If you know me, then what I’m about to share is no big secret and no big surprise.
I have (I had? I’m working on this becoming past tense) a crush on this trainer at my gym. This isn’t my first time around this rodeo. Like I said, if you know me, I tend to develop crushes on guys who are hot trainers, hot bartenders, hot musicians, hot dancers. Hm. I’m sensing a theme. Okay, I promise I’m really not as shallow as I sound. As the Lord does, I, too, look at the heart,…underneath a man’s chiseled, hairless chest.
So, I accidentally found my crush’s Instagram. Accidentally. I promise I was not intentionally looking for any of his cyber footprints. Until recently, I didn’t even know his name, how could I cyber stalk? I was casually, innocently perusing Instagram when a close-up of his face materialized. His freakin’ hottie face. WHY LORD WHY. It was like cyber breadcrumbs beckoning me. So, dangit, how could I not click on the photo?! And, dangit, how could I not notice his Instagram handle (which happened to be his name)?! And, dangit, the next thing I know, I am casually perusing all his photos and marveling at how one dude could be so genetically blessed. And….y’know, sometimes I honestly wonder if the Lord or the devil is giving me inspiration and, how convenient, a Scripture is coming to mind.
“Let no one say when he is tempted, “I am being tempted by God”; for God cannot be tempted by evil, and He Himself does not tempt anyone. But each one is tempted when he is carried away and enticed by his own lust. Then when lust has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and when sin is accomplished, it brings forth death. Do not be deceived, my beloved brethren. Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow.” [James 1:13-17]
Okay, but, LORD. Every good and perfect thing comes from You!
Andddddd I just re-read the verse. Frack. It says, “Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above.” Well, as much as I would love for him to be gift wrapped in a big red bow and given to me as a gift, he’s definitely not for me and he’s definitely not mine. Sigh. Okay, fine, God. I guess You weren’t the one who led me to my crush’s Instagram page. God, I repent for thinking that the Holy Spirit led me to my crush’s Instagram page. I am sure I have a few other things to repent for – namely, all the stuff mentioned in James 1:13-17. ANYWAY. This mini-episode of conviction and repentance was not the point of this post – although I did get a very quick response to my question about the source of inspiration so thank You, Holy Spirit. I can always count on You to guide me into all truth and away from hot crushes and their Instagram pages.
Where was I. Oh yeah. So, I accidentally found my crush’s Instagram and discovered that homeboy models on the side. Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he? Somebody as beautifully sculpted and aesthetically gifted as him would be doing the world a disservice if he wasn’t eternally memorialized on the Interwebs. I also discovered that homeboy has a girlfriend. Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he? Although I admit, I am a little perplexed that somebody as fine as him would be willing to tie himself down to just one woman. Before you denounce me, for the record, I am in no way advocating or justifying promiscuity (or any correlation between hotness and promiscuity – though I have been known to say, if any man deserves to date young and date often, it’s George Clooney). Rather, I find it admirable that my trainer crush has chosen to commit to one woman even though: a) some may assume an inverse relationship between hotness and commitment level and; b) he appears to have little reason or need to tie himself down since, um, thanks to Instagram, I also know how young he is (which, by the way, is not my fault because isn’t Instagram supposed to be the app that tells stories with pictures and not with words?!?).
Anyway. I need to let myself finish the point of this blog post. So, a couple weeks ago, I suddenly realized that the inevitable was about to occur. What is “the inevitable?” The inevitable is this: God never fails to remind me that He is both the lover of my soul and the c@ckbl@cker of my flesh. In Biblical terms, this is essentially what is means for Jesus to be both the lion and the lamb. Every single time I develop a crush, an interest, an attraction, somewhere in heaven, the angel sent to protect me is like, “AW HELL NAW NINJA GET THEE BEHIND ME SATAN!” My angel must seriously have the best reflexes ever. EVER. Like, I barely even get the chance to think of doing anything stupid.
It’s a story I once loathed but now appreciate with hands-lifted-high praise because I see His grace all over it. Oh how He loves me! Whether God is banishing the guy from my building or to another country (because, yes, He has done that), He has saved me, time and time again, from so much unnecessary heartbreak. I sometimes joke that God uses Old Testament style interventions on me because He can’t trust me. But, all jokes aside, I know the real reason God has been so involved and so insistent on treating me like the wayward teenage daughter who isn’t allowed to date in high school: He loves me too much to let me get involved, get in trouble, get hurt, and get my heart broken. God isn’t trying to take away all my toys. God isn’t trying to control me. He is simply honoring a prayer I prayed to Him a long time ago. (Another story for another day because it’s too beautiful to profane with this heathen tale.) Thank You, Father, for doing Your part even when I forget (or, in many cases, refuse) to do mine. Thank You, Father, for never allowing me to “get in trouble.” Honestly, if God didn’t save the day (like, literally, every day), I might now be a bitter, overworked woman trying to stay on top of the hustle, support my poor lovechild, and fight back angry tears and curse words every time I hear Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean.” Thank You, Lord Jesus. You can bl@ck the c@ck all day, errr’day.
So, just as “the inevitable” was about to occur, I decided to toss a little thought over to God. It wasn’t necessarily a prayer request, it was more like a low priority “nice to have” on a wish list. “God, right about now is when You typically intervene and remove the object of my attraction from my life. But, if You wouldn’t mind, could You please, please, please leave this guy alone? Could You just let him stick around? You know I won’t do anything stupid, I just want a little eye candy.”
The next week, to my delightful surprise, I saw my trainer crush at the gym! God, thank You for Your great mercy towards me!! Your mercies truly are new every morning! Your goodness truly knows no bounds! And the next day, as I reminded myself not to get too excited about seeing him again (after all, I told God I would stop acting stupid if He allowed my crush to stick around), as I spied the fine guy from the corner of my little eye, I also spied a vaguely familiar female walking next to him. Who was this mystery female? Where have I seen her before? And why is she wearing the same work attire as him?…
Because, friends and fam, as of that morning, my trainer crush’s girlfriend now works at the gym.
Wow, God. Good one. Good one, Lord. That was sneaky. So dang sneaky. Slow clap for the Lord of Hosts, y’all. Who can fathom the mind of the Lord? His thoughts truly are higher than mine. God: Forever Winning. Nancy: Zero.
Strangely, I am enjoying this unexpected plot twist. If anything, I am still laughing about God’s supreme sense of humor. Also, I am reminded that God is ridiculously merciful because, truly, my soul would have been a little downcast if I didn’t have a regular dose of eye candy. Thank You, Lord, for allowing the candy story to remain in the neighborhood but ensuring that I have absolutely no reason at all to stop and hang around. Just “Pass Go” and do not collect. I get it, God. I get it.
Yes, I truly am happy that his girlfriend is around now. You can call me a lot of things – shallow, superficial, barely saved, a heathen, blah blah blah. But, one thing you can’t call me is jealous. Jealousy would imply that I like him but, y’all probably already know there’s another four-letter word that starts with the letter “L” that more accurately describes the real issue. ☹ (Also, please refer to bullet point number 4 below.) So, why exactly am I happy that his girlfriend is here?
- I am reminded of how much, how dearly, how jealously God loves me. [Refer to the section above regarding “the inevitable.”]
- I approve of my trainer crush’s choice of companion. Not that he needed me to sign-off. But, I ain’t gonna hate. The girl is pretty and she’s realllly cute – like, the super likeable, super cool, super down chick. Heck, even I legit wanna be her friend. Girl, let me at least shake your hand and say CON👏🏼GRA👏🏼TU👏🏼LA👏🏼TIONS. WELL DONE. To be honest though, if I had to choose an ideal partner for my trainer crush, other than choosing me, I probably would have chosen somebody like Gigi Hadid. Like, he is legit that status. But, I love that he chose someone who seems so girl-next-door approachable. I feel like that says a lot about him. (Also, it gives me hope that I might one day have a shot with somebody – somebody else! – as hot as him.)
- Trainer crush and his girl walked into the gym cracking-up over some joke. I had to stop myself from smiling. Let’s be honest – HOW CUTE ARE THEY?!? Now, I’ve ninja-style side-eye checked this guy out way more than I care to admit. So, other than his face and physique, I’ve noticed things like – I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile, I don’t necessarily get a friendly or warm vibe from him, and I suspect he has introvert tendencies. So, when homeboy walked into the gym, cracking up with his lady, it genuinely made me happy to realize – wow, she knows how to make him come alive. How can I be mad at that? And I noticed that he got a haircut. (Dangit, I am mad at that. Homie, can you please stop looking so good, it’s really annoying and distracting and I’d really like to respect your girlfriend so please tone down the hotness, okay?!?) I can only assume he did it to impress his girl. Okay, that’s super adorable. STOP IT.
- The fact that I am genuinely happy for my trainer crush and his girlfriend means, hallelujah, this is only a crush!! I most definitely do not like him. Whew! I know nothing about who he is underneath that Greek God body and, thank the Lord, I didn’t try to “fill in the blanks” by participating in that unhealthy, downward-spiraling game of “build your own idol.” It’s not rocket science but, after many failed crushes, I am finally able to separate fact (perfect abs) from fiction (perfect husband material). Remember those Old Spice commercials? Well, they’re fake. Lies. All lies. (Don’t judge me for being slow. But, yes, rebuke me for being stubborn.) Ladies, a word of advice to you: Don’t ever play the “build your own idol” game. Filling in the blanks is a slippery slope. The next thing you know, you’re combining your first name and his last name to see if there’s a “ring” to it (unintended pun) and imagining how beautiful your babies will be.
- The fifth reason why I’m happy my trainer crush’s girlfriend works at the gym is that her omnipresence provides a natural check to my prone-to-wandering eyes. She may be completely clueless about my crush but, that’s not the point – she deserves that respect. I wish I could say I had the integrity to respect her all the same if she weren’t here in the flesh and blood. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to; it’s just that, when I’m ninja-style side-eye staring at his trapezius, deltoids, triceps, and that head of beautiful, full, luscious hair, it’s easy to forget that she exists, that anybody else exists, that anything else matters.
Alright. Back to our regularly scheduled program, another episode of “Just Say No.” Thankfully, with the girlfriend around, I can already tell this mini-series is coming to a swift conclusion. Y’know what this reminds me of? It’s that familiar feeling of nearing the end of a most beloved ice cream cone. You’ve treated yourself to a double (maybe more like triple) scoop of your favorite flavors and, even though you have double or more the volume of ice cream, within three minutes, you are somehow already at the bottom of the cone, desperately trying to savor the last few licks, taking incrementally smaller bites in an attempt to prolong the inevitable end of your precious ice cream cone. Sigh. Good bye, hottie trainer crush. It was fun while it lasted. I can’t promise that I won’t ninja-style side-eye glance at you from time to time although I will try really, really hard not to admire you.
When temptation starts to call, when you’re standing right in front of me with the light of the sun creating an almost otherworldly aura around your hotness, acting like you don’t even realize how much of a distraction your existence is, I’ll just put my headphones on, turn aside and turn up the music, and remind myself how thankful I am that Billie Jean is not my lover.