When my favorite priest and confessor asked me if I wanted to talk about anything during Confession before he assigned a penance, I was already prepared. By that point, a question had burned in my mind for weeks: “Father, I don’t really know how to word this. But if you could, would you give me some tips on developing a romantic relationship with Jesus?”

Growing up, I wasn’t often exposed to romantic love. The romantic love I did see was rather fantastical, like Cinderella deciding to spend her life with Prince Charming after dancing with him for just a few minutes.

When I became an adult, I searched for romantic love physically. I’d meet a man, chalk up a few evenings to romance, be disappointed when things did not go any further, and then search for someone else to fix my disappointment. I met a lot of terrible people along this path. As a result, my trust in men plummeted, and my hope of finding romantic love waned.

It was finally revealed to me a few years ago, rather painfully, that I severely lacked an understanding of romantic love.

I met a guy, and we quickly became friendly. I wanted our friendship to become something deeper as I learned more about him. He asked me how my mornings were going, sent me poetry throughout the day, and engaged me in long conversations on diverse and wonderful topics. I valued every second of his company.

When I thought things were going a certain way, I started to push him to bed. If he loved me romantically like I had assumed, then he would show it by having sex with me. He occasionally returned the desire, but remained largely reserved. Growth in my own faith and spiritual maturity were the lowest of my priorities at the time, and so I failed to see that he had his own struggles and was working hard to become a stronger Christian man.

Growth in my own faith and spiritual maturity were the lowest of my priorities at the time, and so I failed to see that he had his own struggles and was working hard to become a stronger Christian man.

I pushed him so hard that his responses to me dwindled. When I asked him what happened, he told me that it seemed like I was too obsessed with sex.

I was so hurt. Too obsessed with sex? When he had returned my affections? I was too obsessed with wanting him to love me the best way I understood?

These were the questions I asked myself during that conversation and continued to ask for a long time afterward. They were the justifications I used to absolve myself for communicating to him that I was mostly interested in his body.

When I later converted to Catholicism, it was the Church’s theological teachings on love and forgiveness that forged my path.

For so long, I allowed the shame of my hookups to prevent me from pursuing a relationship with Jesus. It wasn’t until I learned more about my Confirmation saint, St. Mary Magdalene, that I began to feel the hope of redemption. If Jesus befriended a sinful woman who was often associated (though somewhat incorrectly) with sexual sin, then He could befriend me. If Jesus chose her over all of His disciples and even His own mother to be the first to learn of the Resurrection, then there was a chance for my own spiritual journey.

From there, I learned about the beauty of Confession. While I was unable to attend Confession at the beginning of my formation (and I didn’t experience my first good Confession until after my Confirmation), I looked forward to being able to confront the sins that had long haunted me and receive real forgiveness for them.

One of the most pivotal moments in my faith formation was learning about the practice of veiling. In addition to its humbling aspect, many have compared veiling before the Blessed Sacrament to a bride presenting herself to her groom at a wedding.

One of the most pivotal moments in my faith formation was learning about the practice of veiling.

That symbolism shook me.

For years, I believed myself to be, in a way, diseased, undesirable to Christian men because I’d had sex before marriage (never mind the fact that many Christian men also struggle in this regard). To overcome my guilt, I veiled in Mass. I closed my eyes and imagined myself walking down the aisle to meet a love who desired me. With this image in my head, the barriers I put in front of Jesus began to crumble.

That’s not to say that my insecurities were completely erased. I still dread marriage, or at least the possibility of meeting a man in the dating process who chooses shaming over understanding.

These insecurities only pushed me closer to religious women. In fact, I’ve had the honor of befriending a Dominican sister in Nashville, who lovingly hosts me for tea, baked goods, and a rosary or evening prayers at the motherhouse. As I cultivated this beautiful friendship and sought to learn more about religious women, I witnessed how they developed a spiritual and spousal relationship with Jesus. Even as my formation matured, treating Jesus like a spouse seemed so foreign to me.

A priest piqued my interest one day when he mentioned spiritual marriage in Confession. I thanked him for hearing my first good Confession, which I can honestly say radically changed my life. In response, he said that kind words from the laity were comparable to receiving a compliment from a spouse. I smiled when I heard that. After all, he was married to the Church!

Leaving the Confessional, I mulled over his sentiments, as well as those expressed by the religious sisters I knew. Their relationships with Christ and His flock were deeply passionate, but in a way that wasn’t the slightest bit sexual. Since my idea of passion had included sex or other physical touch for so long, I was intrigued.

Weeks later, it finally it me: This relationship they talked about was born of the romantic love for which I had long searched.

This brings me back to the question I posed in Confession. As his answer, the priest showed me a picture of The Light of the World, a painting by William Holman-Hunt. The image draws inspiration from Jesus in Revelation 3:20, as He knocks on a door and asks to be invited in. In this verse, it is Jesus’ hope to dine with person who answers. The priest noted Jesus’ clothes in the painting: He is dressed like a groom hoping to meet His bride. Father encouraged me to place myself on the other side of the door. Jesus was asking to spend time with me, His bride!

Father also spoke of the soul, observing that it is inherently feminine, even for men. Due to this nature, our souls long for Jesus like a bride longs for her groom.

Our souls long for Jesus like a bride longs for her groom.

I went to an Adoration chapel after Confession and recorded Father’s words in my journal. As I recounted his comments on the femininity of our souls, I thought of something that had confused me a few months earlier: a reading at Mass on St. Mary Magdalene’s feast day.

It was the first reading, Song of Songs 3:1-4. This passage describes a woman searching for her love. She went into the city and asked for help in her search. When she finally found the one whom her soul loves, she “held him and would not let him go.”

I distinctly remembered sitting in Mass that morning, wondering what this couple’s woes had to do with St. Mary Magdalene. I was clearly not paying attention as closely as I should have been, because the Gospel reading, Jesus’ appearance to her as recorded in the Gospel of John, describes something similar.

Because of St. Mary Magdalene’s great love for Jesus, she searched for His body when she thought someone took it away. After Jesus finally revealed Himself to her, Scripture tells us, He told her, “Stop holding on to me.” He presumably said this because, like the woman in Song of Songs, she embraced the one her soul loved after finding Him.

How beautifully do these examples express the desire, joy, and reciprocity that produces romantic love. Jesus reserves great love for us by asking to spend intimate time with us. Even as He asks, He gives us the free will to choose Him. Hopefully, we, in turn, reserve great love for Jesus by searching for Him and embracing Him each time we’re in His presence.

Jesus reserves great love for us by asking to spend intimate time with us. Even as He asks, He gives us the free will to choose Him.

It feels like a long struggle has finally come to an end and a new era of discovery is beginning. At last, I have found the one whom my soul loves.