I could dedicate an entire blog post to my spiritual journey, but for now, I’ll share a brief summary to provide context for how St. Joseph has come to deeply inspire me. Growing up in a Catholic home, learning about the Saints, Mary, Jesus, and God has always been part of my life. From the age of eight, when my grandmother began taking me to church every Sunday, to serving as an altar server from ages 9 to 18, and even attending Catholic girls’ camp every summer all the way to my first summer in college, I thought I had a strong understanding of saints and their significance. Raised by a family deeply devoted to Mary, I felt an early connection to the saints and their role in guiding us toward becoming more spiritually evolved and centered individuals.

Looking back, I have such fond memories of the foundation of faith, Christianity, and the sense of spiritual support I received. However, intertwined with the beauty of that foundation, I also carried a deep resentment toward the judgmental aspects of it. I believe that when the human ego enters the picture—when we start comparing ourselves to others and judging the way people live—it can overshadow the true essence of community. The faith meant to guide us toward growth can sometimes feel more like a pursuit of perfection for others’ approval than for God’s love. The pressure to meet others’ expectations, to behave in a certain way or fit a particular mold, left me feeling disconnected from the true meaning of my faith. As a result, I had to embark on a personal journey of leaving behind the version of faith I was handed and going on my own spiritual path—rediscovering my beliefs and reconnecting with faith in a way that felt authentic to me.

While I never truly abandoned the foundation I was given, I allowed myself to be open to new ways of thinking, which ultimately guided me back to the traditions of the Catholic faith. Two years ago, my grandmother, Mami Silvia, passed away, leaving me with a beautiful gift of faith. Her passing was a turning point, and I decided to read the Bible for myself, rather than having others tell me what to believe. The more I read and learn about the teachings of Jesus, the more I’m in awe of His messages on love, forgiveness, nonjudgment, and the call to love our neighbors as ourselves. I’ve come to appreciate the focus on purifying our own temple—the very energy that moves through us. I’ve also embraced His encouragement to heal and mature our minds, leaving behind childish ways in pursuit of spiritual growth and maturity.

A couple of years ago, I made the decision to take a break from dating and seeking male attention. I wanted to let go of my preconceived notions of what masculinity meant to me and how it showed up in my life—both through the men I was attracted to and through my own masculine energy within.

I took inventory of the men I had grown up with and reflected on how they had influenced my life and the sense of safety I felt around them. Growing up, Mary was the obvious figure to emulate—her divine feminine energy embodying hope, love, peace, and devotion. It’s understandable that Mary, the mother of the Most High, is such a revered figure—chosen for her purity of heart. As women, we’ve often been deeply judged and critiqued on how to be and how to show up in this world. Yet, I came to the realization that, aside from Jesus, I don’t recall a male figure to emulate in the same way. This isn’t to take anything away from Jesus—He is God, after all. But I began to wonder, what about a regular man who exemplifies virtues such as strength, courage, integrity, self-respect, faith, and discipline?

In my journey to heal my masculine energy and my relationship with men, St. Joseph appeared. It began with my curiosity to understand who he was within the Holy Family, but it quickly grew into a desire to learn from him and embody the virtues he lived by. The story goes that when God chose a husband for Mary, someone to support and raise Him in human form, He needed a man who was equal to Mary—equal in her purity of heart, integrity, strength, and faith. While there are different versions of how Mary’s betrothal to Joseph unfolded, I recently heard one that deeply resonated with me. According to this version, when Mary’s parents were ready to find a suitor for her, several men came forward to ask if they could court her. Unsure of whom to choose, they went into isolation to pray, seeking God’s guidance. When they emerged, each man had offered a walking stick as a sign of their interest. But one of the sticks had a white lily blooming from it. That’s why you often see depictions of St. Joseph holding a walking stick with a white lily blooming.

When Joseph realized that his bride was with child, some versions of the story depict him questioning her faithfulness. However, I personally prefer a version that was recently shared with me in the book The Consecration of St. Joseph. In this version, Joseph never doubted Mary’s loyalty to him. Instead, his pure faith and deep reverence for her left him in awe. He recognized her sacredness and value, and the thought crossed his mind: how could he, a humble man, be worthy of being with someone so special and precious? He wasn’t afraid of Mary, but rather, he feared interfering with God’s plan. How could someone as ordinary as him be in the presence of a divine being like Mary? These were extraordinary beings—chosen by God for an extraordinary purpose.

I find it deeply moving how Joseph respected Mary, honoring the sacredness of her body and her dignity in such a profound way. His desire to protect and respect her is something I wish all men could embody—seeing women and their value in the same light Joseph did with Mary. When God sensed Joseph’s fear, He sent an angel in a dream to reassure him. The angel told Joseph not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife, assuring him that all would be well. He was called to be a good husband to her—supporting, protecting, and providing for her as they raised the Most High, Jesus Christ. Full of obedience and faith, Joseph listened to the angel and embraced his role as the head of the sacred family.

Joseph took it upon himself to not only be a loving husband to Mary but also to raise Jesus as his own son. He embodied all the beautiful qualities of an earthly father—devoted to his craft, disciplined in his work, and strong enough to protect his family from ill-intentioned people. But more than that, Joseph represents healthy masculinity. Known as the “silent saint,” he was a man of few words but was deeply passionate, driven, and heart-centered. Joseph led his family through a nomadic life, protecting Mary and Jesus from those who wished them harm. He was the head of the home, while Mary was the heart, and together, they raised Jesus to become the man who would sacrifice his life for all believers. I think it’s such a beautiful story—a true testament to love, sacrifice, and devotion.

I love how Joseph never competed with Mary, never tried to take her off her pedestal. He allowed her to shine and be the Queen of Angels. It’s interesting to me that, even though I’ve been Catholic my whole life, it took me wanting to heal my masculine energy to truly discover the wonderful life of St. Joseph. He has become a true role model for me. I’ve grown so fond of him that I recently completed the 33-day consecration to St. Joseph. During this journey, I realized how much I lack discipline and confidence in my own life. I’ve read in many mental health books that a father figure often represents confidence in a woman’s life—either in how much she has it or how much she lacks it.

I’ve asked Joseph to help transform me. How can I embody the heart of Mary with the strength and discipline of Joseph? Both figures represent the balance of masculine and feminine energy, and I want to integrate these qualities to become a more whole, well-rounded person. I’ve asked Mary and Joseph to be my spiritual parents—to help refine the areas in me that need to evolve and grow, guiding me toward the life I truly crave. How could Jesus not deeply appreciate the desire to know His parents more—the people who protected and cared for Him during His most vulnerable years? Their love, strength, and guidance were essential in shaping His early life, and I believe He must have cherished their role in His journey.