This Girl's Worth

We’ve all been there. We felt like we’ve lost ourselves. We know a situation is beneath us, it’s changed our DNA, and it feels like for the worst.

We used to feel comfortable in ourselves. We used to have the right words to say. We used to be able to handle the stress, and to control our emotions. We used to be able to logic our way through it. Now, now we’re burnt out, tired, frustrated, reactive, a little too talkative, and at a loss. We may not feel like we even know who we are.

It was like that for me for the past three years, I was simultaneously the best and worst version of myself. I was someone in love. I trusted, I was able to let go and be in the moment, I had a sense of protection and comfort. I was able to love hard, be there outside of myself, create a world of support, love, laughter, and growth for someone else. Giving that much of myself felt like magic. To be able to love that strongly, showed me how much more was inside of me. I also was weighed down and angry from a (narcissistic, and sometimes codependent relationship) with someone who ignored the very core of my existence, and through his treatment of me, made me believe I was weak, irrational, needy, a quitter, and, powerless. He’d tell me the opposite, but his treatment of me and snarky comments when I would show vulnerability would scream otherwise. So for a while, I believed it. I began to see myself as weak. I lost my voice. I felt like there was something wrong with me. Something wrong with the way I looked at life and the love I needed.

I felt that way until the end of that three and a half year period. I was emotionally triggered, moments ringing in my ear when he told me, Why do you just let stuff happen to you? There you go, you always quit, after a tough argument. You just give up when something gets hard, I’m not like that. I just keep moving forward, I’m not just going to let this win.

So I thought to myself, I wish I was as strong as him. I failed to recognize that a girl who fought for herself her entire life, despite my childhood traumas, I forgot that my life spoke the opposite of those words. God allowed me to be the first in my immediate family to attend a university, graduate with honors, and without debt, to overcome attacks of depression, anxiety, loneliness, and get up and do what I have to do; to save up and move to a town without financial support or the physical support of my family. The fact that I got up everyday and spent 3 hours on a train and a bus traveling to work, rain or shine, sick or not, and I believed the lie that I was a quitter or even weak, and that I give up? I refused to. The evidence of what God does in my life was far too long for me to believe in his lie so he could exalt himself.

I refused to believe that I let things happen to me. People’s decisions to violate me, lie to me, hurt me, abuse me, or attempt to break me down was never my fault. Did I have something to learn? Yes! Was I a little too trusting of others at times? Absolutely. Did I deserve what happened because of my innocence? Never. I don’t let things happen to me, life happens, and I, like everyone at times have been a victim of life, but that’s doesn’t mean I just let things happen. I get up everyday fighting for myself.

I’m not perfect, I will never be perfect, but everyday of my life, I am submitting to God and recognizing things about myself that I need to grow in. I don’t always like the way I handle things, I don’t always like how strong I come off. I don’t always agree with how I said something. Sometimes, I do stay in my feelings too long, and other times, I brush off my feelings when I’m right. I can stand up for myself for some things I can let go of, and other times, I let things slide I know will bite me in the butt later, but not a single person can tell me and convince me I’m a weaker version. That rings untrue to what my life’s work and actions reveal.

All this time, I wondered, what was so special about me? What makes me different? I wished I was braver, more confident, smarter, prettier, kinder, and stronger, and the people who really knew me and loved me told me, “Domonique, are you crazy? That’s always been you. You’ve always stood up for yourself, you’ve always fought for yourself. You’ve always been the strength. You’ve always been intuitive. You’ve always been confident and you walk into a room and you know what to do.”

It made me smile, because I never really felt that way. I was just being me.

So the relationship I was in, the one I thought that defined me, even if I fought against those lies the relationship told me, because I didn’t fully believe in myself, I was susceptible to his lies, his insecurities, his projections, I fell prey to his bullying, and him trying to knock me down, so he could “put me on” (his words not mine). Now I realize, I’ve been on. I been had a voice. I am strong. I am confident. I am not a quitter, that’s insulting to me considering what I’ve been through and what God brought me out of. To call me a quitter is to insult everything that God has done to place me here on this Earth. It is to insult God’s providence and provision for my life’s past, present, and future.

Now that I know that, now that I am me. Now that I recognize why I was chosen by every person who sought after me, because of everything God put in me, I recognize the voice that was there all along.

The voice that says, I know who I am, the voice that says, I know I’m not perfect, the voice that says I’m worth more than “I tried, but” . The voice that says how she feels. The voice that doesn’t apologize for being unsatisfied. The voice that says “I know what to do” when I walk into a room with confidence, not because I feel pressure to be what someone wants me to be. The voice that says, I love and I love hard, and I require the same from my future husband. The voice that says, I can carry all of the weight, but I don’t want to. The voice in me that says, I don’t need to compare myself to or be “different” than other women. Other women are beautiful, sexy, confident, strong, and smart, and that doesn’t take away any ounce of that for me.

I’ve never been more empowered than in this moment. All the things I felt were breaking me down were just transforming my fighting style. They can’t tell me nothing, because the lies of my pain and experiences exposed who I really am. And, if you’re not legitimate, if you’re not honest, you won’t like her.