I Matter…
“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, (9) not of works, lest anyone should boast.” (Ephesians 2:8–9)
From generation to generation, women have been handed the heavy, unspoken roles of being inherently nurturing, sustainable, and adaptable. We were conditioned to believe that self-sacrifice is the highest, most pure expression of love. Consequently we carry burdens far heavier than our frames were designed to bear, serving our families with tireless devotion all while secretly trying to keep our worlds from falling apart. The majority of us execute this daily warfare without a complaint, without recognition, and-far to often, without a moment of rest.
I have been doing a lot lately-giving a lot, and holding things together that were never mine to shoulder in the first place. I relegated myself to the very bottom of my own priority list. I have been the unshakable, strong pillar in rooms where not a single person bothered to ask if I’m okay. I have played the calm mediator in exhausting conversations that were silently draining my virtue. I managed to be fully present for everyone else, but somewhere in the transaction of giving away my time and effort, I forgot to come back to myself. I neglected the woman who lives behind the heavy roles I have learned to play so well. I’m fully aware that it is physically and spiritually impossible to pour from an half-empty vessel; I cannot pour abundant life into others while quietly suffocating my own. I wasn’t put on this earth to serve as a mere convenience for anyone. I definitely wasn’t created to shrink myself to fit into the expectations of people who never took the time to understand the staggering depth of the weight I carry. I was uniquely hand-crafted by God and I refuse to dim my light so that others can feel comfortable in my presence. Yet, somewhere along the timeline of my life, I fell into that trap, I made myself small. I apologized for basic, fundamental needs that were never unreasonable to begin with. As painful as this realization is, it wasn’t the worst of it. I had grown so professional at prioritizing everyone else’s needs above my own, that I became blind to my own self-sabatoging. I stopped noticing when I was saying ‘yes’ to obligations when my spirit was yelling ‘no’. I stopped noticing that I was bottling up my feelings just to maintain a false sense of peace. I stopped noticing that I was placing myself at the bottom of the totem pole, hell I didn’t even afford myself a space in the middle! These tiny, unnoticeable changes were becoming so habituated that my automatic default response had become: “Take care of everyone else first Brenda, and if there are any scraps leftover, then you can finally take care of yourself.”
I must find some quiet time and space where I’m finally able to hear the Holy Spirit and hear the sound of my own voice again. I need clarity. I am ready to reconnect with the buried version of myself that has been quietly, patiently waiting for me to disconnect from the external noise. I want to look into the mirror and embrace the woman who is finally able to breathe, to be loved and to be validated….not by the applause of the crowd, but by me. While I’m in this quiet space, I am going to hold myself accountable to some real, unfiltered questions: When was the last time I did something specifically for myself-not because someone else demanded it, and not because it was expected of me, but strictly because it restored something within me?” When was the last time I chose my own well-being completely, fully, unapologetically, without a threao of false guilt trailing behind my heels like a heavy chain of scarlet letters?” Honestly, I have never experienced a version of my true self that wasn’t defined by the labels placed on me, what I could produce for them or what they expected of me. I need to stand alone in this quiet space. I have to create enough supernatural stillness to remember who I am at my core. I must remember that I matter. This quiet place isn’t an act of cowardice to hide, or permanently escape the reality of my life; it is the construction of a neccessary boundary between my soul and the demands of others, so that my inner being can finally find the oxygen to speak.
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I was conditioned from a very young age to believe that real strength requires never crying, never breaking down, and never admitting that you are quietly hurting or drowning in depression. Those early life lessons built a towering wall around my soul, making it difficult for, me to admit to others that something deep inside me was broken and had never fully healed. Even in today’s culture, we are fed the lie that strength means never asking for help-as if reaching out is a shameful confession of failure, or needing rest is a sign of weakness. The reality was that I believed those false narratives and fell victim to their trap. Sure, I became a ‘strong woman’. I was impressive on the outside, while slowly, quietly unraveling on the inside. Yes, this strong woman possessed the power to hold an entire room together, but she shattered the moment she was alone. This strong woman built a life that looked full and happy on social media, yet felt hollow in the private moments she would never posts about.
The most irony of this supposed strength is that the world actually applauds it. People constantly look at you and say things like, you’re so resilient. You’re the glue keeping this family together. You’re the life of the party, our rock.’ And do you know what happens next? They begin to lean their entire weight on your shoulders even more heavily, because in their eyes, you never break. Their genuine admiration as sweet as it is, transforms into a mental steel trap. You find yourself trapped with no escape- feeling a crushing obligation to maintain an image of perfection that was never entirely accurate. But the truth is: I do break. And if I’m going to break from anything in this season, I am choosing to break away from this fraudulent, perception of myself that I’ve allowed others to thrust upon me.
I am ready to embody the true strength of a woman. This shift will only arrive from intimately identifying who I am at the core of my being. I must commit to the daunting, messy task of journeyng back to the true authentic self I was before other people and life’s circumstances decided who I was supposed to be. And honestly, I have no idea who that woman even is. But armed with this newfound strength, I will finally be able to say without a shred of hesitation, fear, or apology: ‘I need rest today,’ or ‘I need help,’ or I’m not okay.” I must permenantley remember that I matter.
I have become completely exhausted and restless-not because I have been doing too much, but I have been carrying heavy burdens that God never authorized me to shoulder. This was a specific breed of fatigue and restlessness that a good night's sleep couldn’t fix. It wasn’t physical, even though my bones felt the strain, and it wasn’t just emotional, though my heart reeled under the heaviness of it. My soul was weary from years of faithfully showing up in environments where I was never truly seen, valued or acknowledged. In this quiet space, I am choosing to sit down and hold a completely, honest conversation with myself. I have to admit that certain individuals have hurt me, I have to admit that certain individuals drain me. I have to admit that I gave more than I ever had to offer. And although I'm profoundly thankful for the cusion of God's grace, I must admit that I have been running on empty fumes for far longer that I care to admit.
My honesty is not a sign weakness, it’s the beginning of my inner transformation. I am committing to this silent restoration of my life, unbothered by whether the world notices or applauds. I’m recommitting to myself and I refuse to allow anyone to pull me away. I will establish boundaries even if it offends the people around me, because I value my peace-and I matter. Moving forward I am focusing on new goals, figuring out exactly what I desire rather than accommodating what others want for me. I will pursue what brings me true kingdom joy, even if that alignment makes others uncomfortable. I must intentionally step out from behind the heavy roles and unauthorized responsibilities that were placed upon my shoulder without my consent. I am returning to God’s original version of me, God did not create me to live a life of depletion. He did not hand-craft me with all this unique awesomeness just so the world could rob me of my royal DNA and toss me aside like discarded scrap. I was created to be deeply rooted in my God-given identity. I was created to be fiercely secure in my worth. My ultimate goal is to be so rooted in God and connected to the woman He says I am, that I finally move through this life out of a place of supernatural overflow rather than emptiness.
When I finally step out of my quiet space, I will inevitably walk back into the exact same life, the same daily responsibilities, the same relationships and the same challenges-but I will not walk back out the same way I arrived. I refuse to return dejected and depleted. Instead, I will re-enter my world as a woman who has executed a quiet, yet firm decision, entirely independent of anyone’s approval, that she matters. My restoration is no longer optional. My peace is not a superficial reward I am allowed to earn after everyone else is satisfied; it is a a foundation I will aggressively maintain so that everything I touch will flourish. I must constantly remember that I am chosen by God, I am validated through Him, He is well-pleased with me. I am saved by God’s grace, completely detached from my own performances or works (Ephesians 2:8–9). I will no longer operate from a place of depletion, nor will I bankrupt my own soul trying to fill someone else’s vessel while mine sits half-empty. If I’m going to remain a clean vessel for God’s use, I must ruthlessly protect my inner being-otherwise, I will be of no use to God or anyone else. Right now in the stillness, begins the holy work of filling my vessel to its maximum capacity. Because I matter-and so do you!
