One of my favorite memories of childhood is my first day of preschool. I remember leaning against the legs of my new teacher and her asking me, “Do you know anyone else here?” I clearly and confidently said, “Yes, my cousin Morgan!” 

Then I probably went off to play. 

I don’t remember having butterflies in my stomach. I don’t remember feeling flushed faced. I was ready to eat play-doh and watch Gumby, paint terribly on an easel, and learn the name of President Clinton’s Cat (Socks). I remember uninhibited joy, running on the jungle gym, looking into the bright sky as the airplane jets wrote letters and words with the clouds (which in hindsight was probably pollution). 

Pre-school was fun and freeing. I don’t have one bad memory of it.

School-House Traumas

My bad memories started in first grade. You see, I was “gifted”–smart for my age. In fact, I was so smart that they sent myself and two other classmates into pre-first grade. They made a new grade for us. I remember having conversations with my friends about it and all. I must’ve been proud. 

But the thing was when first grade–real first grade–came around, all my regular kindergarten friends caught up with me. And that’s where the trouble started. Because from first grade on up, I felt like there was something wrong with me. Something shifted and I had this unsettling feeling. The way I saw myself and how others saw me didn’t correlate. Others’ perspectives of me began to become more important and more accurate than my perspective of myself. Can you relate?

I think it started when one of my best friend’s said in a vindictive tone, “she’s so popular, she gets to have recess.” 

Or when I started puberty early and in third grade, my crush noticed and said it aloud for others to hear.  “Kourtney’s only eight and she has boobs!”

Or when one of my best friend’s told me I was lucky a guy even liked me because of how ugly my teeth were. 

Or being told I was ugly consistently by boys in my class. 

Well, you know what they say, “kids are cruel.” They also say, “Sticks and stones…” but you know what? These words and many others that I heard in subsequent years stuck to me and gnawed away at my understanding of who I was. It didn’t occur to me that perhaps the people who were saying hurtful things to me were hurt themselves. 

When you’re sensitive (like me), your enemy isn’t the person on the outside; your enemy is the person within. My enemy became me. It never occurred to me that the issue could have been some other external factor. I thought there was something just wrong with me and that whatever it was, made me less than others. And I’ve felt that way for a very long time. 

And I’m just now starting to grow out of it. But let’s look at that question again:

What’s wrong with me?

The answer to this question isn’t as important as the reason behind it. 

I usually ask this question when I am rejected by someone or feel like someone doesn’t like me. So if I’m asking this question to prove myself to someone or to prove my worth, my reasoning is off. My motives are wrong.

I’m learning that I don’t have to prove my worth. I don’t have to provide evidence to others as to why I am a valuable human being or why I deserve respect. I don’t have to beg for love or acceptance. 

So if I’m asking that question to prove or find my worth, due to someone’s inability to see it, I’m starting to do myself a favor by stopping. I’m digging a little deeper and seeing the questions behind my question. 

The real questions, the questions of my soul are: What is my worth? Am I valuable?  Once I ask the real questions, my heart is able to receive the truth. 

Am I valuable?

I am valuable, and my friend, so are you. 

You have immeasurable intrinsic worth because God took his time and made the decision to create you and me. 

And once we realize that, we’ll be able to hear the answer to the initial question.

But for real, is there something wrong with me?

The answer is yes. There is something wrong with me. 

There’s something wrong with EVERYONE. But even though there is something wrong with you, and something wrong with me, it doesn’t mean we’re worthless or that we are not valuable. 

But instead of me focusing on all the things that are wrong with me, I’m starting to focus on who God says I am and how he feels about me. As I lean into this truth, I’m able to work on my legitimate problem areas. I’m also able to let go of the pain of those words, those lies, from people long ago. 

God says that I am created in His image. 

God says I am fearfully and wonderfully made. 

God is mindful of me. 

God has a unique plan for my life (and for yours).  

So since this is true, my dear reader, let’s treat ourselves and others according to our worth. 

My Prayer for you

Dear God, I pray that you will heal the parts of us that tell us we’re not worthy. Show us how valuable we are to you. Help us to sink our teeth and our roots deeply into this truth, this truth that comes from you. And as we learn what you’ve done for us, how you feel about us, how you love us, help us to do our part. Help us to surrender our lives to you and obey. 

In Jesus’ Name, 

Amen. 

Love and Light, 

Kourtney Naomi