I Let Go Of My Blanket


Thought I knew what love was

Thought I knew what love was

I thought I knew what love was

But it’s better

It’s better

-Amanda Cook

This stanza has been replaying in my head for the past few days. Coming out of a season of disappointment and wandering in my grief, I’m realizing how I have to take my place as a queen without forsaking my training as a warrior.

I’ve been fighting for so long, that’s all I’ve known. I’ve had to fight snakes, murmurs, petty females, misogyny, Jezebel’s, Absaloms, fools, myself… whewww, it’s been tiring. Realistically, I can’t control every narrative about my personal life. To some people, I’m a fool chasing a pipe dream for someone who doesn’t want me. To others, I’m an alpha female whose too intimidating to use because I can’t be “controlled”. I’m okay with all the narratives. I don’t have to prove anything to anyone, it’s just funny how God will make you rest.

I’ve had to be on edge to protect my own heart and I almost lost myself. I think that’s what the enemy wanted, for Dee to lose Dee. But I’m here. I’m not who I was but I love who I’m becoming. I will admit, I almost forgot about the beauty of being soft, sensitive, feminine, open and dependent and because I was at war.

I was fighting for my father, and he won.

I was fighting for my mom, she’s winning.

I was fighting for love, and I didn’t need to.

I was fighting to be heard, and God spoke for me.

I was fighting God, and he didn’t cut me off. He let me learn.

For some reason, I held onto hurt like I use to cling to my blanket when I was little. I never really understood why I was so attached to that blanket, it seemed like a natural response at the time… until now. When I needed comfort, I grabbed the blanket. It made me feel safe because I gave it value.


As a grown woman, I can admit that I haven’t outgrown my six year self that instinctively knew something that the mature Dee forgets….. that I still to be picked up, held, hugged, seen, understood, close.

As a grown woman, I can admit that I haven’t outgrown my six year self that instinctively knew something that the mature Dee forgets….. that I still to be picked up, held, hugged, seen, understood, close.

When I grabbed my blanket, nothing changed around me - my perspective of my surroundings changed because my comforter was with me. When I got older, I had to let the blanket go. In my mind, I thought I stopped sleeping with my blanket in middle school, but now, I realize I just exchanged my physical blanket for a mental one.

My pain became my blanket. My pain became a place of comfort. Releasing this blanket of pain and disappointment felt… weird. It’s been with me so long that being free feels odd.

I feel… lighter.

Maybe that’s an indication that I’m safe.

Maybe “letting go” of the safety net that pain created was the whole point of the past 24 months.


Maybe God was defending me from the pain I fought with.

Maybe the love, partnership, newness and restoration that I’m experiencing now was always the point of the journey - I just didn’t see it.


Maybe in some distorted way, pain protected me. Pain unifies us the body of Christ. Pain corrects us and it sends us a signal that something is wrong in our body.

Maybe this whole time, pain was sending me a mixed message.

Maybe the pain I felt wasn’t an issue of something being wrong, maybe it was God’s way of telling me that I was healing.


Whatever the case, I’m all in.




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