A few months ago, I got engaged.

Some of you might have seen it on Instagram. Some of you might have seen my cheesy caption on Facebook. You might have squealed in excitement, you might have sent me a text or given me a giant hug. Some of you, might have sighed, might have been slightly disappointed, thinking about another random girl on your Instagram explore page getting engaged and wondering if it would ever be you. Some of you might have seen a guy getting on his knee and began to question your own worth, your own beauty, your own value.

Today, I am here to tell you something different.

You see, it would be easy, so incredibly easy, for me to sit here and tell you why I love this phase of my life. I could babble on about how he proposed, exactly what he said when he got down on one knee, but I have chosen not to do that. I am here to tell you something different. Something so much more wildly important than my own proposal story. Something I don’t think people hear enough. Something us engaged girls aren’t telling the world.

Getting engaged didn’t change me.

Getting engaged has not made me perfect.

I know what you’re thinking, because I have thought it too. I have watched friends and sisters get engaged, plan weddings, try on wonderful dresses, and I have sat there believing that they have it all together. They have finally made it.

I wish I could tell you that I have finally made it. That after the proposal have been sweet bliss. That all of the sudden, my hidden insecurities and comparisons have dissipated. But they haven’t. I make phone calls and look at wedding venues and still long to be perfect. I still look at other girls and wonder if I could just me more like them, while the world and you, probably believe I must feel so entirely loved. I still walk in anxiety even though I am planning a wedding. I still live in fear even though I have found “the one.”

This ring hasn’t changed me. Because a man getting down on one knee hasn’t fixed me.

You, my dear friends, are not seeing the whole story. You don’t have the complete picture. A long time ago, God started writing my love story and it didn’t end or begin with Jake saying I love you. So that is what I am here to tell you. Not the dreams of my wedding, not the marriage I hope to have. I am here to tell you that God started a work in me and you a long time ago, and one proposal isn’t the whole story.

I was sixteen when I thought I found the one. I fell for the bliss of being wanted and  was intoxicated with the infatuation of being “loved.” That love I believed in as a sixteen year old girl was not the action type of love, not the sacrifice type of love, but the love that contained a lot of empty promises and shattered hearts. God started writing my love story when that boy told me he loved me, and when three years later, he told me that love no longer existed. I believed in a love that didn’t persist, and God picked me up, found me in my mess, and told me he was going to redefine my definition of love.

I spent a lot of time healing, which is the nice way of saying I spent a lot of time crying and calling my best friends on the phone. I spent a lot of time questioning if I had any worth at all, believing the undeniable lie that when a boy tells you he doesn’t love you, you are entirely unloveable. I had no idea what love was and no clue what God was doing. But you see, this is the story. This is what I want to tell you. This is not what you see when you look at my engagement post on Instagram. You don’t see the hurt. You don’t see the healing. You don’t see the story Jesus began writing a long time ago. But it’s important. Don’t miss it.

A year later, is when I met Jake. A good part of me had sworn of love and I was confident in living the single life until Jesus called me home. I never wanted to date again, because dating left me messy and broken and confused. But Jake was kind and gentle, and spoke of The Lord with boldness that inspired me. He heard of my past and told me I was worth it. Jesus was writing my love story, going fierce with a pen and paper I couldn’t yet see.

Now, I am engaged to that same boy who made me laugh while drinking black coffee, and though I am giddy with excitement, I am still here. I am still messy. I am still struggling. I still cried in the car last night because I am just so overwhelmed. Jesus is still writing, still working on my definition of love, still chasing after the heart that I tried to give away when I was 16 to a boy who didn’t want it. When you look at me, at my ring, at my wedding, I don’t want you to see a girl you believe has finally made it. I want you to see the whole story. The beautiful script Jesus started writing a long time ago. The story that broke me and healed me and made me new. The story that is still being written.

This post is for you, the single girl who believes no boy will love her.

The girl who just ended the relationship she thought would last a lifetime. The girl who sighed, or maybe even cried, when she say another proposal on Instagram. This post is for the girl waiting on her boyfriend to propose, believing that all of life’s problems will be solved when she finally has a ring. I am no more loved, no more cherished, no more adorned than you are, right here, in this moment. This ring on my finger does not make me more lovely, more worthy, more valuable. This ring symbolizes the never ending love story God is writing. And believe me. He is writing yours too.

You, yes you.

You are more loved than you will ever know.