Lesson 4 of 30: Never assign one person to be your everything.

The past five years of my life have held more transitions than the rest of my life combined—and that’s saying something. My childhood was marked by movement: family to family, relocation to relocation, country to country. In many ways, my earliest memories were defined by instability. And like many of us do when life feels uncertain, I learned to cling. Cling to people. Cling to relationships. Cling to anyone or anything that offered a sense of safety or identity.

At 15, I entered a relationship that lasted six years. By 23, I found myself in another nearly two-year relationship. At 25, I realized I had spent only two years of my adult life single. It was amid the ending of that second relationship that I truly saw how much of my identity had been shaped around another person in my life, all my life. It was in the midst of that deconstruction of what was where My Eternal Person found me.

When that relationship officially came to a close, it felt like my life had ended too. I remember lying in bed, unable to move, paralyzed by the void. But in that place of utter brokenness, My Person reminded me that He chose before that relationship, before I became a doctor, before my first steps, before my mothers womb. He reminded me, that he had already made up His mind to give me life. Not just existence. Not just survival. Life.

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.

Jeremiah 1:5

And so began the most important relationship of my life.

Over the past four years, I’ve walked a path of intentional singleness and celibacy. I didn’t just decide to be alone. I chose to be whole. I chose to stop making people my everything. I chose to stop making love an idol. I chose to let God rebuild me.

Let me be clear: I’ve been tested. Again and again, I’ve been tempted to reach back. Back into patterns of needing people to be my safety net and comfort. But what I’ve learned is that Jesus is my everything. He’s not just my foundation - He is the house. He’s the roof, the walls, the light inside. And when He is your everything, every other relationship can find its rightful place. Without that, every relationship becomes a shaky substitute for security, identity, or purpose. I’ve made up my mind that in this season—and every season to come—I will live. Not merely survive. Please note, there is a difference.

So let’s cut to the chase of this lesson: Never assign one person to be your everything.. That’s not love. That’s codependency. And it is not a way of life. It’s a trauma response. A survival strategy. And it cannot sustain you.

Here’s the truth: No one was designed to carry the weight of being your everything. Not a partner. Not a best friend. Not even a spiritual leader. We were never meant to give that role to anyone but God.

Codependency is when we lean on someone else to meet every emotional, mental, and spiritual need. We start to expect them to fill every void, heal every hurt, hold every burden. And when they inevitably fall short—we fall apart. Not because they failed, but because we asked them to do what only God can.

It may feel like connection, but it’s not freedom. And we were called to freedom.

“You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love.”

Galatians 5:13

Codependency is sneaky. It dresses up as love, loyalty, even faithfulness. But underneath, it’s fear. Fear of being alone. Fear of being unseen. Fear that you don’t matter without someone beside you.But God’s love doesn’t operate out of fear. It casts fear out. And it calls us into a love that’s rooted in truth, not trauma.

So if you find yourself clinging—not out of covenant but out of fear—pause. Breathe. Come back to your foundation. You were never meant to be everything to someone else, and no one else was ever meant to be everything to you. Only One is worthy of that place.

Jesus is everything - and because of that, I can now love from a place of wholeness, not desperation. I can give freely because I am not drained. I can serve from overflow, not emptiness. I can build relationships, not lose myself in them. This is what freedom looks like. And this is the life I choose.

CONCLUSION:

So for my 30’s…

I’m building relationships that bless, not break. I’m no longer clinging to others for identity or safety. I’ve found both, fully and finally, in Christ alone. I will love deeply, but not desperately. I will connect, but not collapse. I will serve, but not strive. I am grounded, whole, and free to grow into the woman God has always called me to be.

I am grounded, whole, and free to grow into the woman God has always called me to be.

And I believe the same is possible for you.

Now you know,

You can grow.