Growing up, I never felt worthy of love or care. The environment I was raised in made me feel invisible, like my emotions didn’t matter. I was always made to feel like I was in the way—an afterthought, a burden, a mistake. That feeling stayed with me, echoed in the background of my life like a haunting chorus.
So when people complimented me—called me beautiful, told me I had a kind soul, that I was an inspiration—I couldn't believe them. Those words felt foreign, like they were meant for someone else. I would smile, but deep inside, I was questioning their motives. I felt like I owed them something in return, because how could someone offer kindness without expecting something back?
The truth is, I didn’t know how to receive love because I had never truly experienced it without conditions.
It wasn’t until recently that I started to recognize these reactions for what they are—trauma responses. And when that realization hit me, it forced me to ask: Do I really believe I’m unworthy of love? That I don’t deserve care, compassion, peace?
I still find myself giving everything to others, expecting nothing, receiving even less. And it hurts. It drains me. But I now understand that I can’t keep pouring from an empty cup. That truth was written for people like me.
Every day, my daughter reminds me that I am deserving. She sees me. She loves me with a pure heart. She fills the empty spaces in me with her light, her laughter, her unconditional love. She is my reason. My angel. My mirror.
Through her, I’ve begun the journey of learning how to love myself—to give myself the same care I so freely offer others. I’m starting to believe that I am not the sum of what others have said about me. I am who God says I am—redeemed, chosen, worthy.
And every day, with grace and healing, I’m finding my way back to me.