Self esteem is a funny thing. I’ve always had what I felt was an excess. I’ve always felt what I thought was more than I deserved. A confidence in myself that was both vibrant & true. Not in a cocky way, not that I would ever consider myself better than anyone else.
If anything I’ve always found a lot of confidence in putting others first. Tried to combat any chance of my confidence going to my head by making myself second. By serving those around me and always trying to lift up the people I come in contact with. Both quietly and consistently. I’ve found worth in that, I suppose. It’s always been part of my identity to give and share and I have always pulled a decent amount of confidence from there. Just from being me. I’ve never really wanted to be anything else, just the best version of myself. The best man I could be. I believe God called me to be this way and be this way. I want to be, all for Him.
We find worth in many ways though. And being loved and appreciated can do the trick too. It can raise you up higher than mountains and lift you out of the deepest depths. Feeling love shown speaks to my heart more than any other language. It builds me up like not much else can. And while I take confidence in being a Son of God, I find so much worth in being loved. It’s my comfort above comfort to not need to be told I am loved but to feel before it ever needs to be said.
But the feeling I’m worth much has taken a hit. Belief that I’m enough has been wounded. I’ve found my confidence shattered. I’ve found my self esteem struggling. It’s broken me in a way. Well. not really in a way. It’s just, broken me. It’s drained me not just mentally, but physically, struggling to feel enough in every way and struggling to even know how to pick myself up from here.
It’s a mountain I have to climb in a mountain range of many others. It’s a struggle I’ve never had to face before, because really it just never meant this much. It’s more daunting than most. In considering my options though, I don’t really have a choice. So I’ll press on. I’ll struggle, and I’ll hurt. But I’ll press on. Like I always do.
It hurts for sure. There’s no denying that, it’s just being honest. But I have to trust that my identity is more. My identity is in Him. And while I’ll have weak moments recovering & healing from what feels like a crushing blow, I know that more important than anything is the man I am in Christ. When I have nothing else I will always have that.
Next week I’ll be on my own. A full week of praying, thinking, and healing. Holding onto hope. So I’ll press on. Looking to my Lord more than ever and standing on who I am in Him. Looking. Searching. and finding, confidence with God.