We always hear the classic male love story: “When she walked into the room, I knew she was my wife.” A guy will lock eyes with a woman across the room, and just like a movie, he claims he saw his future. The fellas love to tell the tale—like some internal fireworks went off and his whole being whispered, “That’s her.”

But for women? It’s different. I’ve rarely heard women say, “I knew he was the one the moment I saw him.” That whole love-at-first-sight thing doesn’t hit us the same. Maybe it’s because we don’t always allow ourselves to know—we’re too busy measuring, calculating, praying, healing, unlearning, and making sure we don’t get played.

Only one woman ever told me, “I knew he was the one when I had a problem and thought to call my boyfriend first before I thought to call my father.” That one stuck with me. Not because it was poetic, but because it was real. There was safety there. Trust. Dependability. Something sacred about switching emotional allegiance from your father (the man who covered you) to your man (the one who now would). That’s not small—it’s everything.

As for me? I prayed and asked the Lord to reincarnate himself so I could marry Him on this earth. Yes, you read that right. I knew my husband was the one when I saw the Lord in him. Not perfection. Not prophecy. But peace. Kindness. Vision. Strength under control. He didn’t come with a glittery box and a fairytale script, but he did come with fruit. And that’s how I knew.

It’s a running joke between us now—I married God in human form. (Don’t come for my theology. It’s a metaphor. Stay with me.) But truly, when a man walks with God, he will lead with God, and that’s the most attractive thing you’ll ever encounter.

My mentor believes you marry a man and make him into what you want. She always says, “God said, Let us make man,” and she means that thing. That’s her ministry. She believes in taking the raw material of a good man and molding him into greatness with love, vision, patience, and prayer. I respect it.

But I also believe some of us know early. Not from a perfect checklist. Not from intense chemistry. But from the stillness in our spirit. The way God whispers, “This one is safe.” The way we suddenly become ourselves more fully around him. The way we stop needing to prove, perform, or pretend.

So today I ask you:
When did you know he was the one?
Not when your heart fluttered. Not when he made you laugh. But when your soul recognized something deeper. Did you feel it in your spirit? Did God confirm it in a dream? Or did you just feel peace when everything else felt loud?

Tell your story.
Because women have knowing too. It just doesn’t always start with sparks and fairy dust. Sometimes it starts with a phone call. A moment of calm. A joke that felt like home. A prayer answered in sneakers and a hoodie.

So again…
When did you know?

I still crush on my husband. No, really—I do. Years into this journey, after bills, babies, and everything life has thrown our way, something about that man still makes my heart skip a beat. It’s not just love—it’s a schoolgirl kind of nervousness. Every time he walks into a room, my eyes follow. I sit up straighter. I smile harder. I get butterflies.

And not in a casual, “he’s cute” kind of way. I mean full-on, heart-fluttering, can’t-sit-still, teenage-style butterflies. Years into marriage, after the everydayness of life—laundry, bills, school drop-offs, and grown-up decisions—he still walks into a room and makes my heart skip a beat.

Sometimes, it’s at home. He’ll come around the corner, fresh from a shower or just dressed up for the day, and I suddenly forget what I was doing. 

People assume that kind of energy fades with time. That marriage is all routines and responsibilities. But I’ve found the opposite can be true if you nurture it. The more I learn about my husband, the deeper my admiration grows. The more I see his character, his strength, the way he provides and covers our family in love and prayer, and spoils me—the more I swoon. He doesn’t even have to say anything. Just the sound of his keys in the door, or the way he casually calls my name from another room, still does something to me.

And no, it’s not because everything’s perfect. We’ve had real-life arguments, miscommunications, moments we didn’t see eye to eye. But through it all, I’ve never stopped seeing him. I’ve never stopped being in awe of the man I married. He doesn’t have to perform or pretend to impress me—he just has to be him.

There’s something so powerful about still feeling that thrill for your own husband. It’s a reminder that love doesn’t have to get stale. That admiration doesn’t have to expire. That you can still be in love and in like with your spouse.

I pray he always knows this: I don’t just love you—I like you. I admire you. I watch you from across the room like I just met you. You still make my heart race. You’re still my favorite crush.

Marriage doesn’t mean the butterflies have to die. Sometimes, if you keep your heart tender and your eyes open, the butterflies only get stronger.

And I thank God, every day, that mine still do. 🦋

Whatever happened to the art of the slow dance? My first slow (dance) jam was in the 7th grade. 

You know, those dimly lit rooms, the bass low and heavy, and the DJ playing that 90s R&B cut that had everybody pressing up close with their person. Back when “Can You Handle It” by Usher or “Any Time, Any Place” by Janet would come on, and suddenly everybody had a "boo thang" for the night.

You'd be slightly tipsy, moving in sync with someone, hands wandering respectfully (or not), and if the chemistry was right... well, let’s just say it was a done dada.

And if you ever lost or out of rhythm, he’d pull you in close and gently guide your hips until you moved in harmony with him, syncing as one.

But these days? It’s all poppin’, clappin’, and twerking. Don’t get me wrong — a little hype moment is fun. We love a good Meg or City Girls anthem to turn up. 

But when the entire night is one big bounce session with zero intention of a vibe shift? Chile... the romance is MIA, and the vibe is in distress.

Let’s Talk About It: What Happen To R&B and Slow Jamz

Once upon a time, R&B reigned in the club. You didn’t even need a section — just a strong cologne and some rhythm. If “Nice & Slow” or “Fortunate” came on, it was a wrap. 

He’d send a drink or two your way—sometimes even one for your homegirl, just to keep the vibe right. And once you were feeling it...

He’d grab you by the hand and lead you to the dance floor, sway like y’all had a future, and fall into that feel-good groove. It was sensual without being raunchy, romantic without being corny, and personal without being performative.

Remember when couples used to say, ‘This is our song,’ whenever it came on? They’d play it at their wedding, too.

You'd be slow wining with you man in front of grandma. 

And make no mistake your parents would be dancing too. 

Now? The DJ would get boo’d for trying to slow it down too much.

We’ve become a generation that treats intimacy like a pop-up ad: click out fast and keep scrolling. 

But back in the day, there was art in the way he held your waist tight while Ginuwine sang in the background. 

It was about chemistry, not choreography. It wasn’t about who could drop it the lowest — it was about who could hold that eye contact without blinking.

Getting Tipsy and Falling in Love (Temporarily)

Do y’all remember when getting tipsy meant slow sipping a dark drink and finding that one person to dance with for the rest of the night? That “bae” or “boo thang” for the evening, where the energy felt like a relationship beginning to happen?

What happened to throwing on that freak 'em dress and shutting it down?

It wasn’t always about hook-ups — sometimes, it was just the fun of feeling that you looked good, close to that someone, or it was the place where you met that special person that end up becoming you husband or wife. 

You might have even gotten their number or not. Going out with that special someone felt like vibes. Just “us” for tonight.

Afterwards? A slow stroll to the car. Maybe a lingering hug. Maybe more. Maybe not. But you went home feeling seen, desired, maybe even respected. It was grown. It was sexy. And it was missed.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Honestly? We can bring it back.

Start at home — play those old-school jams while you're cooking. Bring back the R&B playlists for date nights. If you host a party, dedicate a 30-minute or hour set to nothing but slow grooves.

Light a candle. Pour up. Remind people that touch and connection still matter.

Ladies, put on that body oil, that silk robe, and let Maxwell play. Fellas, stop being scared to sing in her ear — it still works. Let’s bring back the slow wind and the slow grind.

Let’s remember that intimacy doesn’t always scream — sometimes it hums softly in your ear, with the lights low, while Tank tells the story for you.

Romance In Our Music Shouldn’t Be On Mute

We might be in a turn-up generation, but deep down, everyone still wants a slow song with the one who makes their heart skip a beat. So, next time you’re out and the beat drops... maybe don’t run to the floor to twerk.

Maybe look around, find your person, your dance partner, and pull them close.

Let’s make slow dancing sexy again.

Drop your favorite slow jam in the comments. Let's build the ultimate slow grind playlist. 💿🔥

#SlowJamzForever #BringBackTheVibe #QueenAscendancy #DoneDadaEnergy

Let’s be real. Super real.

No more baby mamas and baby daddies. If that’s your story now, take responsibility and handle your business — but people of God, it’s time to level up. If you’re struggling mentally or emotionally, get some therapy.

It’s time we raise the standard and become husbands and wives for the sake of the next generation. No more showing up to the cookout with a new “plus one” every summer. Little Tae and Keisha are watching us, and they need to see what covenant looks like.

I want my kids, nieces, and nephews to grow up with marriage as the norm, not the exception. That is where the favor of God lives.

I just found out one of my god-babies had a child, and he's a father now, but didn’t marry her. I never imagined my baby would be someone baby daddy. And his friend who is married their self encouraging him not to marry her. She's a good woman, why not?

My heart sank. We can — and must — do better.

Is there a limit to how freaky a man is willing to be… with his wife?

God literally said:
👉 “Marriage is honorable among all, and the bed undefiled; but fornicators and adulterers God will judge.” — Hebrews 13:4 (NKJV)

I have brothers, cousins, and male friends. And from the way some of y’all sing, text, joke, and act behind closed doors — you're not shy. You're not vanilla. But you're conservative with your wife.

You're nasty.
You're bold.
You're loud.
You're unfiltered.

"In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated their own body, but they feed and care for their body, just as Christ does the church." Ephesians 5:28-29

You are to love your wife's body as your own. God says take ownership. 

But you only bring that energy to the side piece.

You write poems or sexting the girl who’s not cooking for you. 
You drop freaky lyrics on TikTok but go silent when your wife wants to try something new. Or you to talk nasty to her.

This is written in the bible: 

My love, my bride,

You have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with the sparkle of your beauty.

Your love is more delightful than wine, and the fragrance of you more than any spice.

How beautiful you are, my darling! Oh, how beautiful! Your eyes are like doves.

Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb; milk and honey are under your tongue.

The fragrance of your garments is like the scent of Lebanon.
You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you.

You have captivated me, my bride.

Your love is more precious than silver, sweeter than honey.
I long to climb your palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit.

Your stature is like a tall palm, and your breasts like clusters of fruit.

I am my beloved’s, and my desire is for you.

Come away with me, my beautiful one; the winter is past, the rains are over and gone.

The flowers appear on the earth, and the time of singing has come.

Forever yours,
Your Beloved

This is written from the heart of God....

You give passionate, creative, wild energy to women who didn’t vow to love you in sickness and health — but your wife gets the routine, robotic, barely-there performance.

Sir, explain that.

Marriage is supposed to be the legal right to have fun without guilt.

"Nevertheless, to avoid fornication, let every man have his own wife, and let every woman have her own husband." (KJV) - 1 Corinthians 7:2

So why not make your wife's fantasy come alive?

God didn’t say the marriage bed is “safe.”

He said it’s undefiled (Hebrews 13:4). That means free from shame, judgment, or restriction — as long as it's consensual and sacred.

But somehow, sex within marriage has become bland, silent, or even taboo — while sex outside of it is glorified, sung about, and celebrated.

You know what’s crazy?

When a wife wants to be sexually free with her husband, she’s often called “too much.”

But if she keeps it quiet and conservative, she's accused of not being “exciting enough.”

Which is it, sir?

Because the truth is: I didn’t marry you to play it safe. I married you to be sexually free.
Not to sit on the sidelines while you go live your freaky little double life.

Let me say this with love and confidence:

💥 I am not a whore.
💥 I want to be a whore for MY man — and that should be celebrated, not questioned.

There are wives out here fantasizing in silence.
Wanting more.
Craving connection.
But afraid of being judged for having desires.

And there are husbands out here craving excitement — but too afraid to unlock that door with their wife, because they think “good girls” don’t ask for that.

Stop that.

Your wife can love God and still want the lights on.

She can pray in tongues and still want to moan your name.

She can lead Bible study and still want to be flipped, pinned, and kissed in places that don’t get daylight.

You married her.
So give her the same energy you give in your fantasies, your songs, and your side texts.

Be the one who unlocks her deepest desires.
Be the one who asks her, “What do you want?”
Be the one who says, “Let’s try it. Together.”

“A bishop then must be blameless, the husband of one wife, vigilant, sober, of good behaviour, given to hospitality, apt to teach.” (KJV) --1 Timothy 3:2

And please don’t get it twisted — I’m talking about being that for my husband. Period. 

I am a wife and a Bishop of the Lord's house. 

We are building a culture of wives and husbands now.