Just My Imagination

One of the apartments we looked at that day

It started as a normal day. I was helping a friend look for an apartment. She wasn’t confident in her Korean, so I tagged along to be her translator. I had no other purpose that day but to make sure she didn’t accidentally agree to live in a windowless closet.

We met with two male realtors, and while she handled her side of things, I checked stuff out, asked questions, and made some small talk. What surprised me was how fun it became. Playful, flirty, but still respectful. Just silly stuff—goofy hand gestures, banter, shared interests. Nothing serious.

One of them mentioned his age, and I laughed because he was the same age as my younger sister. Without missing a beat, he looked at me and said, “I like noonas.”

If you know, you know.

It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t wrong. But something in me lit up.

I left that apartment smiling. Not because I wanted to marry him or even see him again. But because I forgot how much I enjoy being around men. It was a reminder of something I hadn’t felt in a while—a bit of playful attention, lighthearted fun, the kind of conversation that makes you feel seen.

God made us for connection. For relationship. Even little moments like that are a reminder that we were never designed to go through life in isolation.

And yet.

Later that night, things changed. Not in reality, but in my mind. I caught myself replaying the moments, then stretching them. Imagining what could have happened. Wondering if he thought I was pretty. If I had been more flirty, would he have asked for my number.

The little flash of connection turned into a whole fake relationship in my head.

And that’s where I always fall. Not with my hands, but in my head.

My sin rarely starts with action. It always begins in fantasy. It always looks innocent at first. It always feels harmless. But it never stays that way.

That’s the part I’m tired of.

Moving truck parked by an apartment on the map

I wish I could just enjoy a moment without twisting it into something it was never meant to be. I wish I could take the compliment and not build a story around it. But the longer I sit in that fantasy, the more it becomes about lust. Not just sexual, but emotional. Craving pursuit. Craving affection. Craving someone to make me feel wanted.

That’s when the enemy gets in. He doesn’t tempt me with scandal. He tempts me with imagination.

It’s subtle. Just a thought here. A feeling there. Suddenly the idea of being pursued becomes the idol. Male attention becomes a hit of dopamine. And a passing moment starts to feel like a promise.

But it wasn’t.

And it never was.

I’ve had to come face-to-face with how easily I replace God’s best with a shadow version. I long for a husband, and that’s a good thing. But sometimes I don’t long for him—I long for the idea of him. For the attention. For the affirmation. For someone to make me feel wanted.

That’s where the thoughts get dangerous. That’s where they become something I need to take captive. Scripture tells us to do exactly that in 2 Corinthians 10:5. To demolish arguments and take every thought captive to make it obedient to Christ.

It doesn’t say ignore the thoughts. It says take them. Grab hold. Surrender them.

The real battle isn’t with a man. It’s with the fantasy of one.

And honestly, I’m just tired. I’m tired of the cycle. I’m tired of being triggered by eye contact and a friendly tone. I’m tired of creating fake scenarios in my head and waking up disappointed that they aren’t real.

I want freedom.

I don’t want to keep spinning in this loop of longing, slipping, repenting, and starting again. I want a clean mind. A holy mind. I want to be able to enjoy innocent male attention without being dragged into lustful thoughts five hours later.

Sometimes I think I’m waiting for a husband, but really, I’m waiting for the day God silences the storm in my own mind.

Maybe you’ve been there too. Maybe your thoughts aren’t about a guy from a real estate office, but you know exactly what I’m talking about. The storylines that take over when you feel lonely. The movie scenes in your head. The way you start mentally building a future with someone after one conversation.

You’re not alone. You’re not crazy. And you’re definitely not hopeless.

You are not your thoughts.

A beautiful lotus blooming that I saw on a day when I needed a reset in Jeonju, South Korea

This isn’t who you are. This is what you’re being freed from.

There’s no shame in admitting this struggle. That’s how healing begins. The more we bring it into the light, the less power it holds over us. And the more we let God speak into those secret places, the more space He has to actually change them.

You don’t need to hide. You don’t need to carry it by yourself.

Just bring it to Him. Again, if you need to. And again after that.

He’s not tired of you. He’s not surprised. He’s not disappointed. He’s working. Even now.

And one day—whether it’s before or after you meet your husband—you’ll walk in full freedom. And you’ll remember days like this not with shame, but with gratitude.

Because they’ll be proof of how far He’s brought you.

Have you ever found yourself building stories in your head that started out innocent but turned into a struggle? How do you bring those thoughts to God? I’d love to hear your experience in the comments.