would have liked me sooner.

It seemed that all the girls at my school had far more dating experience than I did. They knew exactly what to do and say to capture the attention of the male species. I looked around, angry with God that I hadn’t been born with the looks, personality or other magical talent that made guys flock to the other girls. Despite my best efforts and frustrated conversations with friends and family, my romantic prospects continued to evaporate.

During those years, I wasn’t able to understand my deep longing for male attention. Only a boy could really tell me I was good enough, that I mattered. If I could just get one guy to like me, all my doubts and questions about who I was would simply disappear. However, after all that time of self-pity and insecurity, God has shown me what drove me into the arms of my non-existent boyfriends.

Lessons Learned
When I was 5, my dad died, leaving my mom with my two older brothers and me. In the following years, the leadership and advice girls learn to expect from their fathers evaded me. Then, when I was 8, my mom married my step-dad, tossing another male figure into my life. While my stepfather is a great, godly man, he was essentially a stranger.

The change that came with my mother’s remarriage pushed me further into myself. I continued to expect nothing from the male leadership in my family, certain that anything my step-dad said couldn’t really be trusted. Men, like my dad, were easy to lose. As I grew up, I rejected the affirmation and love my step-dad tried to speak into me. No matter how many times he said, “You’re special,” “You’re beautiful,” “God has something great for you,” I couldn’t hear it.

Rather than listening to the voices of truth, I sought out another voice, a male voice. I convinced myself that I had to find my Prince Charming soon or remain single my whole life with a bunch of cats.

Thankfully, with time, I’ve acquired wisdom rather than cats. God has continued to teach me to accept what He says about me. The fact that I’ve only dated two boys my entire life is nothing compared to knowing that I’m His daughter, a beloved heir to His kingdom.

The fact that boys aren’t blowing up my phone is nothing compared to feeling how completely God rejoices in my life, yearns to be with me and offers me the greatest romance I will ever know.

It has been the purest joy to live in the identity of Christ, confident and secure in the new person God’s grace has made me. I strive to be who God tells me I am—a beautiful, incredible, sincerely loved creation.

A Heavenly Love
When I turn my heart to pursue God alone, any feelings of being abandoned on the porch disappear. I’ve never had to approach God with the question, “Is that it?” The love of Christ is far greater, far deeper and far better than anything I can experience on earth. I pray I continue to fall in love with my First Love.

Katelyn Lamb lives and writes in San Diego, Calif.