When I See Myself Through His Eyes…
I always get less than I deserve.
I am a thing, not a person.
I am a side character.
I exist for others, not myself.
My value is in my appearance, yet somehow I am overworked.
I am depleted.
When I See Myself Through My Eyes…
I am worthy of love and care.
I believe I have value to the world; not through my exhaustion, but through my passions, strengths, and uniqueness.
I notice my inner beauty before my outer beauty; yet I don’t deny either. In fact, I am proud of both.
I don’t see acknowledgment of my appearance as vain. And I don’t see downplaying my intelligence as humility.
I see my own merit; both that which is earned and God-given. And I am worthy of both.
The Meaning of Motherhood
When I was an over-giver, he said I would make an excellent mother. But I disagreed.
It felt too wrong to be right.
I don’t think a self-sacrificing caregiver makes a good role model for daughters, or cultivates a good concept of women for sons.
I don’t want to be solely defined by the relationships closest to me, especially if they do not allow me to be my full self.
Becoming a Better Person
He praised me for making him a better person, but I am a worse person for knowing him- and I never stopped to question that.
I just gave more to the relationship because I thought that would solve the problems. But it never did. In fact, they grew.
He reached for my cup when his was still full. He framed this as a compliment- like he liked what I had. But it never felt like one.
His eyes saw my faults, but never his own.
Perhaps my body can mend what his broke, my eyes can heal what his destroyed, and my voice can raise that which his muted.
He was never the decider of my value. That was never his right. His voice was simply the loudest.
Messy Bun Book Lover