From Wanting to Belong to Becoming Myself

 

Can I be honest with you for a second?

There was a time when all I wanted was to belong. To blend in. To be like everyone else. I didn't want to stand out—I just wanted to fit.

I thought if I could just be more like them, whoever "them" was, I'd finally feel safe. Accepted. Enough.

So I made myself smaller. Quieter. I watched what others did and tried to copy them. I thought sameness meant safety, and being different meant rejection.

Have you felt that too?

But something began to shift as I got older. I started noticing women differently—really seeing them. The way one friend painted with colors that made no sense but somehow worked perfectly. The way another spoke up in meetings when everyone else stayed quiet. The mom who juggled a million things and still showed up with a smile. The woman at church who prayed with a confidence I wanted.

I found myself admiring women who were just... themselves. Unapologetically. They weren't trying to fit anyone's mold, and honestly? It was beautiful.

But here's where I have to get real with you.

I've felt jealous. I've felt intimidated. I've scrolled through Instagram and felt that ugly twist in my stomach when someone posted something amazing. I've walked into rooms and immediately started comparing myself to every woman there—her hair, her confidence, her success, her everything.

Have you been there too? It's not pretty, but it's real.

And sister, if you're feeling that right now—if insecurity is whispering lies in your ear—I need you to hear this: don't feel bad about it. Just recognize it. Be aware of it.

Because here's what I've learned: those insecurities will keep controlling you until you realize they're nesting in your thoughts. They set up camp there. They whisper the same lies over and over until you start believing them.

"She's better than you." "You're not enough." "You'll never measure up."

I used to let those thoughts run wild. But then I found my identity in God, and everything changed.

I'm not a slave to insecurity anymore. I'm not controlled by envy or jealousy. Those things don't get to feed my identity—God does.

Now I can look at what I'm good at and celebrate it. I can admit what I'm not good at without feeling like a failure. I'm comfortable with my own abilities and capacity. Not because I'm amazing at everything, but because I know who I am in Him.

And let me tell you—it's freeing. It's peaceful. It's like finally exhaling after holding your breath for years.

God keeps me in check now. When I start slipping into comparison, He nudges me. When envy creeps in, He helps me shift my perspective. Instead of thinking "she's better than me," I've learned to pray for her. To thank God that He's using her. To celebrate that there's room for all of us.

You know what else I've learned?

There's a difference between girls and women.

Girls play games. Girls feed into insecurities—theirs and everyone else's. Girls compete, tear down, and gossip. Girls are shaky because their identity is built on sand.

But a woman? A woman lifts other women up. A woman brings hope. A woman pours into others because she's secure in who she is.

Woman to woman. Not girl to girl.

And I want to be a woman who supports other women. I want you to be that woman too.

So here's what I'm asking you to do—not because I'm perfect at it, but because I've seen how powerful it is:

Support the women around you.

When you see a woman doing something incredible, tell her. Don't just think it—say it out loud. Send the text. Leave a comment. Let her know you see her.

When a woman is struggling, show up. Bring the coffee. Send the message. Let her know she's not alone.

When a woman succeeds, celebrate her like it's your own win. Cheer for her. Share her work. Hype her up.

When a woman is different from you, learn from her. Let her stretch you. Let her inspire you, not intimidate you.

Stop the comparison. Stop the gossip. Stop tearing down what you don't understand.

Instead? Build up. Encourage. Believe the best.

Through volunteering and working with various organizations, I've seen what happens when women truly support one another. I've watched strangers become sisters. I've seen walls come down and masks come off. I've witnessed a kind of community where women feel safe being themselves—messy, imperfect, and still loved.

And it's changed me.

Because belonging doesn't come from being the same. It comes from being loved. And love shows up when we embrace who we are and cheer for others as they do the same.

That woman you're comparing yourself to? She's not your competition. She's your sister. And there's room for both of you to shine.

I'm still learning. I still catch myself slipping into old patterns sometimes. But I'm not who I used to be. And neither are you.

The goal was never to belong by disappearing. It was to belong by becoming fully, unapologetically yourself. The woman God created you to be.

So let's do this together. Let's be women who lift each other up. Women who bring hope. Women who pour into others.

Let's build the kind of world where every woman feels seen, valued, and loved.

Because we need each other. And when we rise together? Everything changes.