The Parts I Don’t Lead With

When we’re dating or even just putting ourselves out there, we all know how to sell the highlight reel.

I’m good at it too.

I can tell you I’m an entrepreneur. Financially stable. I own my stuff. I take care of my kids. I love the Lord. I have vision, purpose, direction. I know where I’m going in life, and I’m not drifting. I’m intentional. I’m disciplined. I’m focused.

All of that is true.

But it’s also incomplete.

Because what we often do what I’ve done is lead with our pros and quietly hide our flaws, hoping nobody notices them until later. Or worse, hoping they’ll just magically disappear once someone falls for the good parts.

But the truth is: people don’t fall in love with potential forever. Eventually, they meet reality.

So here’s mine.

One of my flaws is that I’m selfish not in a stingy or greedy way, but in a my way or the highway kind of way. I like things structured. I like things planned. I like knowing where I’m going and how I’m getting there. And once I’ve locked in on a vision especially when it comes to my purpose, my church, my calling I guard it fiercely. Almost aggressively.

I’m selfish with my dreams.

Selfish with my time.

Selfish with the vision God gave me.

That can be hard to share space with.

Another flaw? I’m very friendly. Very personable. I talk to anybody. Anywhere. Any time. That’s part of my calling and part of my wiring, I deal with people all day long. I build relationships. I connect dots. I make rooms lighter when I walk in.

But I know how that can look.

Friendly can be misunderstood. Personable can feel unsafe to someone who’s been hurt. And while my intentions may be clean, perception doesn’t always wait for explanations. That’s something I have to own.

I also work a lot.

Sun up to sun down type of work.

I’m goal-driven to the core. I wake up thinking about impact, legacy, execution. I don’t really know how to “half-care” about things. When I’m locked in, I’m locked in. And that means my days are full, my mind is always moving, and my schedule is rarely light.

To some, that’s admirable.

To others, it’s exhausting.

To a partner, it can feel like competition.

Another flaw one I’ve wrestled with more honestly over time is that I’m set in stone about the type of woman I desire. I know what I want. I know what I don’t want. And because of past relationships and marriage, one or two red flags can shut things down fast for me.

Sometimes too fast.

When I see familiar traits especially ones that once cost me peace I don’t lean in. I lean back. I get defensive. Guarded. Distant. It’s not always fair, but it’s honest. Trauma has a way of sharpening your filters, even when healing is present.

And then there’s this: I don’t believe in fairy tales.

I believe in love. I believe in partnership. I believe in covenant. But when something feels too perfect, too smooth, too good to be true I start looking for the catch. I start asking questions. I start trying to find the fracture in the glass.

Not because I want things to fail but because I’ve learned that ignoring reality costs more than facing it.

These aren’t excuses.

They’re flaws.

And the reason I’m sharing them isn’t to push anyone away it’s to stop pretending that attraction should only be built on strengths. Because if someone only meets your good side, they haven’t really met you.

Real connection doesn’t happen when someone falls for your résumé. It happens when they understand your rough edges and still choose to sit at the table.

We’d all do better dating, building friendships, forming partnerships if we were brave enough to say, “Here’s what you need to know about me before you get attached.”

Not as a disclaimer.

Not as a warning.

But as an invitation to truth.

So if you’re reading this, now you know a little more about Tim. Not just the vision. Not just the success. But the parts I’m still submitting to God, still refining, still learning how to carry well.

And maybe—just maybe if we all started leading with a little more honesty, we’d stop being surprised when people finally see who we really are.

Because flaws don’t disqualify us.

They humanize us