To the Girl Who Wonders Why She’s Still Standing
I’ve been asking myself this a lot lately: Why am I the way I am? Why did I survive when so many parts of my life should’ve broken me down?
I’ve asked other people. I’ve asked my mom-in-law. I’ve asked God. It feels like a question that lives in the back of my mind — even when I’m not saying it out loud.
The truth is, I wasn’t born into safety or peace. From the day I came into this world, it’s been complicated. My life started with rejection, confusion, and almost being given away. I didn’t grow up in a warm place or with people who sometimes looked at me like I was a blessing. And for a long time, I thought that meant I just wasn’t lovable.
But now I’m starting to understand something else.
I wasn’t weak. I wasn’t a mistake. I had something in me that kept reaching for something better, even when I didn’t know what I was reaching for. While others shut down or gave up, even when I did the same, yet — I kept feeling. I kept searching. I stayed sensitive, even when it made me hurt more. And I think that’s part of why I’m still standing.
God didn’t let go of me. Even when I couldn’t see Him clearly, something about me kept moving toward Him — like my soul knew who it belonged to.
I was made this way on purpose. I believe God gave me a spirit that could survive, not by getting hard but by staying open. And that might be why I’ve come out stronger in some ways than my siblings—not better—just built for something different.
So to anyone else who’s asking this same question… Maybe you’re standing because your story’s not done yet. Perhaps you were meant to carry something only you could carry — and live to tell the truth about it.
That’s what I’m doing here.
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Dear Little Me,
You didn’t deserve the way life started.
You didn’t deserve to be held with hesitation.
To be almost erased because someone else couldn’t handle the truth of who you were.
You didn’t deserve the lies written next to your name, or the silence that followed you into every room.
But I see you now. And I need you to know — I believe you.
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A Letter to the Girl I Used to Be,
I believe the way you felt, even when no one else did. I believe you carried the ache when you tried to be “good enough” for people who couldn’t love you correctly. I believe the way your little heart scanned every room, trying to figure out if you were wanted, or just tolerated. I know you tried so hard to stay small, not to cause trouble, to be helpful, quiet, useful — anything but a burden. But you were never a burden. Not once. You were just a child who needed to be held, and I’m so sorry that no one showed up the way they should’ve. But you made it. You kept going. You stayed kind. You kept your softness even when life gave you every reason to go numb.
You never stopped looking for something more. And now I know why — you were made to find God. Not in a building. Not through fear. But in the quiet, in the questions, in the survival. And you did. I’m here now because of you. I carry your pain, but I also carry your strength. I carry your hope. I carry the version of you who still wanted love, who still believed in softness, who still listened for God even in the dark. You didn’t fail. You endured. And now… you’re free to become more than anyone expected. I’m not ashamed of you. I love you. You were never too much. You were always worth loving.
Your girl, Me