I was once dating a stingy man who believed that he should never spend money on any woman who was not yet his wife.

At first, I tried to understand where he was coming from. Maybe he had been used before. Maybe he had fallen into the hands of ladies who only saw him as an ATM. So I didn’t judge him. Instead, I told myself that with time, I would help him see relationships differently.

You see, I have always been a cheerful giver.

I believe that when you truly love someone, you naturally look for ways to make their life easier. You ask yourself, “How can I help? What can I do to put a smile on this person’s face? How can I contribute positively to their life?”

So I kept telling myself that he would eventually change.

Then his birthday came.

Now, I’m a lover of art, so I took my time and drew a beautiful portrait of him. I also bought him a Rolex wristwatch and a pair of sneakers.

I wasn’t trying to buy his love.

I simply wanted him to experience what intentional love looks like.

At the time, I was working and earning my own money, so I wasn’t expecting him to perform miracles. I didn’t need luxury. I didn’t need extravagance. I simply wanted intentionality.

A few months later, it was my own birthday.

I woke up to a very long message.

“Happy birthday to my one and only queen. The woman my heart beats for…”

It was beautiful.

I read it.

I smiled.

I thanked him.

And I continued with my day.

Deep down, I thought maybe he had a surprise planned. Maybe he would come around later. Maybe he would take me out for lunch. Maybe we would spend some quality time together.

But nothing happened.

Nothing.

No visit.

No outing.

No thoughtful gesture.

Nothing.

I simply smiled and kept moving.

Normally, because of the kind of work I did, I often cooked in bulk. Whenever I did my batch cooking, I would package some meals and send them over to him through a dispatch rider so he could have food in his fridge.

Not because he asked.

Not because he couldn’t afford food.

Just because I cared.

But after that birthday experience, something clicked in my head.

I realized I was waiting for a version of him that did not exist.

I was holding onto an imaginary picture of who I hoped he would become instead of accepting who he already was.

And the truth is, people only change when they genuinely want to.

A few weeks later, I did another batch cooking and sent him some meals as usual.

He called me immediately.

“My dear, to marry an Igbo woman would be one of the greatest blessings of my life,” he said jokingly.

“Look at how you’re taking care of me. Hope you won’t change after marriage o.”

I smiled.

But this time, I said nothing.

Then one day, my younger sister came to Abuja.

She was just seventeen years old and had come to write a nursing entrance examination.

I told my boyfriend ahead of time that she would be visiting.

He sounded excited.

He said he was looking forward to meeting her.

So when she finally arrived, I made sure she was comfortable.

A few days later, he came to visit.

The moment he saw my sister, he was happy.

They talked.

They laughed.

Everything seemed fine.

But as I watched him, something crossed my mind.

This was the first time he was meeting his supposed future sister-in-law.

A teenage girl who had traveled all the way to Abuja for an exam.

Even if it was a packet of biscuits.

Even if it was a small chocolate.

Even if it was cookies.

Just something.

Anything.

But he came empty-handed.

Instead, he arrived complaining about being hungry and tired.

I served him food.

He ate.

He relaxed.

Then he left.

My sister eventually wrote her exam and returned home.

Not once throughout her stay did he buy her anything.

Not even the smallest gesture.

Till today, my sister still laughs whenever she remembers him.

She gave him a nickname.

“Uncle Stingy Coco.”

And honestly, every time I remember it, I laugh too.

But that was the moment reality finally settled in.

I knew that if I eventually married this man, I would be entering a one-chance relationship.

I sat down and reflected.

Over a year of dating…

Not a necklace.

Not a flower.

Not a loaf of bread.

Not even the smallest thoughtful gift.

Nothing.

One day, I called him.

I told him respectfully that I didn’t think the relationship would work anymore.

He was shocked.

“Why?” he asked.

“This is the sweetest relationship I’ve ever had. No woman has ever treated me the way you do. You brought warmth into my life.”

I listened quietly.

Then I told him the truth.

I wasn’t interested in continuing.

He asked if it was because he had never bought me anything.

Then he said something I will never forget.

He told me that the woman he eventually married would inherit everything he owned.

I laughed.

Because the issue was never his money.

The funny thing is that this man wasn’t broke.

Far from it.

He was doing very well financially.

This was simply who he was.

I told him to save all his properties and inheritance for the woman he intended to marry because I wasn’t interested anymore.

Then he brought up another reason.

He said his church taught that when you’re dating a woman, you shouldn’t buy her anything not even a handkerchief until after marriage.

I looked at him and asked a simple question.

“If that’s your belief, why did you collect everything I gave you?”

The portrait.

The wristwatch.

The sneakers.

The meals.

The countless acts of kindness.

Why didn’t you reject them?

Why didn’t you say, “No, I don’t accept gifts from a woman because of my doctrine?”

That’s when I realized the issue wasn’t doctrine.

He simply loved receiving.

He just didn’t enjoy giving.

He begged.

He cried.

He knelt down.

He promised he would change.

But by then, I had already made up my mind.

Because if someone truly wants to change, you don’t usually have to threaten to leave before they start trying.

So we ended the relationship.

And surprisingly, moving on wasn’t that difficult.

Yes, it hurt.

But not deeply.

After all, I had spent most of the relationship pouring into his life.

Giving ideas.

Offering support.

Adding value.

So when it ended, I simply picked myself up and continued with my life.

Three months later, I met another man.

Unlike my ex, he wasn’t particularly wealthy.

But one thing stood out immediately.

He was intentional.

Whenever he came to see me, he never came empty-handed.

Sometimes it was bananas.

Sometimes apples.

Sometimes fruits.

Nothing expensive.

Nothing extravagant.

Just thoughtful.

Sometimes he would simply say,

“Get dressed. Let’s go out.”

And in those little moments, I saw care.

I saw effort.

I saw consideration.

I saw intentionality.

We didn’t even date for very long.

Everything felt natural.

Peaceful.

Effortless.

Like God had sent me a blessing disguised as an ordinary man.

Eventually, we got married.

And by God’s grace, our marriage has been beautiful, to think that it was after our wedding that my husband’s was promoted at his place of work made everything more beautiful.

Now here’s the interesting part.

My ex, Harrison, attended my wedding.

Throughout the ceremony, he sat quietly.

He looked unusually sober.

When he eventually came to greet my husband and me, he looked at me and said:

“I made a mistake.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I should have treated you better.”

But by then, it was too late.

Some opportunities only come once.

And once they’re gone, no amount of regret can bring them back.

Today, whenever I remember that chapter of my life, I don’t feel anger.

I feel gratitude.

Because it taught me something important:

Never build a relationship on potential.

Build it on reality.

Don’t fall in love with who you hope someone will become.

Pay attention to who they already are.

And if someone genuinely values you, you won’t have to beg them to be intentional.

Their actions will speak long before their words do.

Cherish the people God brings into your life.

Don’t allow outdated mindsets, selfish habits, or unnecessary pride to rob you of something beautiful.

Relationships and marriages are not competitions.

They are partnerships.

They are two people constantly asking:

“How can I make your life better?”

“How can I support you?”

“How can I add value to your journey?”

Because at the end of the day, love is not measured by how much you receive.

Love is revealed by how willing you are to give.

Moral 1: Never stay with someone because of who you hope they will become. Pay attention to who they consistently show you they are.

Moral 2: A successful relationship is not built on wealth alone. It is built on intentionality, thoughtfulness, sacrifice, and two people willingly complementing each other’s lives.