Will You Ever Feel Like You're Enough?
compliments can't save you.
I remember teenage roads I knew so well, memory maps to worthlessness— paths I could trace like the palm of my hand. They used to make me fall apart… triggering me in just a second. But now, they can’t hold their grip on my thoughts, swallowed in smoky white fog, reduced to powerless shadows. As hopelessness melted into the dawn, I met Hope—who became my first friend. She asked if she could tell me facts, not just feelings, and whispered something wild: “We’re no strangers. I was always nearby.” Tears hung on my curly black lashes, blinding my sight. I never noticed her chasing me in the crowds, weaving every wounded corner with care. It’s where lostness met found— a different love story: not by a soulmate checklist, not the lie novels and movies tried to sell me, but a wind that nudged me, reminding me I was already worthy. Not by second-glance compliments. Not by fortresses rooted in thirst. No hero. No knight. No prince was ever needed to rescue my happiness. The shame that once covered my face, the bottomless emptiness I tried to fill with grades and accolades, silenced by an echoing symphony within— led by the Maestro now: self-worth. This time, without fear, I walked through old ruins where I once thought I walked alone. I slid my finger over every broken brick, realizing: pure honey-like sweetness. As cherry blossoms danced into spring air, reliving memories brought me happy tears. I used to push through hallways, trying to hide so they wouldn’t see me crumble. But she said her hand—had always held mine. Now, I’m reborn—just different. Fourteen years gives me a whole new perspective. Maybe that was the reason: learning that words and actions do matter, and holding my tongue with more power. I fought with my neural pathways best I knew how. Fake smiles never tricked my mind. But I couldn’t give up. family was counting on me to stay alive. It took so long, I thought joy ghosted me and would never come back. But one day, she moved into my house with her luggage— becoming my second roommate. I get overlooked. Old scars still tingle. Pressure keeps hitting from every direction. Tested? I call them opportunities to be molded— because I’m getting refined, day by day. I’ve stopped hiding from my shadow. Joy—light as a feather—anchored in resilience. Confidence flowing from the inside out, not the other way around. Beauty, resilient, blooming Sakura in spring or winter— standing in crowds I once thought would break me just to feel: pretty, normal, good enough. but now... those old weights fade against the wind. A spirit too wild, still smiling— darkness can’t erase my becoming.
Heart Call:
If compliments can build you up, they can also tear you down. So we can’t find real security unless it overflows from the inside out.
So pause with me:
Is there someone you've let define your confidence?
What might it feel like to be free from needing others to notice you in order to feel seen?
What would it look like for you to let God speak into how you see yourself?
(p.s. He cares about what you feel when you look in the mirror.)
Photo credits: Elijah Grimm.