TWO MONTHS BEFORE Part 9 : What I Actually Learned (Not the Instagram Version) This isn't a neat testimony with three points and a prayer. This is a messy truth from the trenches of a hard decision. Here's what I really learned: 1. Spiritual discernment isn't mystical—it's often just wisdom dressed in prayer. My father couldn't articulate what was wrong with Chris because it wasn't one big obvious thing. It was a thousand small things: The way Chris's smile didn't reach his eyes when he thought no one was looking. The way he deflected every time someone asked him a direct question about his life. The way he needed constant validation from women but called his fiancée insecure when she noticed. The way his charm felt performative, like a show he'd practiced. My father's "lack of peace" wasn't spiritual mysticism. It was decades of observing people and recognizing patterns that I, blinded by hope and desperation, .couldn't see. Sometimes the Holy Spirit speaks through the discernment of people who've lived longer and seen more than we have. 2. "God told me" can be spiritual manipulation—even when you're doing it to yourself. I convinced myself God had sent Chris because: - He appeared when I needed help (timing!) - He was a Christian (church attendance!) - He quoted scripture (spiritual!) - The proposal felt like a movie (romantic!) But I confused coincidence with providence. I confused Christian culture with Christian character. I confused emotional highs with spiritual confirmation. God also gave me: - Parents with wisdom - A mentor with discernment - Red flags I kept ignoring - A lack of peace that never went away But I only wanted to listen to the "signs" that confirmed what I already wanted. That's not faith. That's wishful thinking with a Bible verse attached. 3. Breaking up is not the same as giving up. People told me I gave up too easily. That relationship takes work. That I should have tried harder. But here's the thing: You can't "work on" someone who doesn't think there's a problem. I tried for five months to: - Communicate concerns (he called me controlling) - Suggest counseling (he called it unnecessary) - Point out red flags (he called me insecure) - Set boundaries (he called it lack of trust) At some point, trying harder just means tolerating more. Walking away from Chris wasn't giving up. It was wisdom. It was self-preservation. It was choosing reality over potential. And it took more strength than staying ever would have. 4. The red flags were always there—I just kept repainting them green. Month 1: "He doesn't want me earning more than him" → He's just traditional Month 2: "He wants me away from my family" → He just wants more time together Month 3: "He flirts with other women" → I'm just jealous Month 4: "He refuses accountability" → He's just private Looking back, I can't believe how creative I was at making excuses. But that's what happens when you want something badly enough. You become a defense attorney for someone who doesn't even deserve a trial. 5. Peace matters more than plans. For months, I had no peace. Not a day. Not an hour. Not even a moment. Every time I thought about the wedding, my stomach knotted. Every time Chris and I fought, I couldn't sleep. Every time my father looked at me with concern, I felt sick. But I kept pushing forward because: - The venue was booked - The dress was being made - People were expecting it - I'd already said yes I valued my plans more than my peace. And I almost paid for it with my entire life. Here's what I learned: When you lose peace about a decision and it doesn't come back even after prayer, that's not anxiety. That's an answer. The absence of peace IS God speaking. And I'm learning to listen to it, even when it costs me everything I thought I wanted. 6. God's "no" is not punishment—it's protection. I used to think God was withholding good things from me. Keeping me single while blessing everyone else. Now I understand: He wasn't saying no to marriage. He was saying no to THAT marriage. There's a difference. God's "no" to Chris was protection from: - Years of walking on eggshells - A lifetime of gaslighting - Children raised watching their mother shrink - A home without peace - A marriage without partnership - A life without joy When God closes a door, stops a relationship, blocks a path—it's not because He's mean. It's because He sees what's on the other side, and He loves you too much to let you go there. 7. Your family's concerns aren't always about control—sometimes they're about care. I spent months thinking my father was being overprotective. That he didn't trust me. That he wanted to control my life. I was wrong. He was trying to protect me from something he could see but couldn't prove. And when I finally walked away, he didn't say "I told you so." He just said, "Thank God." Our parents aren't perfect. They won't always be right. But when multiple people who love you—who have no agenda except your wellbeing—are all saying the same thing? Listen. They might see something you can't see when you're in the middle of it. These lessons cost me: - ₦1 million in lost deposits - Six months of my life - My reputation in some circles - Relationships with people who took his side - The dream of being married by 30 But they saved me from: - A lifetime of misery - Children in a toxic home - Losing myself completely - Living without peace - Never knowing my worth So when people ask if I regret calling off the wedding, my answer is simple: Not for one single second. The lessons hurt. But they didn't break me. They made me who I am today. © Adebimpe Obafemi #TwoMonthsBefore #LessonsLearned #ChristianSingles #Back2Eden #SpiritualGrowth