23

I finally looked confident. Then life revealed where my confidence was actually built.

The hair. The makeup. The nails. The dress. I had spent years believing that if I changed enough about my appearance, people would finally notice me. So I tried it. And they did. Even in ways I never wanted.

I wasn’t covering my body because I thought it was ugly. I was covering myself because I was afraid someone would agree with what I already believed about me.

I told myself I didn’t care what people thought. The truth was, I cared so much that it felt safer to hide than risk not measuring up. Every compliment was met with an immediate, “Stop,” followed by a quick “thank you.” I smiled politely, but inside I argued with every kind word because I simply couldn’t believe what others seemed to see.

Twenty-three, you spent so much time trying to become someone worth seeing that you almost missed the truth: God had never looked away. Before the makeup. Before the dress. Before the compliments. Before the attention. You were already fearfully and wonderfully made. Worth more than many sparrows. Deeply loved by the Father who created you on purpose.